Road-Dwelling Eye-Catchers

They who stay on road
Glided by the wistfully frosty nights
Guarding their integrities
And feeding on the thoughts to live past the mere freedom to merely live
Have longed enough for their sufferings to end
And for their voices to be heard
And for their injustices to be looked upon
These wretcheds who seek the fair negotiations of life and death
These hesitants who have wailed high enough at the highest notes of their bowels
These eye-catchers who are not getting a chance to look beyond their own miseries
Because all that is left around them is the smoke of your hatred
They are drenched in your ashfull vengeances
And are looking for a mere place to live
Inside the roads where they are dwelling
Which for you are blocked
With an uneasy sight
Contradicting your assumption of how easy a reality could be like
These survivers are simply looking for the empaths in your have-all hearts
Who'd still know the sacrifice of the tears
Over wide range of joys available
And accessible to mere few, but some.

ON WOMEN’S ‘DAY’!

A woman, in the world,

Is associated with words like love, care, tenderness

Devotion, strength, sacrifice,

And other words that are born out of utmost reverences.

Seminars, politics, literature, media

Help her in growth

For she is otherwise

The toy of patriarchy.

People ask people to understand the abilities of a woman

Creating a deity out of her

Generating a perfect image

And thus implanting the same in the minds of the world.

And so when people meet a woman in contrast to that ideal image

They disrespect and stoop her in their minds

Calling her a slut in their conscience

Fearing and cursing her actions.

People make posters, write stories and poems,

Make films and carry out debates

To tell the people the true value of a woman

And the volunteers delight in their actions

For women are weak, always weak

And the more the show-off of a strong woman

The stronger is the testimony of her weakness.

When they tell you that she is an equivalent of a goddess,

They talk of strength, of her patience,

Of her sacrifices and compromises of her dreams,

Of her earnings to raise a family,

Of her ability to equally handle the household chores,

Of her children and for them her unconditional love,

And men, meanwhile, go out and drink

Become irresponsible for there is a “goddess” in their homes

Who would take care of everything.

There is no men’s day celebration

There is no recalling that even men deserve the respect

Does that mean men are always respected?

But they then talk of a woman’s honor.

Where is men’s honor?

Do they not need it?

Why all this campaigning?

And then they talk of gender equality

Men and women speak, shout for female’s honor.

Women need people to defend themselves

And what about men?

Men are a ‘by default’ thing in a society

And women…

Always a game.

A traditional game.

And patriarchy will find ways to suppress her

Generations over generations.

Adding on, I’ll say

Don’t defend me

I don’t want your sympathies

Am strong enough

And I am ugly

And irresponsible

And unloving

Above all I am a woman—

Just the other form of human species.

This poem was first published in 2014 in the book 'A Phase Unknown, Woman - A Tribute'.

Love Dilemmas

Well, how often have you materialized your desires
Or shed off your disdains to move on?
Slowly drifting from one lover to the next
Or despising the metamorphosis of your love interests?

How often have you wished someone to love you terribly
The way you see the beautifics in your self,
Passion-obsessions finding their source
In the roots of losing everything eventually as fact?

Have you ever found yourself saddened in love
Or satisfied with gratitude of however it exists and comes?
How well can you let go of everything gone
Piercing its realities into your subconscious?

Would you mind putting a stop to lethal wantings
Stop calling anything love?
Then what else is love if it isn't
Anything you have so far seen and loved? - Or unloved?

The New Love

How well we have heightened the very atrocities of life
In the name of love
Bargaining on time
And energy and
Emotional exertion.
Turning love into sickness
Drawing a blindfold on the eye of our mind
Adding everything on to our insecurities
Analyzing every moment like an algebraic equation
With a variable constant
Changing every instant
As per the convenience of our mind to terriblize things
And scrutinizing our solitude.
With an expression of loneliness
Becoming loveholic
Seeking every form of it around,
Looking for validation
Of our respect, image, dignity,
And existence.
Victimizing the other person
For their little choices and decision;
Making a pun of everything-
Every single word coming out of their irregular minds-
That we had earlier deemed perfect.

Devout Materials

Faith underlines our distorted selves
Dividing us into million small portions
Worshiping that one whole WE
That we call God
And ritualize our days and
Dreams of getting the ultimate nirvana
Or momentary salvation
Or the thought of enlightenment
Flowing from moment to moment
Digressing and transcending
In the search of timeless truth
Or evergreen notions
And protecting them
Treasuring them
Passing them all
As rules and facade
Passing on our doctrines
Passing on our systems
Passing on our religions
From generation to generation
Hoping that our God sustains
Through the hell we have created around
For all of us to die sooner
Rejoicing just in the idea
That my god is at least immortal.
Such damnation!

The Illusions

Within the distorted image of the self
We seek sustainability of our dreams
Potential grows into self-loathing images
Of our inhumane personalities

We ponder over our achievements
The thoughts seek their own trains
Respectively treading on the paths
We wish to never have attained

The life keeps flowing while we follow our deaths
To the dead ends we enter our voids
Suspending our beliefs of the eternal truth
We caress our ears with all the false noise

And together we lead a path of demise
With hatred and doubts in our heads
And yet somewhere we feel we are achieving
The paths we were supposed to led.

Fading to Black

What do you do
When it is all fading to black
And you want to stop that from happening?
You wish to put light upon the shadows that are casting spell
Onto what your heart had desired most
Once
And lived for a while, the fruits of its patience;
The feeling of wish-fulfillment had once generated
And had transgressed to the best of moments
That are still visited down the narrow lanes of memories
Around which the other memories lay inexcusably forgotten.
And yet what you seek, you have questioned it too,
Parting with it with a no face to return.

What is Freedom?

When you give up on the hegemony of your destiny
Put a stop to your disdains
When you refuse to bend your head
For a wrong cause
For the wrong power
Even though your back shall be broken
And your head smashed
And even while you have been shot on your knees
You refuse to look down
You refuse to fear
To oblige
To let go of the life in you
This easily
When you can't shame your death
And would rather die now instead of then
But refuse to let go
Of the strength which is in your heart
Where all your loved ones reside
In the mirror of your eyes
And you reflect the power
Greater than any oppressive or repressive forces
The power of love
For your soul, and for the sake of all other souls
That have ever suffered.
Freedom is putting a stop
To all the subjugation, enslavement, and tyranny
Of your Mind and of your Heart
Where the Soul finally comes out to fight
This battle that you call Freedom Struggle.

At the Break of Dawn

I have never felt lightly for you
It is a strong, heart-wrenching feeling
Clogging blood to my veins
Clenching my heart at every heartbeat
Smothering the emergence of new thoughts
Stuck in a moment, moment after moment
Causing an unattempted dizziness of
A fear, a hesitation, a clinch
Any slightest of approach startles me
Beyond measure and pleasure.
There is a winter dawning in me
With a hibernating condition
In this dormancy of our love.

Dissolute

Is there any other language
In which I can talk to you
Easily, without racing my heart
Without reaching the zenith of anticipation?
A language in which I may finally make you know
What blows my mind off
What entices me towards you?
Is there someway, anyway that it can be made easy, my love?
I can't talk and be in love at the same time.
I can't be me and be in love at the same time—
I am losing myself to you.

Beyond Superficiality

Here
Take this mirror
Look deeply into your eyes
And tell me what do you see there
Do you recognize this lovely soul you are?
Do you see your heartbreaks
And all the things that have ever made you lose faith?
Do you see this wonderful strength you own
Right there in the sparkle of your pupil?
Can you acknowledge your vulnerability
And cry out for all the help you need?
Can you cry out instead of crying in
And then laugh out real loud
With all the breathe in your lungs?
Can you open your heart out
To yourself, to all the mistakes you have ever made,
To all the guilt you now possess,
And all the fears that enslave you in their bounds?
And then, can you open your heart to me?
Tell me who you are?
Tell me what makes you sick
And what causes that anticipatory excitement in you?
Can you take me in you
Let me stay there for a while
Where we shall laugh and cry and exchange our experiences?
Together?
Not just you
Not just me
But as we, like a very raw human bonding
Which our ancestors have experienced
In the cold nights around fire
With songs that sings the melody of their true being
As and for each other?

Eternal Kiss

All my feminine energies
Are getting along together
To get inclined towards
The masculinity in me
Like the perfect union of
The energies of
Yin and Yang
Into an
Eternal kiss.

For this once again
I am looking into me
Finding perfection in the
Imperfections of my own
Reflection
Conversing with the mirage
I find now inside
That was sought before
Somewhere
Out there in this illusionary world;

Seeking pleasure
Of this amalgamation
In an eternal bliss.

Written on

One of those nights
When the moonlight walks into your room
To stay throughout till the
Break of dawn
Telling you stories
Of its indispensable walk around the earth
Sharing the songs it has sung along
And asking you questions
That have remained unheard
And unspoken
In the snickets of your veins
And you bleed your heart out
In a glass of wine
Offering it to that moonlight
Which is there to cherish it
Alone.

Walk Gently Through the Night

Walk gently through the night, my love
For the shadows are dark, and desires darker
Probable sins of future rise
Stealthily from the hidden corners
And hisses all through the house
While a dog howls longingly into the night
And the stars outshine every attempt of clouds
Made to conceal them.

Talk gently into the night, my love
For the ears are more used to
The noise of silences and sighs
Better whisper, if you shall speak
And sleep, before you shall wake.

Delusional

When on nights like these
My imagination takes me to some far off place
And another time
Beneath the moonlit gaze of sky
In the face of soothing breeze
And tender drops of rain tingling the
Peaceful follicles of my skin—
I stand in this gentle embrace
All clamped into myself
By a chimerical sense of love
Somewhere within me—
Dismantling all ties with reality
For as long as can be.

Again

Love swayed like a wind
Carrying the fragrance of a dead past
Where all the lessons of trust and mistrust were learned
Unswervingly
And were henceforth resolute
In a state of dormancy—
Are now being lifted off from their
Curse,
To be in faith
Once again.

Why Love?

What is love if it can't strike your heart like a lightening bolt
While you stand drenched under its raining passion?
What use is then of fondness and loving
If there is no depth, there is no falling?
What use is of the warmth in embraces
When there is no melting of heart, no melting in arms?
And what use is of looking in the direction of your beloved
Without any longing, without saying anything?

Seasonal Happenings

Last night I spiraled my way to a long lost summer afternoon
And saw myself walking amid bright reflections
There were silhouettes of every thing and every being
And bright sunshine embarked a new spark in our eyes as I walked towards him.

A silent reel rolled heavily on my mind
All dooms were forgotten, as all the beauty revived
In the silent corners of that heart
Which has now learned the art of desiring.

And as with those thoughts I went back to sleep
The flower of fancies unblossomed
The seeds returned to their dormancy
And a lot got embedded back in the depths, unkeen.

But look what I found on waking up—
Invariably a beautiful winter morning.

Internal Happenings

There are fragmented moments in the distances between us
Where I keep on traveling to and fro, from myself to you,
And then back to myself —
With an unquenchable longing
To be with you again.

There are molecular spaces where I feel your absence
When you are just a step apart
Looking away in your own eternity.

There are warm silences when your breath departs
In all the other directions
Where I long to be.

There are unhappened conversations between us happening
While sipping coffee in my solitude,
Compounded in me.

Me-ing

Do you feel the need to drag yourself ahead
To not stop at any cost
To keep on moving and leave all behind
All that is meant to be left
All that is not yours.
To let the wretchedness be
To let the loneliness disseminate in you
To let your wounds scream
To let yourself heal once again
To let your spirit explode
To trust yourself once more.
Do you feel this isolation inside your head?
Do you hear the time ticking in your heartbeats?
Do you hear the music your soul is singing?
Can you feel these depths you are in?
Can you see the futility floating at the surfaces?
Do you feel numb towards all the alienated things?
Do you talk to yourself, embrace yourself,
Look in your own eyes?
And smile, like really smile?
Maybe we are on the same page then.

Raveling

She sat
Wide awake
Distorted from reality
Her mind traveled a hundred possibilities across
And her heart danced in some other dimension
And yet there stood
A giant wall in front of her mere reality
Beyond which she sought her space.

A Touch

Behold the glance
That is penetrating deep into my eyes
Searching for words
Playing with my emotions
Reaching my heart which is dreaming
Of a hundred projections
Of multiverse
Where we shall meet
And play
And dance
And walk the valleys
Or climb through the varied steps and layers of togetherness.
Behold that glance
That makes me dream
Of different versions of me
In different times and spaces
With all your different forms and beings.
Where I shall see you as you
And you, me as me.

The Need

When I woke up from my sleep
There was blood all over my face (from what I recalled from my dream)
And I was chasing somebody
And then I daubed their face with something
And there was somebody else too, mirroring my actions
And that somebody else had blood on their face too
We were sweating blood
But before the blood would ooze out through tiny pores of our skin
We would reach the threshold of something
And that just-before-the-breaking-point
Was a beauty
Of our selves
When we radiated our intensities
And our face glowed with all the blood running through our veins
And I wondered, on waking up, what it could suggest
I might be pursuing some troubled extent
And I lived the whole day safe and securely
When by the end of the day I pursued night and its sombre glories
I was touched by the threshold of something in me
And wished to unleash myself
From all the cages I might have imprisoned all the anythings in me,
From all of my past that I have ever lived,
And knew, if it was possible,
I would have grown wings
Then and there.
For the need.

Thought and Thoughts

Where do all these thoughts come from?
Torment-styled and concealed
More than half remains unspoken
The other half of spoken aren't well conceived.
A part of them partly bears any truth
A part is always slurred
The next part stumped in ashes
And a whole of next converted to thoughtless words.
The mere minutest percent that remains
Are ones that make the best discourse
Once in a month, a year, in ages
Unrecorded and subverse.

Where Were You Last Night?

Where were you last night
When the stars called out your name?
The vast sky sought your solitude
And the warmth of the night was dismayed.
But you were asleep in your cold sheets
Waiting for a new dawn, a routine
While the wilderness of your soul
Remained agitated, and you ignored.
You were a self you now remember
Over-engaged in your new identity, you drown
In every cup and glass you pour yourself into
And try to take its form.
You say you rediscover yourself everyday
When you, the moon for the world, is indeed down.

To be of that savage sheath of desires
That won't cut off from their wonts
Of turmoiling the peace of a mindful heart
Dismaying the sleep from the night
And activities from the day
Is in my ritual of today.

Clouding

Behind the uncontrollable urge to reside my essence in the form of its true meaning
I walk up and down the street
Ruminating on time buried under the dark warm earth
I put my ears to ground and try to hear
The soft murmuring of the movement of still life
Unaware to our naked eyes
I follow my gaze from the base of a trunk to the highest branch of the tree
Wondering why sunlight loves to sieve through it
The water that grumbles on a disturbed layers of sea
What do they tell or do they even crave to?
Proving their presence. Or is it their essence?
That they have found out after immortal years of their existence
And if they have, how do these things of nature actually feel now
Specifically after becoming tools of mere selfishness in the very intentions of ignorant humanity.
With this unanswered inquisition I return back to my own cloud.

Falling in Love?

If there is one thing I can hold true in my heart
It's the falsity of love
The growing tension between the nerve endings
The wrong impression of reflexes
The process of manipulating reality and all our past impressions already starts
We are making room for something new... from the same old
Over-beautifying every sound,
The involuntary actions become utterly encoded.
This concurrence is a mere chance,
A permutation of time and space
But this is where our fall starts
And we plunge head over heels
For few days,
Weeks, or months,
Untimely coinciding with the projection of each other's feelings
Failing the auto sync, eventually.

Shadows of Absence

I see the shadows around me
Of all the things I lack
Darker than the darkness
Which could no longer be taken as grant
The shadows that are gravely silent
Than any haunting death
Glaring at me defiantly
They mock my very sense
Of being and believing
In what holds me from the truth
And I, with my failed efforts
Walk towards these black holes.

Contemplating the Delusions

How can I change and unfurl
When, wherever I go and whomever I meet, 
Is a projection, a continuity
Of all I have left behind, or had been.

How shall I renew when everything of mine
Resurfaces from time to time
And the shadow of my former self triggers the reactions
Drawing out a confused image of my mind. 

How shall I shed my skin off
Relieving my self from the dead longstanding burden
Which shall stay and define my sub-conscious
In all my future lives. 

When by the end of the day I sit and summon all my differently forgotten selves
For a feast of delight in the dreams that we had sought, in respective phases of time,
And share the differences, wondering how much I have changed—
Have I really...?

Fearing

We always feel ourselves changing
In the dark narrow lanes of intolerable voids
Which erupts and breaks the silence between our ears
Rocketing our hormones
Exploding our loneliness in the charcoal waters of our only vent
That may seem out through eyes, mouth, or limbs;
An utter intolerance,
Where we get stoned and see the moments slipping past—
And our old self, and our old selves disappearing like smothering clouds of smoke—
And our dreams that we shed off to rot in ashes.
We are afraid to float through this change
Wishing to summon all our loved ones
And say them a last goodbye through our another losing self,
Every other moment.

At times sadness is just too crippled and delightful
Like a ray of warmth traversing down your intestines
You bestow yourself with your own empathy, love, and understanding
Letting yourself feel like You again.

Mildness of Truth

Perceptions are like small dot-size holes
On a sky-length wall —
The point of our meditation
The convergence of our concentration
The foci of our actions
The road of our present
And the route to our future
A formlessness, a presence,
Yet we bind it with our reality
Consider it the only truth
Indulge in immature judgments
Heighten our egos just on one basis
And in that small subjectivity
We try to stuff our essence
To jar the wall
And let neither the time flow
Nor we floweth out of it.

Another Minute of Illusion

Emotions are perspiring my thoughts
Invading my exhausted cravings
What was once gone and I soothed my heart into acceptance
Is inflicting irresistible daydreams and desires
What is blind — my in or out?
Or everything I ever wondered and wished to believe?
Better is still the thought of patience —
To postpone the realization, to delay the truth,
And to live an untrue present for one more minute. 

Perceptions and the Terms

Excites the periphery of epidermis a soft touch
Sending messages of love through the gossip veins
The heart is excited, the blood consumed in dancing
A love is reborn, the mind is humbled.

The dresser ceases his day's work
The time for the rest has returned
The clocks ticking with consistency
In relativity to the false-fated reveries.

A ghost finds the tone of freakish screams
In the ears of those who care to listen
To the ones who feel what vibrations surrounds them
And what thoughts make home in their solitary world.

The wheels keep spinning, the time keeps grinning
At the hilarious paradoxes of satirical terms
Of condition, and the perceptions
Of the living and the non-living world. 

Passion Subdued

The veins growling with desire
Temptations burning the eyes red hot
Teasing the breaths
And whispering out to call

To the soul, prospering elsewhere
Unaware, drenched in his stigma and sensations
Hears he the urge and the impatient sighs in the undertone
Lies he down with a pillow underneath his head and moan.

Down the Tunnel Road and Up Again

Shall I write for one last time
The passion that still lasts long
Bestowed with sleeplessness in my lonely nights
I once started a walk down the tunnel road.

The echoes here are more profound
And I am much aware of my own heartbeats
The whispering songs of hidden creatures
And the voices from my memories.

The old times come and go, come and go
Past the only sight I have ever held to
I close my eyes to have a blink more of a relief
A blink more to defend the reality from the truth.

The vivid unexplainable emotions
That jumps up to the height
Shall crave for love and a connect
With my humanly life.

to be able to come out

I remember you in the daylight
When the sun's grace embrace the ground
Underscoring the shadow of the tree
Falling, like I fell for you
Quite naturally
Still feeling your presence on my left
As a bond that we once shared
Feeling you the way I once used to feel
When you belonged to me
As if you still do
But you are dedicating all your beautiful visions to some other lady
You, my lover - it somewhere feels a little weird
But I, letting you fly,
To some sky distant from mine
Why you still belong to me in my heart and I to you?
Like one single being, impeccably inseparable.
Damn this illusion that questions my reality every single minute.

Distance and Distant

Two individuals connect and share a bond that might seem most beautiful to them in that particular moment.

The two excite each other and bring about different kinds of changes and challenges in each other's personality.

Their thoughts and emotions run at similar frequencies, at times matching each other's to create the perfect moments. The moments that could never ever be relived.

And then they separate...something they had not been able to imagine before.

At times, one of them feels hurt. The other might too, for certain things at certain times.

But what their relationship had been like changes completely. The two look at their old times differently.

And now, if both of them sit together and honestly share how everything had been to them, they'll see how distant they would sound to each other.

Maybe one of them had taken things way too seriously.

Maybe the other one look at it as one good friendship.

Maybe one is upset because of broken promises and unintended words.

And the other...is dissatisfied with one's own expectations.

How strange it is that we share the same relationship, but with a different perspective.

Forever...(this time)

Something's gone
You can feel that in the air it has vanished
You might have called it proudly yours once
But nothing really belongs to you until you don't keep it to yourself
Not your thoughts, not your emotions,
Not your deepest and hideous secrets you have whispered out.
It was there in you, but you shall remain in that forever
Forever in the part which has been lost
To your dismay
You may cry and begin again
You may miss it, and you shall rise to it again
Try rising higher than the air which is carrying it off from you
Rising higher till you shall feel it again
Rising higher, and still
Rising higher than your old form
Which is ought to be forgotten
Given off...for it has been your choice in the first place
To keep it off from you, to vent it out,
To give it a form, the words, the love
You shall learn to love again
You shall be determined to be you again.
And you shall be, someday.

But The Fright

In all her not-so-true accusations
She wished that at least once he would say the words right
She wished to see him happy
And to know that he has taken the route which is right
Of all the things their separation could bring
She hoped it should only be a wonderful light
If it is something which was to happen
It shouldn't be a disappointment, a resent, a fright.
Let's part with smile and highest respect, she thought,
Let's love each other in the starry night
Let's creep comfortably in an unnerving nostalgia
Whenever we'd wish, with delight.

Disownment

The happenings of past few months
That you made a mistake to defend from the truth they held
And the concrete structure of your belief which was born out of your blessings once,
Have now disowned you.
You doubt yourself, your existence is troubled,
Eyes red, at the depth of darkened eye sockets,
Filled with reddish marks caused due to the friction of tears on your cheeks,
Vanished genuinity of smile,
Apt suppression of words and expressions
Yet still, the one thing you most despise is to collect pity.
You better run through this, bare-feeted,
Wondering if your future can bear a token of that segment of past that was wonderful
Reminding that you don't 'belong' anymore
And filling your heart with enigma of distrust;
Weird random memories return with unbearable nostalgia
So that you would want to be numbed down to your last cell.
With ugly face and unattractive manners
You avoid your gaze from falling onto the mirror
Until one day you recognize that it's not you anymore
Where have I gone? You wonder. And since when?
Can you return back?
Can you assume the worst of reality in order to gain no second choice for your next step?
Or you still prefer to defend the smashed concrete structures of unrecognizable believes?
And still you think you have a choice!
To suffer or to suffer more
(With no scale to measure).

Tell Me, O Reader!

Tell me O reader!

Do the old tales not haunt you?

Flooding you with tears, the screams that no one hears

Making you cling to where you not belong but your memories do

Or the memories of the old people who told you their tales, can you not feel them?

Does that not haunt you, clinging to this old, shattered place that no longer exist as it was

But you are afraid that if you move, you will forget whatever you have of it

Because you don’t know all those single moments of their lives, but what they had told you (and you remember) and what they had been like, after living them

Do the walls not speak to you?

Or the doors remind you when and how who and why opened them?

Or the windows that remind you of old storms that once flushed your happy lives with excitement, movement and hot teas.

The laughter, the forgiveness, the little old hurting moments

Do you not want them back?

Do you not want to warn those people back in your memories about your present and their future?

Do you not want to tell them that laugh as much as you can, for their each laughter will bring you back tons of unbearable pain?

Or cry not dear oldie, for you won't be able to touch and comfort them in your future when they’ll be no more

But you and just you, all standing and walking and reliving those moments alone

Clinging onto them for whatever of the past is left that only lives through your memories

Do you not want to tell those old tales to the people?

Tell them, "Once upon a time..."

Do you think people would understand it the way you had seen it

Do you think people would judge through your actions that you did without your control?

Do you think people might think that this broken yet arrogant man in front of them could have had this ability to change what has happened, and could have altered this new present?

Do you think they care for the tales? For the truth that does not really matter to them because it is not something which is theirs, their personal?

Do you think they care about you, or try to understand what phase you are going through?

Do you think they pity you? Or anyone of them had been in your place...a similar place like yours, do you think?

Can you think or are you still suffering from your nostalgia, unable to come into the present, crying your heart out to the old winds that might time travel for your sake,

Just to convey your message, do you think?

Do you think this is even possible, the miracles?

Do you think that when these miracles didn't happen then, they could ever happen now?

Do you now believe in miracles...any more?

Do you have any faith, or let's say, some hope- is there any hope left for it? For something better, for something miraculous?

Do you have any hope?

You mean you are hopeless? You must not be having any dreams, any desires, because all is hopeless?

So do you want to live without your dreams? Do you want to die or do you still want to cling onto your memories to make sure that you'll never let them go?

Are you still crying? Is that wailing yours?

And do you want to live? What do you think?

Creep

This night is creepy
The shadows from the past are haunting me
Sucking on my hollowness (that I have been carrying since ages), tear by tear
In the drops I see my fear dripping down
And the shivering comforting my reality, my present
This cold weather is my only solace
For my mind drifts back into the lands long forgotten
The lands that bring a feeling of hollowness and nostalgia as a token of its ruination
It is telling me that it should not have ended,
It should not have been burnt down by ignorance
Because it was a beauty, though now just the memories that haunt the dreams day by day
I am not responsible for it
I am only an onlooker
Who is looking cautiously deep down into the narrow lanes of infinte depths of someone else's subconscious.

Apocalypse

A pale moon
Without sky
Turning sick.
A dark boat
Erect sail
No sea.
A tree, shivering,
Disturbed
Dead wind.
A bird flying high
Wounded
Burnt wings.
Turning of heads in graves.
Tormenting howls from caves.
Smoke
Escaping from a well.
A burning house
On sale.
The entire desert
In the leaps of flames.
Mountains running
Diving in oceans.
Lions eating
Their own body portions.
Fishes breathing
The red water of lakes.
Fruits ripening
Digesting their own seeds.
Snakes yelling
"For God's sake!"
The statues, smiling
Revealing their decayed teeth
"Time is up."
The Oracle says,
"Death is coming through the days."

Of What Shall I Write

Of what shall I write?
The cold, the shivering,
the blank maze of fog?
The pains and misunderstandings,
the subdues of relationships?
The tales of friendship?
The memoirs of happiness?
The bulk of lessons,
the raining bullets of thought?
Peddling legs, weaving dreams?
Unspoken words, silent gestures?
Hopeful assumptions? Discredited ideals?
Of what shall I write when the words
dissolve into the depths of blank diaries?
Of wasted time? Of vain reveries?
Of underrated feelings?
Of mainstream discussions?
Of ignorance, of vanity,
of distinguished personalities?
Of what shall I write
To you-
Of love? Of separation?
Of disparities of sitting miles apart?
Of what, my love? Of what?

Spotless

Some things are a feast to our complex thoughts
We know we are tangled
We know we are stuck in a confined room of our mind
But we project it out on the wall in front of us
And its projection is blank
As white and colourless as the colour of the wall
Until someone comes and asks what we are thinking
And we know, "it's just nothing".

Dormancy

That spark is still beheld in its dormancy
Away from any means of communication
Or the willingness of it driven by irreplenishable desires
That once screamed out during the course of night
In the entire span of a day, any day.
Is it fading, much to my fear?
Yet am hopeful, figuring out what went where and why
And how is the sleeping state achieved without the notice of night...?


(To someone who probably will not come across this post. If they do, I hope they'll recognize the charm they have on me intricately woven in the subtle parts of this post.)

A Drop Of Jealousy

Maybe tonight a drop of jealousy slide down my spine
With a freaky emotion born out of nostalgia
And a desire to fulfil what had already been sought for;
I see the other feasting in it
And I could sense the most rarest expression possible to me-
A vital need for it!

Art Of Experiences

New wounds are created
While the old scars cluster up
And form a memory.
We call them experience.
And while this happens, we make
Ourselves, fit to accept or deject,
Resigning to our own fate
Or fighting alone.
What is right?
Can we fight the fate?
Or shall we be submissive to
The ticking of a clock
And turning of calenders?
Every wound teach us
To be an artist
And we wonder why all the greatest artists
Have faced greatest sorrows,
When recalling the history.
When you are unique
No one can help you
You are helplessly unique
And the only best luck you have
Are your bad times
For they make you experienced
And turn your experiences into your art
And you end up exposing
The worst truths of life
To your audience
As you descend down the path of evolution
With immortality of your work.

Sinners

World screams out loud the silence of destruction.

And the thunder of time ripples the monotony of evolution,

Witnessing, storms of fire approaching

To engulf the already sleepless nights;

Clouds, all devoid of sea water but the sweat

Of corpses cremated from sun’s heat;

Mountains wither out; stars disappear,

Range of sight achieves the dim light of moon.

The sky laughs, drumming loudly on the eardrums.

Dreaming in their innocent prayers, the children

Think green in the meadows of love.

Windows and doors lead us to fire of hell

And the walls around smothers the bitter hope of life.

Dreaming is a sin in this world, they said.

And we are all sinners

For the sinners can only dare

…To dream. 

The Moment Of Revelation

A moment will come

When it will be this way or that

For what is done couldn't be undone

And nothing could go back to same.

A moment will come

When it will hurt less

For it will matter less or lesser

Than nothing.

A moment will come

When we will get used to it

When we will walk step by step

Towards the unfavorable.

A moment will come

When this unfavorable would hold no value,

And all would be neutral

But bitter and blunt.

A moment will come

When we will realize we have grown

For then, we would have walked through and from

Our own wounds.

A moment will come

When we would stop considering these wounds

As our destruction

And we will realize

That it is no more than a piece of time,

The work of our fate,

Or the sheer mystery of life.

A moment will come

When we would get exposed to the realizations

And we would realize that everything is nothing

And nothing will matter in the end

For in that moment

The moment would have come,

The moment which we will cover with

A peaceful blanket of our memories

And we will accept it as it is,

As we are…

Helpless.

Lines

The lines extend across a sheet of paper

Diverging through the corners they encompass the margins-

Margins of life

Where one feels its holiness

And destruction.

The lines form images, easy images; routes, easy routes

These routes carry us along and all we would need to pay is our trust

And compromises.

And so, we go about it for it feels easier, untangled, smooth

And hence, dies the sketch of our mind

That would have found its own path, tracing its own images

Outside the backdoor of our life.

Ignored lay these sketches

That instead of following might have laid a new path,

The new possibilities, the new history.

And soon these are cremated

In none other than the fire of

Our own resignation. 

Finding

Looking in the mirror and finding the world that

Obstructs the view of me to me myself.

I am that drop in the middle of an ocean

That reaches the land over the course of years,

I am those colors of the sky

That paint themselves around the setting sun,

I am that spark of sunlight

That dances in water besides the reflecting glass of vacant ships

Standing alone over the music of the unsaid world,

I am those feelings that need no description and are understood only by the worthy hearts;

I am the heart that sings,

The eyes that sigh,

The legs that never stop,

The fingertips that dance to every rhythm of each tune,

And the mind that bleeds

Being wounded by the ancient world,

By experiences all good, bad and neutral

I am that faith that creates god and miracles and cure and love…

This me I try to find

Among the phony people in the breath of nature

Releasing sighs over the exposed wounds

And under the magnificence of mighty sky. 

The Roads of Memories

Scuttling along the roads of memories,

The particulates of time get into the eyes-

Burning

Pricking;

Smoking,

The fumes of cries escapes out

Through the ventilators of face.

Tears moist the eyes reflecting the barren heart.

Soul…on hibernation.

Around,

The sights of algae

Suffocating the blue water-

As is the calm of mind agitated,

And liveliness of life buried under

The burden of societal expectations.

The mark of axe

Piercing through the heart of tree.

Fire all around.

And this walk over the ruins!

Haunts around the ghosts of dead insects

Stinging you with some unknown pain,

Reminding, recalling.

Bewitched mind

Pukes out the hopes of upcoming days

And covers it after, with the mud of past.

Birds, howling

In their nests.

Look over and find them with injured wings

Staring down at your injuries

And cuts

And bruises

And you realize you are naked

Under the gaze bestowed upon you

With the blessings of the monsters

Of these ruined lands.

You faint, lose yourself,

Falls down over the ashes,

Crumpled sounds,

Rustles,

The sky screams out.

You look over

Staring above, staring ahead above,

And knows then and there…

Some things will never change.

Shed From The Spring

What would earth do

When all its spring would have shed away

Into the past of calendars?

The beavers and raccoon

Would steal a part of it with them

That no one could measure

For its meagerness;

And the frogs and the snakes

Would be hidden in its lower space.

For the snow would settle on the bare branches

And warm them for other lives

Which arises from the furnace of hope and faith,

And will spread through the sands

To show its calm at the hour of sleep.

This would be called the beginning of a life

And another spring,

If you ask the earth

Which is shed from its spring.

Wedding Bells

Here comes the wedding scene

In the colds of May

Hanging about the silvering eyes

With the briskness of candle flame.

Going over the previous ages

All the time counts

Blues in the shades of grey

Speaks out.

Speaking of the troubling query

The old man thinks

What would have been otherwise if

Had it not been like this.

And again the heart sinks deeper

To where this interrogatory led

And here comes the wedding scene

Rousing the dead.

With all the years that is left of him

In a smile these aged lips fell;

Dances the weakened heart of this old man

To the sound of wedding bells.

Getting Old

On one of the branches hangs a lonely leaf

In the period of senescence.

Wrinkled, retarded, tired of its time

Covered with dust from its golden days.

Only noticed by the rays of sun

That sieve out through the dead branches

Looks down at an unawaken dog

That still might love its shade.

What would be this poor leaf thinking

Of life, of death, or of strong blows?

Or would it just being seeking blessings

Under the sun's and moon's gaze?

The Cloth

Show the mirror to your moral words

Tell, can you find but a damp’d cloth

Of shame and guilt,

That which sees an eye and touches a skin

Of the hands that know nothing

But conspires within their ‘moral heads’?

The cloth,

That hides not just what nature holds

As its beauty, but more

The doors of hearts and souls
And the truth of your moral words.

High On Ice On Darker Nights

High on ice on darker nights

A heart that flied to scary heights

A mind that filled the eyes with thoughts

The lips with words that wisdom holds

At the stake of earthly norms

And laws and threads that bind from storms

Tore this all with fierce in slice

A heart that flied to scary heights

To challenge storm with one much stronger

And facts of wonder that life ponder

Aware of fear of world behind

Hate was flowing from whose eyes

But beyond the stretch of emotional string

Or things that so much agony bring

More than what a life could hear

Or than that a death bear

But this heart sees the untold

Thinks what more a mind could hold.

High on ice on darker nights

This heart that flied to scary heights.

Eternal Light

I am walking on no road beneath but the sky above

And in front.

Far away lies the gaze of my eyes

Searching myself in eternity.

The feet searching the trace of my destiny

Over the thorns of my existence.

Water is what my heart is made of

And in my soul jewels an eternal fire.

I walk from nowhere to everywhere.

Trace me in wind

Breathe me in silence

Forget me in the darkness that will eat up

All the sunshine.

The darkness will rise to heaven someday

Where I will reach and find my eternal light.

Sky Is Moving Away

Trees, all shed from their summers

Stand nude

Biting the flesh of the sky

With their pricking nakedness

As like the bodies of millions of rootless people

Which prays through the crumbled bones

Tears the heart of the sky out.

Sky move out through sky

Damaging the dreams of millions of children

Proving the futility of the wings of thousands of birds

Taking with it the sun and moon and stars

Leaving behind a misty blanket of clouds.

While the sky darts without a word of farewell

People down rejoice at the sight of clouds

That brightens their only hope of survival

Only till the storm of realization.

Realization

I burn my soul with desire

I shriek out the miseries of my heart

But here saves your peace this dense cloud of ignorance

And on my existence this realization dart-

As my voice reach out all mute

My love is just a corpse to you.

A Dress

A dress of memory wears a self

Embroidered with smiles, rugged with sadness

Altered a times to bring out the best shape,

Holed by the times that transgressed to forgetness.

Hemmed down also for a numbered times

So hides the bares of beneath

Until the day it needs to be peeled

To walk naked, into the nothing ahead!

New Year

This New Year with the new rays of sun
How would you treat you sorrow?
Build a catacomb or excavate out some…?

With an hour of hope approaching
How would you react to an alteration?
With ebb of pessimism or with abundant orthodoxy…?

With the heap of past days ruling your mind
How you decide to spend new ones?
Planting a laugh on your face or burying some fear inside…?

With the blessings of the power above
What would you do to your own self?
Achieve and explore or complaint with stubborn…?

And while terminating the commencing year
Would you want your heart be filled with
Remorse and regret or replenished cheer…?

So here with the start of New Year
Know that it is your choice that matter
…make it worse…or make it better…?

And Now I Say Goodbye

As you go

I stand near the window, away from your gaze,

Staring over the length of sky

And wish you Goodbye

In my own way, in my own self

Such and so you won't even know

That someone somewhere is thinking of you

Writing of you in a verse of hers

Which may or may not die;

Being sure of it not reaching

To you or your realization of recognizing

Your own self

In the designing of its alphabets.

Only if the God wishes you bad

May your heart reveal to you

That has been deliberately kept from your eyes.

Towards The Peaks Of Joy

Gusty waves of wind doth blow

Through em-browned lands of days to go

Carrying leaves' yellowed state

That shows some breath in them remain

And there at height some new born charms

Carols of life they enchant

Higher above a raven fly

In the seas of the sky

Touching the joyous peaks of child

Running along the river's side.

Away

In the palms of white a ray of black does shine

Where a small cloud emerge out in a clear day sky

Some birds run to the depths of heights while

Some with the trees themselves bind.

But here lay an old dog with a broken leg

Watching how the time swims by the day

Unnoticed remains it till the day drops

And together with sun it closes its eye.

On the other side of the land flows a sea

A boat, through which, sails free

Away from those birds and that old dog on shore

It sailed and sailed making the water crease.

What Is It Like?

What is it like when

You move farther and farther from the sky, or when

Get carried off by a hurricane-

Round and round you sweep

In the air above sea. Or

Run all the way through earth

To save the poor bleak of red ball from drowning?

Can you get as far as not to notice the mere azure of the sky,

Its depth and immense?

Or travel to another isle with wind

Instead of falling in the mouth of sea?

And will you ever, while chasing the sun,

Reach where it would chase after you

With all its glare all the way long?

Will your path ever discover you,

While you are busy trolling your trail

In searching the destiny you choose?

That One Teardrop

As from your one drop of tear an entire ocean falls
Crushed beneath us, the grains of sand
Dithered in the infinity of the moment before you left...

Behind the hills the sun sets
Where, in the clamor of night the day bright is forgotten
Blood turned to ashes and the heart is molten
With the fire of time destructing the construction of two lives,
Disruption of two unified souls;

The world breaks into territories,
Seas breaks into drops,
Mountains breaks into soil,
And my entire life breaks into the segments
Of all the years, days and seconds
With the cataclysm of our time,
Chasm of our love,
And fall of that one teardrop
Like a rainstorm on the ground beneath
Entrapping an entire ocean in itself.

I Feel You

I feel you at the hour of smile
I wish you at the shed of eye
I miss you with the evanescent light
I hear you in those vivid delight
I guess I love you sometimes...

A Touch

A gentle hand cup those little eyes

And implant a touch with tender care

On the nose, below the dreamy lashes

And the words of truth were heard by ears.

Feeling an unreal magic around

A smile so innocent got set on face

And knew it would last for as long

As on eyes the eyelids stay…

Nymphetamine

I looked around. Nothing, just one of another busy day. Brightly shining sun, intentional minded legs, pollution causing horns, stomachs that earn from hopes and prayers, school going children, wandering cats, rats and street dogs, unnoticed chirruping of birds, black roads absorbing more and more of heat, smoke and dust, u-turns and turn overs, colliding and passing through, screams and whispers, all of which that reach to the senses of any person trying to avoid such chaos and in search of peace, as like me.

Because I was trying to concentrate on a single soul. The one I have seen next to one hundred times. The one with an intensive eyes, grayish hair, stealthy walk, tight fit blouse, ankle-length skirt, a red bag that shows to bear no weight, mascara covering the natural beauty of her eyes, and lipstick more bright than the sun itself as if trying to veil the spoken words or maybe the silence. This was a beauty, a fake beauty, but I guess hardly anyone is giving a second look to her. Why? What is she?!

I was curious. Not because I didn't have anything else to do that day, or because I know her personally, or that I got attracted to her eccentricity, but because a long time back I raped her out of my wits. She was a virgin and I hate virgins. But she was also special. Her vagina welcomed a hard core erect dick with all hospitality. She didn't enjoy but she didn't screamed either. She was calm. A calm which wasn't natural, a calm that had fire. I was alarmed with the ferreting gaze and a known smile she offered me. She remained there where I left her, but I ran. I don’t know why, but I ran and I felt better. After that day I wanted to see her again, to know her more, but all in vain. Until one day, same day of next year, I saw her the way I saw her few minutes back. I see her often since then and it burns a fire inside me. I want to touch her, kiss her, f**k her, hurt her. Every time I see her, she becomes my addiction. I couldn't get her off my mind and maybe that is what she wants!

I couldn't see her anymore. She has disappeared like any other time. But I didn't gave up the search as that is not in my habit. I kept looking for her knowing deep down that today I will get her. That is a general process. I looked among crowd and darkest of corners. I looked on towers and in the drains. I looked on pavements, I looked in cars. I looked in shops, in crowded bars. She could be anywhere. She is different.

Soon, at last I found her, far enough to be out of my reach and close enough to come under the range of my sight. She was walking with her back to me. She turned, smiled, and kept on walking again looking straight now. I was running now, avoiding the people that are trying to be an obstacle in my way. She was pacing around indifferently. Now she was just around fifty meters away from me. I ran faster. She was boarding the bus. Adrenaline was getting secreted from my endocrine so much so that I can taste it inside my mouth. The bus was going away, she was inside, I had to run faster. I flied and finally managed to hold up the handle and climbed inside. I looked around, my heart was beating very hard trying to capture up for air. My attention was not there but everywhere around. I looked through and through. She has to be here. Where could she go. I first looked in haste and then very carefully, focusing on every single thing. People were busy in themselves. They don’t have any idea who is among them. They were talking in themselves, reading in themselves. Until next stop arrived and a few of them got ready to leave. I started looking at each and every face. I couldn't miss her again, not when I have come so far. But none was her. Then there was a noise that vexed me. A small girl was crying. I avoided her. I have to search everyone.

But the noise grew. I looked at the child. She must hardly be two, in her mother’s arms. Her mother looked at me apologetically. It was then that I realized the expression of disgust and annoyance on my face. I calmed myself and smiled at her mother who was just stepping down. And the child smiled back…that strange familiar smile!

Be It

Be it
If it chooses to fly back to the old sights;
To the shattered lands, dried flowers,
Sunburnt darkness, dying stars.

And be it
If it turns its back
To a new world of bliss
Or another catastrophe?

Be it
If its happiness lives in reviving
What is left behind,
And could never become what it had been once,
A 'past' is what all is left of it.

Be it
If it trust itself to an extent of
Creating a whole new bridge out of the ashes
-Ashes that desire some blooming buds
Or flowing air
Or swaying seas.

Be it
If it wants to end its eternity
In something that has faded away,
Or is crucified by the cruel creeds
Of time.

Be it
If it flies in its own freedom of dreams
A heart- is why it is named so, maybe.
Let it live
Before it dies in the flood of realization
And wakes to the barren lands.

So be it, if it...

Celebrating A New Day

While the shadow snores aloud
Take a leap out of the warmth of bed,
Jump out of the soothing darkness of night
Overlook the fainting flame of the dying candle,
And honor the chance of flying to the other side
Of the world where a new light rise
Or glares intensely into your face.
Walk over roads, climb over the mountains,
Float in a sea or sink into an ocean,
Fly in the sky, explore a new height,
A new limit, a new sight.
Rip over a stone, or slide down the abyss,
But do not die your heart and spirit
Be a cup of heart,
Pour the water from your toil to the soil,
So a new plant will rise.
Trace the path of a bee,
Make a lock for a key
Spread the wisdom of your dreams
Before finding your way back
For the light that would strike your eyes now,
To open them.

Darkness Descends

The night falls with a silent sigh,
Cold and alone are we
The salvation for which you pray
Flares once, then dies,
Swallowed by guilt.
All hope must die.

Your soul thrives no more.
How could you cause such hurt?
Shadows around us, crying,
We have lost our light.

Cimmerian Gloom

The darkness sigh into a deep night
And the dense clouds protect the moonlight
From the shamelessly forbidden earth
The Lord above fears, the beauty dies
And the abyss dance over the mountain's heights.

Trees ruffle the sounds of dried leaves
Far far away from the spring's delight
Shadows growl the mighty past
Over the screams of hopeless days and years to bide.

In the coward days and barefaced nights
Flames of odium, revenge and spite endure
As the moments of love suicide!

Give Chance To A Mistake

Let the darkness haul over

For that is where you see the brightest stars...

Stand, dip your leg in the lake of error

And find a solution in all the jars...

Walk blind and fall into the abyss

So the wings would grow upon the bars...

Don't be afraid of getting ditched

As that is when your heart comes strong...!

This Moment Let It Be

Let it be
Just for a moment
Turn your heart into words
Speak from your eyes
Kiss from your soul
Turn your dreams into reality and reality in dreams
In between the heavenly Earth and Sky
Be pure as the dark of night
For a moment
Let it be
Equate your mind and heart
Past, present and future
As true like the truth itself
Say out what has never been said
And couldn't be heard
Live in the moment
This moment
With Love
As words form a poem
Or melody a song
Let it be for one moment
Trust to the extent your heart has strength
Say the truth of your love
Speak the language of romance
Twine your body with mine
And soul with soul
Eyes with eyes
Breath with breath
Lips with lips,
Get inside
Leave your trace
Of this moment
That would last for as long as it stayed in mind,
Forever, Let it be.

A Small Body

A small body as white as snow
That came out through the mother's womb
Became the father's thought, on forehead being kissed
'It resembles her, if only she lived...'

Beneath the Stars Over the Breathing Sand

Beneath the stars over the breathing sand
A woman shades in the embrace of man
As like the wave over the ocean's calm
Swayed through them the wind-borne charm
From the corner of the full moon's eye
History of love again revive
Around a strong arm soft fingers curl
The masculine delight was twirl
For the eyes that reached moon's white
The heart was somewhere left behind-
Resonating with the beating heart
Of the one who lay in arm.

For long was the magic from the moment haul
Till on eyes the sleep befall...

Love in Its Purest Form do Weep

Love in its purest form do weep
For the one, who loves you not
The stars shine brightly upon the sleep
While the heart, to beat, tries all it got.

Silence is a din when love silences
Or a rough of tree sans shade
Or when the 'mares upon the dreams dances,
As the sky slowly fades.

But over the truth what it seems
The dreams coming true in purest form
Till you receive the giant heaps
Of those deception, that leaves you torn.

And so where is love, there is alive
Not joys, but agonies, with deepest sighs.

Thy Eyes in Which False Beauty Lies

Thy eyes in which false beauty lies
And restricts the sight till it's range,
Seeks beauty in what appears nice
And soothe in what dies with age.
Thy eyes that sees what ancestors told,
Builds a fence in thy mind;
Believes in what those old books hold
And kills the length till moon's height.
Thy eyes that pour hate in innocent heart
So make it dull with black'st flow,
And sees around with envious thought
For joy, thee never let come to thou.
Thy eyes that complain with sleek'st sigh
The one who blooms their only life.

A Memory

A memory once so full of life
Has its strength to again revive?
Would have had if not been forged with
The load of sorrow and painful thing
But does that mean an arch of smile
Can be camouflaged with just few brine?
And so a memory once filled with joy
Could not bring cheer as like a child with toy
But the longing and fear hammer hard
Whenever you remind you of pain and stark
And that the happiness is such a weak
Unable to defend a memory!
But a single touch of agony can breathe
For years over the highest peak...?

Eye my Eye!

Scornful detest here it lie
Anger, hate reflect my sight
Amid your skillful moronic sense
Have a dare to eye my eye !!

With the contiguous idiotic charm
Try my attention, I demand
I assure you, will not stop
For you my patience and my calm!

Love me, like me, hate me, fight me,
Piss me, jerk me, kick me, fuck me,
But here my challenge for you to take
Eye me, if you're yet to go insane !

The Two Lovers

I opened my eyes after a blink
Gazing into yours as the time slipped away
I stretched my arms longing for yours
And the space was filled, as the air sway
The time forgot to move ahead
It seemed eternity in your arms
My lungs found some familiarity in the air
My ears were busy concentrating on your breaths.
A spectrum formed from the ray of hope
Illuminated the whole of the two worlds
The Moon and the Sun added their lights
And sparkled it over the two lovers.
We held lose to let our eyes meet
And came a little more closer
Closer than even the air could have ever been
And sealed our lips together...

A Rude Reply

All the years on earth had fed
A life that shed so several death
Hence put my deep sorrow a doubt, with fear,
Would some life the death bear?
Or that eternity imply an immortal end?

Then the laugh so loud fill my ear
'You immature mind can raise a large fear!'
'So provide my thirst some milk,' I say,
'Answer me, even if in a childish way'
'Discover by self!' is all I hear !!

Days With Pain Are Yet to Come...

Days with pain are yet to come

So as such the heart would bleed

Over the hole life has made

From which it’s been sprouted as seed

And the emptiness would hammer hard

On the broken and shattered heart.

The past would whisper into the core of mind

The future would fear with brines in eyes

Over the silence that shout aloud

Under the stillness of a dark cloud

‘return back’, as I’ll scream out

With cycles of life, though the prayers are bound.

As would I hug a vacuum tight

And love it, caress it, with all delight

Wait for it to reverse back love

Kiss me, console me with a few word

And the illusion would last no long

Nightmares follow with the wake of dawn.

And so I enter the door open

With fearful eyes for what is to come

And find it better to love in pure form

Than in the form of flowers over a mourn

So pace the life with love around

You never know when pain’ll surround…