Since art can be cynic sometimes
And heart can stop singing rhymes  
On those times
I wish I could start and undo
those memories
And relive them
What can I do?
I fill them with more
Mistakes
Joy
And
Suffering
Vengeance
Against the past self
So dwarf is help
When brain refrain to **** itself
The past is gone
Let's restart

Flowers
how beautiful are they
Each colour
represents an emotion
But blessed is the
Rose
Among them all
is the
Greatest
When given with knee
on the ground
Happiness
When put down
on the ground
with a moist eyes
Condolence
When torn down
petal by petal
Sadness

I am a wave
free
free as freedom
Away
from human boredom
free as a bird
but in a cage
with no bars
Trapped
In this free cage
It is the only place
To rest with freedom
The cage of freedom
with no materialistic
nature
Now I am the
Cage
Because I am
my cage

The moths of light
glittering gold
Untold myths of old
I cold water without sight
Bright sparking,I doubt
Darklings,
without wings for flight
White eyes
blurring,
In thousand cries
Weep upon the dead
Fed their soul,
with gold elixir
After dark light
Immortal soul
Limitless
Always

That frustrating feeling
Like waking up with a
half remembered dream
Scream of your soul
When you do something that
made your heart to rest
Thirst of blood, flowing liquid
beneath your tongue
That lust of doing something wrong
Looking in the mirror knowing
it is not you
Having a clue about something
inside has died
You get the reward.. Still feel
hollow and put it aside
Like that squirrel that forgets the nut
she brought to eat
Tree grows from it but the squirrel
is long dead...

I am the unknown
On a highway searching
Searching for her
Trapped in a dream
Am I
Images of her eyes
Keep flashing
Forever
Half asleep
Half awake
Everlasting pain
Silenced

Two miles away was sun
Wicked
Naked, striped down
In a sea of sweat
Raining
The fire from the sky
Waking
The demons of past
Thanking
The girl in the heart
I felt free at last
The seventh paradise
That hell of  ice
Wicked
Kicked in that hell
Sinking
Deed of life
The boat of the time
Living
I am gonna make it
Family
Baking a cake
Thinking
All things for God's sake
I am gonna make it

Thinking about it, my heart fades
Those evil spirits of smokeless fire still haunt me in my dreams
Still I find they are afraid of me
They only haunt me in my dreams not in the real world
I am important to them all
Because I am the only one they haunt but I don't react back
Now I feel they have become weak
They give me black rubies and silver diamonds in dreams
Beg me to visit an exorcist
But I always gently shook my head and move on
Some of them have fallen love with ruthless death
But they aren't even dying
Their condition is like a flower
Flower which has bloomed but is yet to form a fruit
In rainy days they become sorrowful
In rainy days they don't even look at me
Then I roam the empty dark path which has an exit on other side
From the exit light comes in
I watch it for hours
I see happy people on other side
Children, men and women of all ages
All seem to be very happy
While watching them laugh and play
I get a smile on my face
I gently start creeping to the door
But then I stop and I shook my head, gently
I turn away from that door
Then return to my sorrowful ghosts
Silence

Smoke filled has wings that you can't see,
Inside it are things which one can't be.
Sin eyed are those rings which made those kings,
Though lark sings, his feathers are tin dyed strings.
An aspirin down the throat but body is about to float,
On the life's offshore boat how many souls are gonna float,
I don't wear this high collar coat to stay in the rain and see a lightning bolt.
Those graveyards I visit, strange graves say please sit,
I didn't eat a bit or took a bite after I say that ****** site.
That fight between the thoughts of same brain,
It gave me some sort of migraine.
Does hope has to refrain it must be high on *******.
No lithium in my blood I think I might make a mistake,
As long as people believe in Noah and the flood,
There is gonna be more blood.
Fate has burned me on top of a tesla coil, wrapped inside a tin foil,
And you tell me why does my blood boil.
My hope is no longer a seed spilt on soil.