A Path of Conscience
A path to the prime of the primes.
A journey of a disciplined disciple.
Could I ever become a part of you?
For I am out of my line.
The tiniest or the most magnanimous being
Bestow their heads when they see you,
Sitting on your swing,
Waiting to shower your blessings—
To spread the word of the kind.
Love is you; so is war.

Will I be wandering,
Without your message,
If my purpose is resolved—
The one I was a strong believer in?
Or does something yet remain on my part,
To be called, in your terms, a real keeper?

I know not the meaning of the "why,"
An enquiry of aspirant saints,
A quest to be enlightened.
Let me take a breath, a sigh.
All this is above my capable power.
I am fine to be lived by your plan, your desire.

Just one wish that I whispered in your ear:
All I want is to be with you.
May my soul always be with you,
Without any worldly fear.

Let me be today a tattle tale,
Recite to you a story of two innocent males.
Two mature lads with a childlike flick,
Amid all chaos and bubbling pressure.
They went away for the slightest trip to leisure,
Escaping not very far—you can travel there without a car.

Walking zig-zag on a straight, empty road,
Telling stories of their mundane lives.
Thinking what to do to give life, like a kite,
A new height.
Courageous but dumb enough,
Never brave enough to say their hearts out loud.

Galavanting streets but unable to find their own whereabouts,
Funny are their faces, only the moon can see.
Only the silent wind knows their latest tweet.
Ranting over their gibberish snuggles,
They finished their street-brewed coffee.
They wore their noxious snug and said, "Guys, back to work."

Breathtaking or breathless,
Caressing nature binds anything—regardless.
Amazing adventures, astonishing stories;
No one can clamour this glory.

Tiny bug, fearless yet subtle,
Sits on a branch of a hefty tree.
Rocks, flowers, shrubs, and bushes—
Dripping water drops from the petals that swing,
Asking whereabouts of my friend from a 2 A.M. cloud.

"What's up?" will he then ask the stars,
Knowing your story, they know "I am fine" is the most dreadful line.
But in the hope, when the sun goes down, a tale comes up.
With Wind acclaiming this rhyme of all that of yours is all that of mine.
Clinging to the nudge of thy desire.
Like a rain on forest fire

What is the thing that everyone has?
Irrespective of species, it's pain
That everyone has.
"Explain it to me," asked an affirming comrade.
With a grin, I started this story
About two orphan puppies,
Cuter than the most cinematic lovey-dovey,
Brought up by calamities on this rotten street,
Still staying together—barking gangs have their own way of fun.
Only bonds that humans share had names.
Their bond was unnamed—maybe friendship,
Maybe love.

Back to the answer, let's jump the gun.
One dreadful day, there came a dog-catcher's van
That captivated the sweetest of their clan.
The group ran together for kilometers,
Injuring their limbs further to their dismay.
Brutal it was, watching them weep.
Pain transacted with the lost one.

I dreamt of you all my fancy nights
on my face - you keep shutting the door.
Immediately I rushed to the window peeping out
You lushy face, what a sight.
Finding you busy, I talked to your 2 am cloud.
It is not the time, he said,
Making an imaginary pout.
Revert back maybe tomorrow on the same line.
In aghast, I said, "fine."
You worried about rain on forest fire.
What about the storm, I am going through.
Thunderstruck by your desire.
I know your answer could be any back and forth.
But still, I will play this game.
Just listen to me once.
Let my heart say it’s due.
Then it's my neck,
Your claws,your roar.

Assured pat by her on my back
Gives me slumber—the most awaited one for people like us, the young-gen pack.
Chubby cheeks, the ones I playfully wiggle,
Wrinkled yet strong hands, wisdom in her eyes, and a practical head.

She was the forger of the valiant's weapon,
A soothsayer and a storyteller.
From her, stress would always fumble.
She raised me to be the best I could.

I will call her my mother till my last quest,
Yes, I would.

A Gamble of Thoughts
I play with my night,
Over a bankroll of solace.
Betting my daily chaos on the table,
Trying to play with my full aces.

Although that high-roller cloud was over my chases,
Turn by turn, my confused thoughts were bluffed by whimsical reality.
Tear drops fell, not because I was losing my heart,
But for knowing it was a lost game from the start.

So I changed the game, chose wisdom for another round,
Put all my best cards,
Shining with pride,
Believing this time I would flip the game.

To my surprise, Nature had better clarity.
It played with a balanced approach,
And I lost everything on that deck.
Heart and mind both said, "Let’s not gamble again.".