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Khushi 18h
The month of May — oh, may I say —
Holds an ambiguous kind of sway.
The summer sun can sometimes stay,
Or rain may fall and never stray.

It sounds like fun to bathe in light,
But when the splash hits, takes its flight,
It shifts the mood, no end in sight,
Yet still, we chase the warm delight.

It may be all safe and sound,
But may not always stick around.
You can’t deny the changing tune,
For weather shifts from sun to moon.

So swallow hard and step outside,
Prepare to face the crying sky.
Yet when the rain falls down to play,
Its scent can take you far away.

The feel of drops upon the skin,
To cleanse the sorrow buried within.
The joy of flowers in the showers,
Though May’s soft grace may not be ours.
May teaches us that joy and sorrow often arrive hand in hand. Its skies remind us to embrace change, whether it comes as sunlight or rain .This piece is a reminder that even uncertainty can hold its own kind of grace.
Khushi 18h
Giggle, giggle—swallow beans,
Wash the dishes, clean the bins.
Mutton, fish, curry, and beef,
Taunts, sarcasm, dreams but grief.

Sush! The sound above decibels,
Buzz and roar—what about tinnitus?
Free, independent, no fear of inclusion,
No one to assess—but what about seclusion?

Sadly rich, with burger and fries,
Oh, nobody to deal with—sighs!
And there comes Peppa Pig and Panther,
All by myself to deal with tamper.

End of the day holds no meaning,
Reality, delusion, facts, and healing
This poem blends the mundane with the surreal—chores, food, noise, and cartoons collide with deeper reflections on loneliness, freedom, and the thin line between reality and delusion. It’s both playful and heavy, showing how humor and grief coexist in everyday life.
Khushi 18h
The song I sung has taken a turn ,
what once was evil, now had to burn .
With all the spirit and nature in guide ,
not all is ours, what we provide ,
to free the soul from burden of hell,
and nothing humane-WELL ! WELL! WELL!
The sight and motto to be the "GOOD",
still standing there ,where you once stood ?
Kept the people by your side ?
But nothing's left except that PRIDE .
Insane , how it worked on death ?
Body is freed and the soul at debt .
The chemtrails running white on blue,
has been once me ,now it's you .
Vibrating air and sleeky wind,
couldn't erase what has been sinned.
This poem explores the burden of pride, the cost of sin, and the struggle between redemption and downfall. It reflects on how the soul carries debts even after the body is freed.The references to chemtrails, air, and wind symbolize lingering traces of actions—things we cannot erase, no matter how far we drift. Nature here serves as both witness and guide.

— The End —