Each time your face
Sparks in my memory,
I am holding my heart
on my sleeve,
But life has a phase
When sweet becomes savory,
And I am too hurt
To receive.

Her poems are sentimental,
Pessimistic, empty of mysticism and sun.
The century of the pity poems is long gone,
Art should be positive and fun.
And anyways, who reads poems nowadays?
We need something positive to read,
Something that does not bleed,
Something commercial,
Art should make hays!
But she still writes.

Some which conquered hardships,
Still live in unrest,
Ignoring all the lights,
When the dark is what they dread.
What’s there they can hope for?
In past, all hopes were crushed,
Spiritless, but so soulful
They live, die, leave a dust.
It might be that a prayer
Can change their pity end,
Help me God, my savior,
Some murmur end bend.
But those conquered with fear
Have fear as only god,
The troublesome affair
With fear is all they got.

A love story that never happened
Like a sad fictional book
Felt fully but never experienced,
The only escape from my apathy,
Crushed on me,
And I am bleeding as a hero of
My pathetic book I managed not to write.

When I feel worthless,
I cannot forgive you inability to see my worth.

At the horizon where skies meet Earth
The mystical nine floors lead to re-birth.
It is a struggle to take a step,
To shift from the earthy to the cosmic map.
I ceased existence in order to live,
And I drew your picture on a Saturday eve.
If you are a dream, you are the fairest of them,
But why do you bleed? Are you hurt as I am?
It rains with star dust to wash away blues,
We gain forever for pieces we lose.
Deeply connected to each other and others
Our father is Sun, Moon is our mother.
You are my passion which brings me up-high,
But are you an illusion? I wonder and sigh.

You are not born
On the luckiest star,
I am your scars.
Wounds won’t heal,
But let us walk up
To the top of this hill.
Hush...

There is no soul
To make you whole,
You feel so small,
But you are so tall.
Hush...

It is your call:
Being weak,
Or strong,
Your decision.
Sing a song...
Look up...
Hush...

Your vision
Is darken
Without love,
life is a puzzle,
you cannot solve.
But
Listen to me,
I am all you got,
We have to find
God.

When two strangers’ eyes meet
Once they pass on a gloomy street:
Was it her? Or was it him?
Light is on, but light is dim.

Was it just a wishful thought?
Just a dream which they have sought,
Hearts in heaven, feet on ground,
Were they lost, or were they found?

We are bound with strings of reason,
Senses, feelings are imprisoned,
We see, but we lost our vision,
Light is dim, but light is on.

When two strangers’ eyes met,
As per social etiquette,
They avoided improper stare:
Was it him? Or was it her?