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A Purple Moon Jun 2019
And as the sun bleeds itself into the sea, we watch its lifegiving light die as it sinks slowly into the endless blue.

Its brightness, which no one dared to look directly into, fades.

Stripped off the glory of shining with its unparalleled grandeur, the sun, sets. Every day.

Nothing lasts forever.
A little pessimistic?
A Purple Moon Jun 2019
On the cusp of extinction.
Surreal dreams, tethered.
Creativity, withered.
Can't fly, so heavy.
Can't think, so clumsy
Can't contemplate, only can process
what we're being fed.
Our minds, concealed.
Can't think, shut up.
And keep running
like a dog playing fetch
or a hamster running
but getting nowhere.
Keep running
from what you've really got.

I miss those days

when I saw a fascinating shine,
even in a mere dime.
Or the beauty in a snake's eyes.
Whole civilizations in the clouds.
Tiny little monsters I used to draw.

Now, my mind is elsewhere,
pretending to be an intellectual,
it wanders from eccentric angles to factorials
and making its way through the Lissajous curves,
makes a perfect robotic locus.


It used to rhyme.
It used to question.
It used to weave poetry.

Now it does none of them.
I wrote this when I was studying for my entrance exams for colleges!
I really felt like I was losing myself.
A Purple Moon Jun 2019
If the sun ever ceases to glow,
I won't care 'cause I'd still have the
glimmer in your eyes.
If apocalypse ever touches the earth,
I won't care 'cause I'd be an explorer of
your terrains.
If the clouds ever refuse to rain,
I won't care 'cause I'd be satiated by
drinking up your pains.
If melancholy reigns over everyone,
I won't care 'cause I'd be happy to feel
the rush in your veins.
If love ever claims to close its reserve,
I won't care 'cause I'd have an infinite
reservoir-your smiles.
I won't care if disaster strikes.
I won't care on failure of science.
As long as you are with me,
I won't care till the end of time.
Miss you, Shirley.
A Purple Moon Feb 2018
A single sniff of the dry snow.
(Before I drift into another plane..)
With sheer precision. Long and slow.
(Help me when I'm still sane!)
P.S. I am not addicted.
A Purple Moon Dec 2017
I have left behind many things
for '17 to take with it.
I'm already. Packed all my belongings!
All? Oh wait! A heart-shaped box.
"Memories of her" it talks.
"Won't you take me with you?
I'll help you be happy
be kind and control yourself. "
I blamed myself for forgetting
such a wonderful possession.
"Why did you forget
Your favorite obsession?
Take me with you.
I will melt your heart
Reshape it
Cast it
And then break it again."
I dropped it at once!
"You don't stand a chance!
I'll make you confident
Motivated and adamant.
But I'll bug you too
Make you lose your focus."
I threw it a corner, ran from it.
And then I stopped.
What was there in that box?
I ran back for it.
Found it lying there.
Opened it.
Maybe that's the reason I forgot it in the first place.
"You came back, see?
You can't live without me.
Will you or Shall I
say Happy New Year to your Queen?"
I know it's not poetry.  Just a wish and a 'reminder' to myself that I can't forget her.
Title inspired by that Nirvana song.
A Purple Moon Oct 2017
To write, I fear
'cause I think it'll make me sad.
To speak, I fear
'cause the criticism hurts so bad.

They call me a rant
stating their ego, stabbing me.
What is that they want?
My knowledge or to be my enemy.

I was strong yesterday,
but today my success is bequeathed.
I am weak today.
My emotions caged. Imagination tethered.

To break, I am ready.
Like a loose invertebrate, I lay.
To die, I am passionate.
But it is adjourned to someday.

They made me run away.
And I feel it easier than to fight.
I can try for a billion billion times.
Would I ever be able to escape this plight?
Life goes on.
A Purple Moon Oct 2017
He stood there staring the red,
red sunset,
and the city with his ocean deep eyes.
The city, to him,
looked like the remnants.
Of an abandoned heart.
And beside, with grace,
Thames teased him, throwing
the sunlight at him.
Dressed in silk, a handsome face.
The kindest one, he stood there with grace.
Stil staring at the city.
"Where are you?", he murmured.
And a teardrop made its way down his face.
He kept staring and waited,
for Her to come.
Now the teardrop sent the sunlight back to Thames.
And thus started the "Quit playing games."
I don't know. The ending seems kinda lame. Doesn't it?
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