Fearless Leo Pourparlers

In The Hills So Far   In the hills so far, On a road of tar, I'm driving my car. On the road of coal and char. In the hills so far, The sun sets and welcomes the stars, The moo shines bright on the roof of highway cars. My car and many others stopped at restaurants and bars. I enjoyed a cup of tea in the bar. Under the moon and the pole star. Thinking about my life so far. Thinking about the scenario of the last spent hour. In the hills so far, On a road of tar. The stars vanished and the sun raised, The roads got trafficked with cars oversized. But, no one was in a hurry or surprised. Because, time has no value when it was priced, In the hills so far, On a road of tar. -ADS©

Winter Returns The winter has returned, Cold winds is what it has earned. The ways of western disturbing is what it has learnt with white snow and mist it stunned. It also got some breezes and fog's fund. The frost it brings with ice.  This temperature freezes all farms of rice. Our heads become the villas for lice. And our homes also shelters mice. This is what is winter's cost price. The morning and evening are covered of fog, Everyone hibernates ,a bear or a frog. Noone can be found on the streets except a stray dog. Let's see till when this winter can last? How much new agents it can cast? There's nothing left it has not  worked. In the wait of this winter, simply a year passed. -ADS ©

The Mail   In the round hills of Aravalli, On the steep bridges on Godavari. The mail train honks silently, In the silent valley it goes on lonely. On the steep slopes of Western Ghats, Across the city roads vacant of cars and carts. On the banks of goddess Narmada, At the wedding of River Ganga and Alaknanda. Swimming through bridges over the sea, Traveling over the plateaus and lea. The mail train honks swift, As the birds of Kutch drift. The mail either loaded with posts, Or passengers having tea and toasts. Haulting at stations once or twice, Creeping through the V-valleys and farms of rice.I -ADS©

Heavens of Lords  In the ocean of tears, Looking for a boat. In the crowd of fake peers, Finding for a peer like a goat. In the light of night, Searching for a warm coat, In the fight of coat. In the flight of kite,In Looking for a judicious court. In the sky of aves, Searching for a flight. In the soil of slaves, Finding for a source of light. In the papers of ink, Looking for folders. In the drains of stink, Searching for weathered rock boulders. In the hills of peat, Looking for a creative alive. In the wood of seat, Searching for a thread uncut with knives.I -ADS©

The Night Sky In the night sky,  I do lie, On the bed and cry, for the whispers of feel of the shy. In the night sky, I do lie, On the bed and cry, Lost in the quest of crust, Lost in the victory of thurst, Lost in the dreams of flying over the thrust. In the night sky, I do lie, On the bed and cry, Looking for a next brighter day, As I think this, I do lay, On the bed of dust and clay. -ADS©  

The Soul  The residue of the coal, The breather of the spirit. The entity of the soul, the feel of exquisite. This flame of exhaustion, can eat the well being of a family. This flame of a graveyard, Is engineer of a new world. The new world is nothing but, the enigma of heaven, The feeling of happiness, Burgeon! -ADS©

Parallel Universe Volume 1  The drought in the ocean, the flood in the sky. The bird in the ocean, the fish in the sky. The air in the ocean, the water in the sky. The lion of the ocean, Is the whale of the sky. The height of the ocean, the depth of the sky. The waves of the ocean, Is the breeze of the sky. The rocks of the ocean, is the scrapers of the sky. The color of the ocean, is the color of the sky. The land of the ocean, Is the land of the sky. -ADS©

The Conscientious Stupidity The spirit of sacred belief, The possessive sacred relief. The stimulus of interrogative harmony, The assertion of uninterrupted destiny. The pleasure of conscientious peace, The strain of tense increase. The typhoon of dreadful cruelty, The pain of conscientious stupidity, The pain of conscientious stupidity.  -ADS©

Until This pen stops at every end of the line,  Until it gets started again, maniacal and fine. The ball rolls the ink to the paper, And the paper soaks it just like a parent's pamper. This full stops, I make never mind, Get vanished over the time and unwind. This poem never ends of life, Until you don't tear it with deaths knife. -ADS©