Focused ahead
My view isn’t rear
In my own lane
Hitting the top gear
Widows rolled all the way up
What these bystanders talk?
I don’t hear
Hands on the wheel
I am ready to steer

Worldly opinions aren’t my concern
My stories cause lives to burn
No flowers but thorns
like the asparagus fern

If food is loyalty
then I believe world is fasting
If life is ***
then my enemies aren’t long-lasting
I can see through their lies
They don’t stand my sight
like a deer in the headlights

I am going through phases
like the gibbous moon
Hanging low at six
Overhead at nine
I am rising and shining
With the changing times!

The tear drops of rain,
Sleeping over my windowpane,
A soul above must be in pain,
A memory trapped in a frame,
Lighting and thunder in the sky,
He must be feeling restless,
Because feelings don’t die,
The clouds are grey and dark,
While I hear the skylark,
Singing a dirge for him,
The sun too looked dim,
I was chilled by the sudden storm,
Couldn’t make out what was wrong,
It looked as if I was inside someone,
An abandoned land with no one,
Saw the old stains on the glass,
It must be his dead past.

Hot winds caused the charming petals to wilt,
Withered leaves slept under the dew quilt,
The sky looked red and fawn,
Rays of sorrow broke the dawn,
Icicles of trust started to melt,
Roses of love resembled a welt,
Cerulean oceans of wisdom turned black,
Light sleepers don’t like the busy track,
Life goes through phases like the moon,
Sky belongs to those who break the cocoon,
Graves have no room for grudges or vengeance,
Have no ill-feelings or hate, but only reverence.