Poem
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It flies away like a bird It comes back sharp and strong A steep mountain called feelings To ascend is a conundrum For the other side is neither dark nor is lit In this wobble of mystical uncertainty My heart, like a volcano, heavy and erratic Fears of a pinch to explode And desires a touch…
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The feeling of our virtues or vice We always get biten by these mice No one to bow to, no one to thank Not a one to love neither to bank Life of ours is pretty lonely On the look out to be the only Stream of colorful paths all around Yet…
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Silent raindrops, silent brain Silence, u devil owned wilful bane Neither love nor a piece of hatred Nothing lives when u r at red Today? tomorrow? Do u die, ever? With a vengeance, u r a rotting fever Filling the depths, u lay ur dredd Corcking the words, feels and even bread A thousand shrieks…
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There will be times where talk, none will and the pride thats on you, binds you still My hand doesnt wanna hold the lifelessness and do the deed, coz between my ears its joy and lonliness never letting me heed Oh friends they are and buds they will be Sometimes but not when u need, like…
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It is hopeful, It is lustful For it is needful and it is unquenchable Though it is foolish at the first sight It came at a great cost to the might It has intelligence in confusion Less astute and more disruption It is the light, an acting guide But it is written and all do…
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Once I saw the clouds, standing over a cliff beautous birds crushing the sky in a biff Once I was in a garden so green and fine only one rose, yet supplanting it with divine Oh yet another while, I was full of guile cleansed by a touch to my soul on an isle and…
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Oh my friend you are pure than the air but you are darker both in color and taste you come from the burning end yet of all the shit, you are so sweet you are there to sooth me when my heart is low and my head needs a blow Oh you are there, too…
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A little Benthon, at the bottom all alone It knows no dawn, never knew there is one Wondered! why was it so dark? ‘like the dead, darn!’ Silhouette at a span, it jumped to attention Bright and like a thorn, grew a tiny little line Calm, serene in motion, the thread moved towards the benthon…
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I dream in the night, I dream in the light, Of her eyes like shining pearls, Of her guise like a divine mural I think of her, I breathe of her, Asking the lord, ‘why did she happen to me?’ Then I sit watching into the eternity, waiting for an answer to be Is she…
Should I write 