Holes in my windows.

There are holes in the window,
Its winter again,
The winds blow and bring in the blast of heatless breath.
Howcome,the blankets have lost their warmth?
Why have the fire lost its heat?
Where have those days gone?
When I would have all of it?
The warmth ,the heat and the dust
Of the sunny morns and windows without holes
Of creatures without heart and dreams unsold...
But now,I live here,
With the wet woods which refuse to burn...
And the windows which crack from time to time.

The Face

It is just a face,one face,your face that i recalled,
While the sands of time dripped by,
But was it a face or a mask?
An image of my dreams and infinite expectations.
Somewhere lost and tarnished
And then the gore oozing from the mask,
The face uncovered ,the mask unravelled,
Blood!Is that all?Is that all that is lost?
Or maybe something more?
I see you today but ah!a new mask,
Seems new ,I like the colours,the vibrance
Which blinds the eye,the hardness which hurts the face,
But,wt about the old one which I had made?
You do not know it,do you?
But then again does it matter ?
The cost of my innocence and your deception...
I might not be able to account for it...
But look at the mask I wear,
The grin on it and the holes over my eyes...
Maybe or may not be you see the tears beneath it...
The hard,colourfully pale mask
-Of Time and Perception.