Some Sense This Time

This one's by Partho.....


Now come to me.
You want reasons
Not of any particular love;
Just habit enforces your queries.

No, you are not flint-hearted,
Just practical. It's an old lie,
All this tomfoolery.
Grapple with my justice.
I move beyond the shimmerings of a wintry dawn,
I fly on thin ice.

So stand beside me
By this here snow-filled mountain
Below lie the sleeping multitudes.
My voice will not reach them
But a single cry
Will bring the avalanche down.


And you had the audacity to tell me the previous one was an offshoot of this. Get a life, there is a difference between a Picasso and a Richard.