I start with one
word, to become an autistic. No
gifts to spoil you. You have come down.

Ignorance was the teacher.
No path comes from history..
No need to agree with the god.

Want to live in water.
Want to kiss one's own death.
Nightingale rejects the small tree.

Once you were a
walking tree. Drifting. No one
stops planting the seeds.

The pangs. Moons clap.
A renegade makes a temple to die.
Therewas no other space left.

I will not call you.
Your book has been soiled.
I cannot read my own writing.

Your heart breaks.
My Mind was hurt. Tracing the pain
to know the poem's survival.

Nature and rhymes.
I translate the sorrow to flowers,
making a conduit god.

But who was responsible
for infidelity, as you like it to turn the
identity into dharma of consciousness.

When life burns out,
you create a colossus that will
ultimately destroy you.

Pinnacle of success
brings loneliness. You would
search yourself for company.

Who will not sit for
your wake, when somebody
pulls you out from the pyre?

Don't give me anything.
Let my blood flow through the river of
eyes. A tree dies standing.

Who is ready to go?
The demons want you to put to
torture. Nemesis was different from revenge.

The philosophy of existence
is, how do you define love? You want to
alter the will of god?

Nature-she was
playing with us. Any saviour becomes
a man-eater in savannah.

On descent the body
explodes to become a silhouette
to attract the creator.

You were endangering
the earth O destroyer. Was it
devotion or crucifixion?

Embalmed, you were
very difficult. Life has ignored you.
So what was the big pain?

Theoretically, the dead
man walks. You will not become
Newton. The apples are still falling.

The Greeks want to
be born again. Life is a challenge. You
have to climb the Himalaya like Sysyphus.

Somewhere a pin
drops in pitch dark. The deity
appears incognito, rising from dust.

I was dying for
your truths after separation from
myself in a disturbing moment.

Grave danger was for
eternal lovers, like swans, would
fight sincerely to die.

Sitting in a wake
you don't feel peace. The vigil
has a buzzing sound.

No benefit comes.
Your fingers speak for the broken
faith. Where gods sleep?

The candles in the wind
were blowing up at the bank
of the river, which had dried up.

Like snowflakes, you
fall on me to understand love.
I sit on a toadstool to write a poem.

When I think of stars
you want to know me to sit on the
grass, to filter the truth of pain.

A torch misbehaves,
when the sun dips and the moon
refuses to rise. Milk was not milk.

Put on hold your pain,
outside our love Your tears fall on
my hands to become flowers.

I go to the milk tree to
pay back my debt. You rub my arm
gently. I shed my negatives.

Paradigm? Man says
ghosts live. A snake never leaves
her eggs. My poems remain intact.

To divide the absolute
I have broken my arms. No enlightened
thought grieves. I shut my eyes.

It was a majestic fall.
I am reading myself in dark to discover
my fire in the sands of time.

I will start a new life,
cutting one by one, all the masks to
see the stigmas of the moon, who smiles.

You suffer, nothing
comes to your mind. Like you are fondling
your wounds lying in a tomb.

I will not steal your
face after the disaster of losing faith
in the religion of power.

I will not stop kissing
the red flames of bargain. The tears
will decide, no mausoleum will be made.

Go to dharma. Between
sorrow and romance, tender poems
come in crowd. The pain uplifts the temple.

I forgave my past.
My seers lived on the stars to predict
the tremulous life to come. I stand firm.

Ups and downs, I
pray to myself to draw a lip line
to drop the luxurious gift of rich gods.

A ghost truth
levels down,
the traffic. You enter
into catatonic stage.

Rage and anguish
will ask,
for the price of blood
flown down the river.

Listening
with the eyes. Leaffall,
luteus, music of descent
on grass.

A dust storm
settles on sill. I will
look through the window, at
a setting sun, unadored.

Skin to skin,
blood to blood, can there be a
digital love? To whom I address?

The first pain starts
from birth. One can not live in
the crowd. What is life's philosophy?

You will not be paralyzed.
Let it be homecoming. The intensity
takes you to discover the tragedy.

A midnight break.
The burning door. Manslaughting
begins. Dehumanizing. Terra firma cries.

A new fall. Moon is
fading rains tears. An unborn
god dies. Somewhere you are caged.

Night terrors. A lilly shuts
the eyes. The blind iris starts searching
Buddha in the garden of the love.

Let my pain go, then
I will think of you during break.
I was teaching pure truths.

You disturb my sleep
to read the holy books again. Why we
were guilty of not taking arms?

Don't shoot at bull's eye.
It doesn't bleed and you always misfire.
Your fingers will play Beethoven.

Don't break the moon
like a femme fatale. The poems.
will not be able to breathe.

As a confessional, such
pain from the burning home? Can you
write on the walls? Laughter and death?

The ****** comes with
tears. The hero has left the
ashes. The beauty will search for an appendix.

Between poverty and
theology. I want to take on you
in moonlight, but is not controversial.

It was very beautiful,
the rain dance of symphony invoking
the godless punishment.

How can you carry a
crowd to complete a journey at the
bank of the river of blood?

In abstract, I see
you. It was knowledge, moving on
sledge. The desire wants to come.

No future can be
conceived. The words are floating
but no meaning can become invader.

Can you show me
ethnic love and wash all the
tricks to change the gods?

I would take a call
after I seceded from my wounds.
It took me a while to become Buddha.

You outshine, being
a wave breaker. I touch the
stars to squeeze light from dark curves.

Will you remain
vegetable? Your fingers play
like the blind pianist on my face.

Your mercy was very
little O god for equal-halves.
Nobody was perfect.

Alive and kicking
yet harmless, the moons were
alone in togetherness.

You always lied. How
deep was your pain, when the sun
was rising without light?

Are you ok? When
the moon rises on sea, I become
worried about the blue butterflies.

The Morning Glory always
inspires me, in her swaying to
welcome the beautiful dawn.

And when your sleep
goes, you start reciting shlokas
with smoke and sparks.

Words were white, but
in the end days replies were black.
The retreat translates to old age.

You ask the death to
stay at bay. When you were born, there
was a loud sound. Dying will be voiceless.

What is the philosophy
of giving away one by one your bones
and flesh. Only soul will slip away unknown.

In void of departure, you get
a rose a day. Your eyes were very red.
Was there any violence in your path?

What should be done,
when the moon becomes very small like
the man, who will rise from ground zero.

Your queen of night
spills a scent of unknown smell.
I become a bohemian of suffering.

No death stop for colored
marbles. I am not dying to bring
the childhood for once.

Pretending comes to the
fore. Midriff of the moon was taboo.
This was a slaughter-a-day.

Are you a Mimosa pudica?
Not to be touched in sunlight.
It starts moving vigorously.

Slowly the pain of
heart sinks in dark. You write on the
coal-light. Without rhyme love is lost.

Your noises eject some
questions. There were no answers,
when you stand in water to find mercy.

The lesser success-meets
the love, honey, sequence and incognito.
Don't Come when the owl calls.

Ah, my soiled words
may hurt you. I placed them on
the altar of faith.

A psalm delivered by
a crimson red rose. I will write
another sacred poem.

The torches are dead
and I cannot read the script of
unwritten dharma of god.

Two kisses for a golden
lie. Don't manipulate the shelter.
The Moon will take rest in my poems.

Song of sparrow has
died. I am bewildered. From where
I start writing glory of sunrise?

My every nerve trembles
when I gather the dried jasmines,
you dropped saying goodbye.

There was something
wrong. Yet I had not come
to my home. Trust was eroding.

Moon comes under fire.
Maskless he was stealing beauty
of earth, in freezing dark.

I had no ambition left.
Even touching the truth of
three layered lies of love.

There was something
wrong. As yet I had not come
to my home. Trust was eroding.

Moon comes under fire.
Maskless he was stealing the beauty
of earth in freezing darkness.

I had no ambition left.
Even touching the truth of
three layered lies of love.

An evil inside,
in your lives. Never done
personal language. Don't fight with god.

Why did you rip-off
the promise and push the statue
in the river of innocent pain?

Not a thing. It was
immeasurable faith of man for a
man through the image. The muse suffers.

Suspicion was insatiable
I cut my hand. Why were you
stoking the sad poems?

Like burning at stake,
the storm wears the smoke in the dark.
What was the red side of pain?

I will find another door,
which speaks the karishma. Life
has betrayed me day in and out.

Whenever I write
a poem, blood oozes out.
Why was I catching the fire?

The desire is to speak
short sentences to convey the
answer to black questions.

Slowly the empathy
works. The beautiful color of red blood
has many meanings. I said you were my blood.

In age of consent,
you want to **** yourself. But
the surveilance will watch.

Pain comes in reverse,
saying goodbye. Was it an animalism?
Your love is in heartbeats.

Whose idea was this?
Tragedy is born daily to whiten the eyes.
Milk turns black to succeed.

This poem is written
by me to humanize the animals,
capturing the heart of god.

This should be taken
as passive love. The thunder
will make a new home for you.

Fascinating. My pain
throws a light. You live your own
life near the tombs. You will never die.

I am searching for the
mistakes in me. The hardening
vision will decide who was the culprit.

You are not living
for the neighbor. I stitch the wounds of
keys and locks of humanity.

How long you will
find the truth. It is on the beach.
Not in the water, not in the sky.

Don't live on me.
Be kind O first god, when a man
breaks, the world changes. I scream.

Let the religion be
redefined. No need of violence.
I feed the ants to get peace.

Sometimes the myth
of love shatters. Immensity must
rise. I am creating mercy.

Encore, faith was
blind, written on the tongue
with a thorn. One awakes the other.

The mysterious pain
was mine, moon watch. The
vespa has a job to do.

The teacher reads the
road. Your step will bleed
unknowingly. Who tells the god?

Will you innovate a
big red spot? What is its name?
******? Will you improve your grammar?

The history has been
wounded. It is still bleeding. Did
you sacrifice a rising moon?

You were not there, where
sun was burning to give the light
to blackened pages of life.

Your frontier was
spurious, but you wanted to become
a god, by collecting the stars.

I stood inside the
circle of a zero and started shooting
the parasites near the honeydew.

Who writes the history
of man's fall beyond imagination?
I want to see another Joan of Arc.

Heaps of wood wait.
Adultery happens in bones, ashes.
You will find black truth again.

I am dying daily.
O god, finger by finger. I have spent
my life remembering you.

No hunger. I will always
move like a monk. Who generated
the body same, mind different?

A lost soul was
searching the crying body of fusion.
Do you know some things?

A slender pain of wind
bids you a farewell with a touch.
Your lips were mortified.

Sugar corrupts you,
not salt. We suffer comparatively.
The first love was alive.

From betrayal to white
pigeon, this was disaster. In tick tack
moment, you can fall apart.

Your ornaments, how
much you need? You were born
into hate. I am collecting your wounds.

You can **** yourself,
but love is stronger than the sun,
when you get a little kiss of immortality.

You must see your
own fall. The panther wants to
**** himself. Elephants change the path.

I don't want to believe
in anything. God believes in me.
The roses do not want to go to the mausoleum.

What I will do, sitting
in the dark, carrying tears in my
pocket. I want to stop birthing.

Time has bitten me
to deflect. How far is the ocean?
Death has no image.

I am nowhere. My lord
did it? The day has stopped moving.
One corpse will come above.

How many breads, we
carry to feed those who have no mouth?
The Night was very red.

Interim a random
love of moon, with a fury of
dawn's innocence. I abandoned the stars.

Chilling grip of fear
amalgamates the blood of Venus.
I watched the assassination of a lantern.

A rose covers your eyes
with scented petals. Would you inhale
my words of ******? A salt lake dies.

Light and water, who
denied them? The wind says, the body will
tell a tale of hidden beauty.

The pain lingers, when the
pure love shakes. The sun has
not knocked on the door.

The memory hits in
dark. There was a scene of human
fall. I was born originally, No thought of separation.

Looking at the menace
the maker of life goes into depression.
One day the world would say, its end will not come.

You don't want to wash
your sins. Metaphysics has failed.
The mind discovers new pains.

Blood is too hasty, changes
the veins. The causes are culprits.
It is easy to create delusions.