If i shall die,
I'll be alive, as never before.
The body,
this world, that i loved
wouldn't mean a thing,
no more.
Embodied in flesh, was i humble slave,
but set free,
I'll be a king,
‎once more.
‎
Words won't upset me
‎as touches cannot reach.
There won't be a need to define ‎the feelings
‎in awkward shapes of speech,
for a time to ‎cater to someone,
‎keeping the promise,
‎trying to please.
‎
Your lovely face will turn into shadow,
‎devoid of features
‎and traces blurred.
I'll soon forget its lines and furrows,
‎that once set me wild,
‎pressed to my lips.
I will miss them soon,
‎but I'll forget.

Scattered to pieces,
I'll invade the existence,
like shards of glass stuck in the teared eyes.
I'll become nothing and everything
that listens
to permeating sound of helpless cries.

Call for me at nights with that silent howl.
Put me in the dreams,
that may come true.
Look through the clouds and rain,
that may follow
for a glimpse of hope,
that I am somehow with you.

I believe a place has a soul
where memories and
feelings are stored.
Either joy of meetings or
breakups' remorse
still resides there
waiting for rebirth.

I am not a poet anymore.
Or have i ever been?
The overflowing shiver,
that ran through my skin
on every flush of whims
seems to really gone till the last bit.
Scenes and sights that stirred me
from deep within
are powerless now,
as if they lost the reason to exist.
Your captivating glance,
the touch of your hands,
even the breath of love from your lips
can't turn the tides
and bring back the dreams.
Form day to day this fever feels foreign to me.
It may be right or wrong,
but seems, that I am not a poet anymore...

Hope is dead,
and it's been for a while.
Only illusion of happiness lurks in the sky.
I dreamt of future, full of joy,
but have to live with what i've got.
Lately, was i hungry for a wise men talk,
collected jewels of human thought,
but now, the years have drained it all
and the gossip of fools is all i want.

A month or two, till now, i hated gnawing sunrays,
rushed to a spot of shade,
waited impatiently for the time to come,
when the cool air would tame the raging sun.
As the summer aproached its end,
i ******* find the fever to hate.
I loathed 'him' much,
but it gives me pain
to see 'his' vigour fade away.
And i can't stand the sight of 'his' draining eyes,
pathetic choking of failing life.

I searched for meaning in worldly pleasures,
in fleeting amusements,
in beauty's eyes,
but every vain attempt left me bewildered and broken,
for the key laid hidden in my mind.

i engaged in love ordeals then wrestled with the sense of loss.
as the earth got burnt by the sun and washed with rains,
so my weary soul faced the trials of light and darkness....