As I am done with another poem,
I put my pen’s tip to rest
on the white chest of my paper,
and look at the clock
that runs from its own shadows
and chases its own reflection,
While it reaches the unanticipated.

Terrified, I close my eyes
and think of a moment
when the close does not matter,
when it grows so tired of running and chasing itself
that it stops.

Now as the clock has been silenced
And I can no more hear it shrieking,
I hear her voice.

Her voice, calling my name
like a leaf gently lying on a pond surface
that had been mute for too long.

Her lullaby, ringing like a wind charm
that has been touched by a raindrop,
makes me sleep in my thoughts.

Her hands, holding me into her arms
like the sunlight embraced tightly by
a droughted land.

Her fingers, feeding me food of thought
like a drop of ink that falls the pen
and fills the paper.

Her eyes, looking at me with love
like mine looking at the clock
that has stopped moving while
my pen at rest has not.

Her smile, that she throws at me
like the dandelion which throws
her children away to be free,

Her tears, that slide down
From her eyes to her lips
like the rocks on the mountains
that cause avalanche.

Her food, that she cooks
While she burns in and out
like the cells of the body that
die out quickly
for the new ones to be born.

Her stories, that she teaches me about
the world around
like the wind that whistles to the
water that never stops flowing.

Her lessons, that she wants me
to learn and remember
like a book that turns to the right page
with every command the wind makes.

Her love, that keeps me alive while
she is dead,
like the earth that gives birth
to her new ones from the womb
she no longer owns.

I think of her as I realize
How the clock has paused
I now know, she and her thoughts
stop time.
My mother, stops time.

So, I lift up my empty pen
from the ‘just blue turned’ chest of my paper
and look at the clock
that is again chasing its own shadows
and running from its own reflection.
I am done with another poem.

The sun burns brighter today.
I think another poem for the moon is completed.

But then, how do I express all my emotions in
one poem...

The turmoil of emotions
Is taking over me,
I guess again your words
Are winning over me,
Those bars of love,
I'm caged behind them
I won't survive anymore
And now it's time to end.
I've seen my lost soul cries in a corner
And now it's time for me say goodbye
Everything you did is taking over me.
Now you are winning over me.

That is what makes legends interesting,
They either tell good stories
Or hear good histories.

I've never tasted death
better than today,
And I never want to taste it again
after today.

Her effervescent soul was searching for a nonchalant voice to speak for her,
Dwindling the songs she's never heard before,
Wishing upon the stars to be independent from her own barriers.
She was rising from the flames of the fury that burned inside her.
Strong she was, she wanted to show.
Fearless ahead she wanted to go.
A place for herself she wanted in this world,
An abode where the sun would never set and the stars would never go.
She was just another woman fighting for her rights, believing she'll get them someday.

I've been thinking for a while
And now I guess I know,

I want to be your smile,
I want to be your smile so bright.
I want to be your smile like the flowers in the day.
I want to be your smile that's all I pray.
I want to be your smile that you keep up always.
I want to be your smile that's all my heart says.
I want to be your smile like the tulips white.
I want to be your smile like the crescent moon at midnight.
I want to be your smile divine, like the gods above.
I want to be your smile like your tender words of love.
I want to you be your smile with every rhyme.
I want to be your smile, every time
You smile.

Surreal, an Empty chasm.
Darkness with light.
Lighted darkness,
surrounds me.
Devours my skin.
Floating void, uneasy and inescapable.
Voiceless and soundless it seems.
In this known unknown,
Twinklers read the Prophecy.
I am birthed,
source unknown.
Visible, can be seen,
source unknown.
Light up, gleam but not twinkle,
source unknown.
I shall die, conspired by the unknown.
Born again by the unknown.
Untrodden words, silence me.
When Sapiens shall come alive out of
death, disparity, dreams and desolation;
shall I be assassinated in the hands of the unknown.
Infuriated, insulted and inspired;
I behold my Katana and behead.
Falling, drowning, draining in the inescapable.
After every 29 Deathly hollows,
I die, I ****.

Only if there are flowers on the other side,
I would cross the bay.
Only if there is a moon at night,
I would bear the sun during the day.
Only if I could get love in return,
I would live in agony and vain.
Only if I could live once again,
I wouldn't mind dying now.
Only if I could hide my tears,
I wouldn't fear to face the world.
Only if I could see you again,
I won't fear our separation.
And only if I could be myself,
I wouldn't regret my life as much.

"Gain some weight you will look pretty"
They told
"That's a well-maintained body"
She laughed off

I saw her eyes, pure and white
I never saw her face because she warned I might go blind.
I never saw her smile, not even once in a lifetime.
She warned me not to go near earthlings
For people, as far as she told, hated us.
I didn't know why,
My mother and me were detested so much.
Maybe because we were rich, for we could take anything we wanted.
Humans, she told would avoid and fear our arrival.
Why did their lips never formed curves to welcome us,
I wondered.
'Oh!' They say,
'Death brings misery with herself'
But of course, a mother would take her child with herself,
wherever she goes.