my words love to dance
on the rhythms of your heartbeat
but each prose without you
always seems incomplete
the stained ink on the pages
become more brighter with each fall
as i breathe in the aroma
from the depth of your beautiful soul
you're my prodigy classical
mystifying divine sound
An unpublished masterpiece
waiting to be found
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 1:40 AM UTC
Why do I need a vile to hide my face
when my emotions are not my own
nobody have any idea about them no can trace
because they're never ever shown
for years I've suffering these blindfolded visuals
I can't figure the importance of my looks and beauty
locked behind the doors of tradition and rituals
in the name of good moral character and duty
still I wear that vile everyday
and my voice is also limited to whispers only
now that vile is whole world to me
because I have learned to live it lonely
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 8:12 AM UTC
And here I’m, lost
Wondering
With each ticking of clock
Pondering
Searching for the reasons
That I already know
Walking on same path, boring
Still I will go
Full of contempt
Discouraged
Even the reflections
Confused and Razed
beliefs seems lies
and trust is ruined
eyes full of dried tears
heart like freshly wound
death is ultimate
silence and satisfaction
with no more thoughts
& no more rejection
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 1:10 AM UTC
my soul betrayed me
left me lonesome in this world
my voice wasn't loud enough
and i couldn't scream out those words
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 11:14 PM UTC
The age, when they are supposed to play with toys
Picking up the broken & trashes for others, these Garbage boys
In the piles of disposed plastic chocked their story sentimental
The boys, dusty body so frail & gentle
Wrapped in clothes, tattered torn, dull & discolored like them
Surviving against the rules of Darwin
Too starved & malnutritioned & no one cares
Only the open sky & thrown food, they share
In the chaos of every city they have to find a place to sleep
They collect the things, what people call waste & cheap
No parents, no future, just the harsh life on the road side
Living in their small world unaware with pride
Shiny cars & luxury clothes, sparks their eyes
Telling that they have dreams,
But Their memories full of hate, insult & razed
Which are permanent & can't be erased
Unexpected rains, deadly cold & sweaty summers
Not every one of them end up like a Kite Runner
When people sleep comfortably in their sweet home
They stand there with the fainted & blurred shadow alone
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC