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.
He is so within
That he is without,
His world a floating mirage.
a salty pond of doubts.
His days, coloured by dreams,
His nights, conquered by screams,
He is isolated in the crowd.
Dead, he walks amidst living,
His skin: his soul’s shroud.
He is high,
And is travelling higher on the highway,
To a place that knows no pain,
And the souls residing there,
Are all ancient, and insane.
He has been on many trips,
This one, the final voyage,
That promises to set him free,
And gift him his salvation.
A sea shell she saw, by the shore Wanting to grab it, she walked up close But the shell did not stay by the shore For every step she took towards The shell too moved few inches away from the shore. Intrigued, and longing for the lifeless yet moving thing She stepped into the sea, and followed Yet every time she would reach close - arms stretched to grasp, The shell would move deep into the ocean vast And with the shell into the sea she swam without surcease, Desperate and desirous for the shell's secret reward She stroked in without keeping herself on guard. Then suddenly, to her surprise The shell opened up and revealed the most precious pearl her eyes had ever seen Enchanted and enthralled by the glimmering gem She stretched her arm afar And caught the precious pearl in her palm. Rejoicing her triumphant feat She turned to swim back to the sea-shore Though found she was too within and could not swim any more, So with the gem grasped in her palm She let go of her breath And fell forever in the ocean's arm, All for a sea shell she saw by the shore That bewitched her heart, and claimed her soul.
My soul is scared
of the past, that haunts
and of the uncertainty, that future holds.
It is scared
Of the beginning: unfamiliar
and an uncertain end.
My soul is scared for it has forgotten
all of that, which it once knew
And roams like a damned spirit
Condemned; lost; unknown.
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 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?