The soul of a writer is as tormented as the clash of tides in the sea.
There is an ongoing battle between what is right and what is wrong.
The writer's mind experiences an unexplainable turmoil of raging emotions.
There is no escape from the cages that surround the heart except for writing... writing till the words bleed with truth.
Till the colour of the ink becomes the colour of their soul.

And the clouds echoed his name
As they came pouring down in the form of rain.
They dripped down upon her face
And kissed her tears away.

She caught her breath and released a woeful sigh.
As she began to realise..
That even in death, he refuses to let her suffer
And end her life.

Never fall for a damaged person because they'll lure you in. They'll captivate you with their mysterious past.
They'll tell you that they're broken beyond repair and then you'll make every possible effort to prove them wrong.
They'll scream, they'll yell, they'll howl, they'll yelp. . but somehow you'll become the cure for their pain.
You'll fix them up and believe that it's a permanent change. But their demons cannot be suppressed for long.
Their aura will always allure you and you'll end up being the victim.
Intentionally or unintentionally you'll fall in love with someone who feels nothing but numb.
And this vicious cycle will continue.. because now you'll become the broken person and someone else will fall in love with you.

Love is indeed the most tragic form of art.

You are my unfinished poetry.
The only poetry that I refuse to complete.