Ashes underlined in my heart,
For a bittersweet reason—
A bitter grief and a sweeter lesson.
Burning wood, catalyzed by purified butter,
A falcon set free from its worn-out armour.
Yes! Its rhymes are clever,
Stating these lines, the saint's spirit departs.

"More than the presence, one's essence matters," he indicates.
"My dear disciple, spread this in the syndicate.
Spread this in the syndicate."

Syndicate of people,
Syndicate of purpose,
Syndicate of love.

All is one, and that is the cult.
The crime would be—to hold on.
Let the bird of time fly
Taking his last breath
He finished this rhyme.

Strange humour my Lord has.
Before giving me my life’s biggest grief,
He gave me a hilarious belief.
He made me wonder about life,
Like a squirrel grabbing a nut with her tiny fingers.
Life is anything beautiful, and for it,
Every species lingers.

I went to tell the stories of worldly adventure
To my beloved,
Who usually stayed on the bed.
Gets overwhelmed seeing the world through my eyes.
I loved my routine, felt nothing could be better than this.
I felt my beloved would stay,
The only one I believed would remain when anyone else could go.
Thy presence, I thought, would be forever present.

The Lord found that maybe I was not a good storyteller.
That’s why He took away my beloved,
To recite His best seller.
This is how humour turned to grief.
Shattered, here I stand with my story incomplete.

Who said angels don't dwell on earth?
I just found five of them:
One for the laugh,
One for the love,
One for the sadness,
One for the truth,
One for everything above.

I want to have them, Lord, please cut down the chase—
The chase of longings,
The chase of memories,
The chase of beauty,
The chase for peace.

For those angels and I share the same thirst.
Quench this thirst; show your image to us.

Finding happiness was difficult.
Sadness was easy; it was everywhere.
And so, I learned to be joyous with it."

So? Is it the question, or the answer to a puzzled rant?
So? Is it the beginning, or just an end?
So? Is it a grim gaze, or a friendly withstand?
So? Is it a careless whisper, or a well-thought word?
So? Is it impromptu, or something well-rehearsed?
So? Is it for the show, or just redacting the old?
So? Just an expression—should I laugh it out,
Or make a sad face with a lingering pout?

Wherever I go, they make me feel
What I am—just a tag along.
Tried to move into her heart,
But I can't be there.

I am not family, maybe just a sidelined friend,
And would be remembered only in the end,
Because I am just a tag along.

Is there a need for a wall?
Am I so scary? You taking your eyes off me makes my heart weary.

Gloomy I feel, just to be a tag along.
I came to your life to share everything,
Not just to be a tag along.
But I can stay—just listen to my growl.

Bear angel's faith—
I will not be like them, who left you shattered.
They are long gone.

I will stay with you till my soul rumbles.
Whenever I think of you and me,
Stumbled feet become straight.
If I can be yours, that would be great.

You are my cause, and you are my purpose.
Don't treat me like a joker of a circus.


Don't treat me like a joker of a circus .

Endless things to do,
But her thoughts I cannot confine.
They are open and free,
Like a whirly wind, do not know any bound or reach.
Real but imagined,
Shining like a classy rim of a motored wagon.

I can compare her with any long and stout,
Anything beauty.
By seeing her, my heart starts to fly like a cloud.
Just me—he is impatient, but I am at rest,
Asking, "Do not go without me; stay in my chest.

For I don't have her.
If I lose you, how will I live?
Don't tell me somehow!
Until her soul accepts me as a slave,
You will not go away from my conclave."

Is it real or a dream?
Don't answer that.
Love is beautiful.
Be cautious—it will tear, making a sack.