My survival

When the gilded sun would outlive
The power of my words
I would be no more to feel
Due to the oblivious enmity.

Half sunk air in visage of atmosphere
Would be remain here
Lonely but many trees would peep into
My survival which is no more.

Tossing emotions

Her innocent emotions
Were tingling,
I was wondering through sky,
sinking in the
Pool of imagination
and feeling so high.
She crossed her fingers,
looked me with shy.
My heart was tossing,
Without wings, started fly.