The snakes sent by Satan,
Slither past our skin.
But you and I are special -
You and I are beyond sin.
The apple is forbidden,
But you and I have set our eyes,
On something that is much beyond
The realm of Paradise.
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 11:40 PM UTC
Everything that we hold dear -
Destroys us.
We keep holding on.
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 9:52 AM UTC
They gazed in wonder at the sky -
Colors splashed across the canvas;
Violet, blue, indigo,
Green, orange, red, yellow.
They called it picturesque, and then,
Went home to appreciate,
A man who had closed all gates,
On groups of people
Based on race,
Based on color,
Based on faith.
The hues of their skin were not
Enough to secure a place,
Within a world they sought to start
A new life, but they forgot -
The darker shades of their skin,
Made them kindred
To all sin,
Made it fair
To prevent
Any soul from stepping in.
Color, now, is an abuse,
If your skin,
Is all the wrong hues.
Feb 1, 2017
Feb 1, 2017 at 2:15 PM UTC
I had a wound,
It hurt a lot.
But it gave me,
Each poem I've got.
Then one day,
I taped it up.
My writing, now,
Was not enough.
The wound and I,
Ironically -
Had to work,
In harmony.
I pressed the wound,
For it to bleed.
The words flowed out,
For all to read.
Dec 16, 2016
Dec 16, 2016 at 6:42 AM UTC
Her body was battered. Any form of liquid within her circulation was stained red. It was pouring out from within her - profusely, incessantly. It overflowed out of wounds and inundated every crevice of her aching body.
She was dying.
The surface of her body was bruised. There were wounds that ran deeper than medicine could fix. Others were in the process of forming. She was weeping with a wail that could be heard loud and clear.
Her children sat watching idly.
One was ignorant, one in denial. One was oblivious. One was vigilant, observing silently.
Her dying body had spectators.
Slowly, parts of her started to lie still while others were in the process of following suit.
The continents came crashing down. The waves inside her wrecked the land she held. The jolts of her body sent earthquakes down the entire room.
Her children were disturbed for a while, but soon, they carried on with their routine. For them - it isn't over till it's over.
So she closed her eyes and let her body die. She gave up. She felt parts of her crash and burn. It was the end. It was time to go.
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 6:53 PM UTC
If you're lost,
Deep in thought,
And you can't find your way.
Give me your hand,
I'll help you stand,
Against every dismay.
If you can't find,
The peace of mind,
That you need to go on.
I'll share mine,
For, no mind,
Should ever be forlorn.
There is no cause,
There never was,
To go through life alone.
Together we'll go,
Hit the road,
To our way back home.
Dec 13, 2016
Dec 13, 2016 at 10:12 AM UTC
Like water held back
By reservoirs.
Like a reckless tsunami
Leaving no survivors.
Like ferocious winds
Engulfing small cities.
Like a broken mind
Trying to be less gritty.
Like a torn out page,
With a lot to say.
Like immense outrage,
Finding its way.
Like oceans with worlds
Hidden beneath.
Like a universe - vast
But also discreet.
Like pen to paper,
No holding back.
Like a mind unleashing
An open attack.
Words that are struggling,
Constantly fighting -
To see light of day,
Such is her writing.
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 8:09 PM UTC
The edge of the balcony
Keeps beckoning my name.
The gun in my closet,
Under layers of clothes,
Has felt my hands brush along its sides -
A bit too often,
No - way too many times.
The knife that I cook with,
Seems sharper than most days.
Not sharp enough, perhaps -
Not yet, anyway.
And they have all told me,
The feeling will pass.
And yes, it really does -
More often than not.
But when I think about,
All that I've really got -
I start to imagine:
That extra step,
The pull of the trigger,
The serrated blade.
Setting me free,
Burning me down,
Dragging me away.
My angels will lose,
My demons will stay
And come out to play.
©sajeershaikh
Dec 5, 2016
Dec 5, 2016 at 3:18 PM UTC
I do not pine for glory,
I suppose that makes no sense -
I cannot smile for flashing lights,
I cannot pull pretense.
I must keep all sanity intact.
I admit, I cannot compromise -
On anything that disturbs my peace,
Or brings sorrow to my eyes.
I fail to see what glory does,
That you, yourself, cannot achieve.
Within confines of your mind,
At rest and forever at ease.
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 6:10 PM UTC
In the winter of '13 -
Like a well oiled machine -
You and I were so in sync -
You my king, and I your queen.
Then summer drew its breath,
It was as good as it could get -
You and I with all our vows:
Together till embraced by death.
The years slowly passed us by.
Though we didn't see eye to eye,
We were broken and reformed,
We learned to compromise.
We are an imperfect art,
Two halves of a beating heart -
In sickness and in health,
Till death do us apart.
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 5:19 AM UTC