"Forever" he mumbled carelessly. He expressed the word like it was another ordinary word.

"Forever" I reposnded like the word was a melody. I expressed it like my life depended on it. Because it did, and still I mean it today, even watching you with a girl that is not me.

"Forever" we both said. But only one of us meant it.

Welcome to the land of dead,
where we use light too see darkness,
a place where all the stairs lead down,
where the dreams of the ones living are just tossed around,
welcome to the land of the shaken,
in the words of the oppressors.
where the power is of the hater,
where the inferior cater,
the needs to a so called saviour

welcome to my land, let me introduce myself,
they call me death,
I dont know why,
its a matter of opinion, lets not cry
over this.
after all this is all an illusion,
the profanity of consciencness
a part of everyones delusion,
its a world of the weak and the dead,
its a world of the children who are fed, the
A's and B's of the previous generations faults,
where solution is to be found, in the hands of tomorrow,
which, funny as it may seem, will come around later,
Ohh did I tell you, I am a hater,
a hyporcite crafted by time, a dream slayer,
a part of the cycle and maybe a creator,
they say there is no start of end to a circle
there is a puncture in this system
a few still have the sparkle in their eyes
the ones to dare to dream and dream to conquer,
whos life is not confined by the narrow domesticated
herds of the all mighty,
all mighty is within them and their faith not shaken,
the broken system, isnt their end.
I hope
but the society i live in,
doesnt change them to me,
lets hope to slayers of dragons,
are not slayed by the rats.
lets hope, they are not chased by the chosen ones,
who happen to be chased by the previous faults and their disgrace.
Its a system to dawn a new birth of time,
where the conventional knowledge,
is not worth even a dime, where the hopes,
of the successor are held be the creepers of
the mimes.
the mimes that led to this,
the ones who changed the way things work,
the mimes the silently conquered the world,
they threw dust, into my eyes and into yours
its the death of time and eveyrone else of course.

She was the unlit base of a burning fire,
an account of the impending disaster,
She was the loudest cry in silence,
She was part peace, part violence

Her hand run down, from her epic falls about the town,
Her eyes drown, in the sorrow of an inbound hound,
a hound of fear, a hound of cry, a hound of desperation and endless lies

She kept on waiting, till the last day came,
swept her off into the drain,
she then found a beam of light,
she finally stood up for
a last fight.

Her sadness remains this day on,
her hopes of happiness, long gone,
she was then, she is now,
the testament of time,
she is the grand master,
a true burning disaster.

Here is a story, not different from others,
just to confuse you and make you wonder,
it is not much, so dont expect anything at all,
its a story about a joker and his downfall.

well lets begin from the beginning,
before the start,
lay a joker, thinking about his past,
He kept on laughing at his own jokes,
decided to become a comic for the good 'ol folks.

He kept on laughing and made others laugh,
he finally made a name but got caught in a raft,
the wind was agaisnt him and so was time,
the water rose high and destroyed his climb.

Now the smile turned upside down,
its just a demise of another clown,
it was the same, everyone kept of laughing,
except the joker, who wouldnt stop crying.

his identity became a horror,
a waste of society,
his existance was now
a story of gory heirarchy,

Irrational being in an imperfect world,
he is a reflection of some of the whirls
he is the one with no possible partner,
a looser in life but a skillful carver.

he is the joker, a killer,
a master, a cheater,
he is the joker near his end
he is the joker.......

A puff of smoke, a sip of wine, couldn't make the events so divine,
a bit more tame.
The hopes of yesterday and the sorrow of today came down together, with a rumble and dismay
fresh renderings of thoughts are all that's left, crafted by time as just another bliss of hope,
when ignorance itself is becoming a friend from a foe,
all the ****** souls, the epic fails align to scatter once again as the earth squeezes out the very last of their happiness
A divine play I tell you, of a deity dark and grey, igniting the fire of death and sorrow among the people already in hell
Damaged houses, even more grave dreams
the number of the ones no more, is like that of a movie scene,
bodies upon bodies, death piled them up, happiness a question, another unsung song.
It shakes now, it shakes then it will shake everyone again,
the earth I mean, not the hopes and dreams, not the truth within the lies,
guess the shaking never stopped, it just breaks you down,
but a Nepali is a fighter, we'll turn it around.

One of his masks fell off, but a replacement was ready,
Another lie was spoken, but his words still remained steady
hands began to shake, hope began to shatter,
happiness was a question, did anything even matter?

in a room he was locked, with the devil himself,
gateway to hell began to increase its strength,
steps to the beyond became wider,
he began to give up, it was wrong that he was a fighter.

Sweet memories of the yesteryears,
taste of the fine wine,
a glass full of whiskey, a puff of smoke,
smell of fresh coffee began to repel,
The things that were left, he began to sell,
for a price that it didn't deserve, a facade was demolished
it was never reserved.

The hierarchy of needs seems arbitrary,
the existence itself became absurd
his deeds involved nothing holy,
its just a last flight of a dead bird.


forgive me today, forgive me for the mistakes,
forgive me so i can lay away,
forgive me for it was my mistake,
my existence was a probable disgrace