Me

It feels great to be myself now,

not a son or someone’s in law,

neither a friend, nor a foe,

Nowhere to come from,

not a place to go.

My myriad faces and their scars,

the body, mind, and my soul,

It’s great to be left only with them now,

Nobody to ask a question,

and none waiting for an answer.

There is nothing to lose,

No fortune, no fame

And there is no one to blame.

Now, it’s just me

And it feels great,

It feels like god being just me.

Forgotten

I look at the faces

of men and women, I once knew

 

And I see

that they have changed so much,

They seem almost new;

 

Or have I been, so long gone

that I have almost forgotten

They way they looked at me

and I at them.

 

Have I been so long attached to

myself

That I do not remember

All that I am detached to.

 

What do you do?

What do you do?
When you have nothing to.
Do you sit by the window,
And look out, 
Look out at the world,
Wonder, what it is like to be that bee that hums and hovers over that red rose,
Or think about the decisions you made; the path you are walking on; and the people you chose.

Are you disturbed when you are alone?
Shhh! Come close
Close to yourself. 
Its cozy and comfy and lonely,
Better than those who are but are not
And those too who want to and cannot.

What do you do?
When you have nothing to.
Do you look into the mirror
And embrace the facade,
Click yourself and then edit
Whilst nature loses its credit.
Or do you rather see into your eyes
Try to locate the scars on your soul.

Is there a want of death lurking  about?
Hmmm! Shut up. 
Why to bother with it,
Or why to try to grasp its arms,
It is on its way to you anyhow.
So, you better live and act
Before the final bow.

What would do you do?
If you had something to do.
Hold someone's hand and with them stay
Or by yourself walk away,
Chain yourself with the laws meant to bound
Or hustle to change the things around,
Sweat and bleed to carve your way, 
Or would you let go and give away,
Dream a reality
Or lose yours to a dream,
Mediate in silence
Or burst out in screams,
Try to find what you desire
Or would you lose yourself in the world's mire,
If you had something to do?
Would you hold someone's hand and walk away
Or in your solitude forever stay.

To the tune of silent nights


Away from the world,
And it's deceiving ways,
I sit shrivelled up,
In solitude, and in her praise,
As the tranquil tune of the silent night, 
Plays; and plays; and plays.

Through the open window,
I gaze at the clouds,
Overlaying the starry skies,
Like a spotless shroud,
As my soul's unheard whimper,
Grow loud; and loud; and loud.

Until they are lost
In the silence that plays,
And whilst they depart,
The emptiness stays,
Amidst them the tranquil tune of the silent night,
Plays; and plays; and plays.

Therein creeps slowly her face,
Before even my senses yearn,
And utters to me in a mystical tongue,
That I try, but cannot learn,
And before even my eyes blink
It begins to burn; and burn; and burn.

And with it, burns my soul,
Tickling my heart with pain,
As I gaze into her fiery eyes,
Try hard, but fail to explain,
But my hopeful heart never fails to try
Again; and again; and again
.


Away from the world,
And its deceitful ways,
I sit shrivelled up,
While her ashes stay,
Amidst them the requiem of broken dreams,
Plays; and plays; and plays.








Help

Help me, 
Would you ?
For I have fought more than I should have
More than I was meant to
And now I cannot anymore
So would you help me give up.
I have walked too fast, and for too long now
I have walked more than my feet could
And now they refuse to walk anymore,
Would you please let me stumble and fall in your embrace.
I have smiled a lot in my solitude 
I have laughed all alone 
more than anyone should
Never mind that I could,
But now I can't deceive myself anymore
So would you just look into my eyes
And let mine cry.

 

One to the head

One to the head
One said 7 times, the gun was shot,
The other said it pierced him thrice.
Both of them sure, that one was to the head,
And the next moment a human being died.
He was a writer
And a man who expressed,
And showed the World
True colours of a false paradise,
These heathens in a legion’s disguise,
But their reaction, was full of surprise.
For instead of understanding
What he was trying to make them understand,
They blamed him for his religious reprimand.
And summoned him in the court of law,
And that court was swell
And that law was flawed.
But before the law could prove his guilt,
He was condemned of sins and shot,
In the middle of the street,
Against the sun’s glaring heat,
He lost the battle he never fought.
7 bullet shots were shot
Three piereced through him,
But it took just one to the head,
To leave a writer and a human being
In the street, bloodied and dead.
Have no clue about the others,
He has my respect,
For he only said that was true,
Which others could not accept,
And that there is something wrong with the world,
Do you not suspect?