Mysterious

(They said : )

Darkness was her cover,
And silence, just a close friend,
The winds ever drove her,
By the night’s gloomy bend;
Some say they spotted her,
But they are not really sure,
What spirit rode with her,
Is still to them all obscure.

Nay, she wore no white gown,
But the colours of the storm,
And she wore one wide frown,
Scarier than is the norm;
She whizzed away through town,
Her gaze met nobody’s eyes,
Those that tried she ran down,
With a stare colder than ice.

Mysterious, how she looked,
At the night with face so red!
What deep in her mind cooked,
What paths she proposed to tread?
Suspicious, when she looked,
At people talk so unsure,
She trusted none, nor brooked,
None’s ill-advised overture.

 (I say : )

Darkness is your cover,
With your silence standing out,
The winds drive you ever,
They only speak roundabout,
They swirl, they twirl, like tides,
But reveal not who you are,
What spirit in you rides,
Remains a mystery so far.

Now, you should see my heart,
Racing, as the aura spreads,
My eyes are aching hard,
Tracing the ends of the threads;
You whizzed away past me,
Really not meeting my gaze,
Though I try I don’t see,
How you manoeuvre this maze.

Mysterious, why you look,
With fire burning in your eyes,
Mysterious, how you look,
Beneath graveness’ disguise;
Mysterious, what you think,
Inside caverns of your mind,
To each mysterious thing,
The answers I want to find.

©Asiman Panda 2008