The harbingers of death intimidate the soul
The mind works up to derive endless possibilities with a certain unanswered question-
Is it supposed to end this way?
A series of phantasmagorical events have plagued the lives
Although real, but i prefer to sound like a brainless Pollyanna
The sufferings shall soon culminate
And the negligible nexus would become tangible
No catastrophe would annihilate the presence
And if the sisters of Fate were to suffer a reversal,
We'd live the way we dreamt, You and I.
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 2:25 PM UTC
Green-eyed monster can ****
Green-eyed monster can destroy.
Green-eyed monster can **** your head no matter what.
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 2:14 PM UTC
The sight of seeing the loved ones entangled in egregious activities certainly stings the heart
The sinners being oblivious of the repercussions and the risk of falling apart
What once was a distant thought now becomes a part of the daily routine
If only there was another lifeline to go clean
And purge the soul of the felony
For the unaccountable vagaries could oppose the winds that now blow in accordance
That the truth be discovered is inevitable
The mind hath to travel back in time and deter from doing what it once never did
The will power hath to exterminate the 'impossible' from the lexicon
As it belongs only to the fools who haven't ever tried whole heartedly
The powers of the will cannot be undermined
For wonders do happen when the will overcomes the shackles;
Shackles which are nothing but infirm figments of imagination.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 3:53 PM UTC
A portent of the intricate was looming in the sky
With its fiery red eyes fixed upon its prey
Already down the cliff, I wondered if there was a way back
There were those evil birds stooping towards me
Thought they'd **** me at once
But they chose to torment till the very existence of the soul is crippled and crumbled
The death still precludes for the free fall had some rising hopes
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 4:10 PM UTC
As clear as the placid water his soul was
To hell with the devils, they vitiated his presence
Living in a world of dreams all the time
He never realised when the clock struck nine
Plagued by his own demons, he made a tower of miseries
Although he wore a smile but it was only beguilement
To the deluded creatures which danced around him.
In the scorching heat of the desert, a frigid separation had seeped in
The reasons which he himself was oblivious about
But this is how the state of things are supposed to be
So hazy.. so murky.. Confusion befuddles this issue
Does the nexus exist or was it just another series of co-incidental events?
Even if Lucifer ran all the way he wouldn't enlighten the dungeons of his heart
For they have been scarred beyond measure with a myriad of hapless events
Still standing in the queue waiting to exterminate his soul.
The assault has begun. Who would win?
The wicked sisters of Fate who have been conspiring since eternity or
The miniscule luck which has been showered onto him?
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 5:27 PM UTC
The care and love i cannot show
But it'd always be there and never go
The vicious circle of life exacerbates the state of things
Asphyxiating my presence and clipping down my wings
Only if it could alleviate the miseries
If it could.
Feb 22, 2014
Feb 22, 2014 at 3:00 PM UTC
With every morning, a new hope does rise
Only to suffer the most untimely demise
Time flies by, getting closer to the days when all would be gone
And only memories would be extant to count upon
I sense a devastating tempest coming to haunt
A storm, wild enough, to exterminate the most entrenched roots
Only if the truth could have worked to alleviate the misery
But letting it out would only be a treachery
Absconding into dreams and leaving the reality behind is a part of the routine
The reality suffocating the very basis of my existence is the whole scene
When the wall of my patience does fall apart,
And melancholy fills the chasm to the brim in my heart
Like a horcrux, I'd break apart.
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 11:13 AM UTC
The stylus is more potent than the dirk they say
You don't fail to make a mark even when picked up by a dilettante everyday
Esoteric idioms your masters make you write
While the poignant sentences you write come only late in the night
Someday you are in the hands of the who's who of the town
The other days you spend in the hands of a clown
You come clad in plastic,platinum,silver and gold
With different coloured lifelines-blue,black,red,green and pink
And a plethora of stories you keep clandestine and untold
A travesty you make of the fools and to the prudent you make think
With every word you write, you pant for breath
And when your heart stops beating, they mark it as your death(end of a refill)
You can be cryptic, there's no one stopping
You can be acerbic even with beauty on the outside(the beauty of the letters)
From the Treaty of Versailles to the varied pompous constitutions penned, you've always left me shocking
Blessed be the hands that cradle you and take the ride(ride of the writing)
You take them through the best roller-coaster journey of words
Bringing out the inexplicable happiness be it just the lyre of the birds
A predilection i have for you, for you engender the best in me
I know I'd always have you in the middle of a dark chilled night come what may be
Its you whom i turn to with my querulous platitudes
And you furnish me the answers with a benevolent smile and gratitude
Its you who defines me, for i am nothing but an amorphous mould
Still learning when to be bold and when to feel cold.
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 2:00 PM UTC
With the onset of the sun in the horizon, the little creatures awake
And dance and sing melodies tantamount to a group of chortling people
Oh, how i wish such convival sights be captured
And played back on repeat everytime you feel low
As vagabonds they fly in search of food and shelter
And when the sun does set, off they disappear in their nests
Robbing the nature of its beauty
For every day they have to give a survival test(from their carnivore counterparts)
The broke pigeon was no different, her eyes gleamed better than Cindrella's did
The vicissitudes of life had rendered it to be a mendicant.
But she was a resilient creature and she continued her fight everyday
Her condition started to exacerbate when she laid 4 snow like eggs
Gathering twig by twig and working for an entire afternoon meticulously
She made a perfect home for her babies which were about to hatch
Be it a human or a bird, mothers always foster the children
Off she slipped into a reverie of a bright future with her kids
But the evil nature had its own sinister plans
Her thoughts were interrupted by a cacophony of sounds of other birds
She knew the sound was ominous
Peeping out of the nest she saw a dozen eagles encircling the tree
Her blood ran cold, she wrapped the eggs around her and a teardrop made its way from her eye
The leader of the eagles stoop towards her and hit her with a beak
The broke pigeon pleaded for its life saying-"I will offer myself to you as soon as my kids learn to fly"
The Machiavillian eagle agreed at first, flew up high,leaving the broke pigeon to heave a sigh of relief
The sigh was a short lived one as it swoop down with two other eagles on the broke pigeon
Performing an act of utter perfidy, there was a sly smile on its face
Turn by turn they devoured the broke pigeon
And kicked the eggs down the nest
It was a brutal ****** much more heinous than the ones we see
But there was none to witness the fate of the broke pigeon
And even if there were, they'd never know the events that transpired
Never know.. never know.. never know..
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 11:15 AM UTC
Involved in a constant fracas with his own self,
On went he to find peace on the road to nowhere
And there again he was deceived by mirages,
Mirages of the paradise world he wanted to be a part of.
And when the picture of the glacial reality surfaced out, he went back in time
For the fear of the glacial reality sent shivers down his spine
He came to a standstill with only barrenness around
And with a thud back he came to the ground
The heart and the mind were seldom in consonance
For the mind had to thwart the heart of its feelings
Feelings, so intense that would involve the payment of penance
The probabilities of the reality surfacing out were as dim as a dark desert night
For the words had been well concealed in the surreptitious corners of his soul.
The bone-chilling cold of the desert would succor his heart of the fight
Is he on his own or will he have someone to make him feel whole?
When the mind loses its mammoth battle with the heart
The reality,sweet as honey, would come to existence and lose its sole essence
A catastrophe would then descend
Only the Heavens know the repercussions it would have
Maybe there'd be a silver lining in his eternal dark clouds.
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 2:42 PM UTC