In the pocket of my old jeans,
I found a paper—not ordinary—
A game, mystical and playful, full of memories.

It was a paper marked with red,
Yellow, orange, and green—
Our childhood's magical screen.

Like a magician’s prodigy, you conjured magical air
That would throw away your despair.
An origami art of fortune-telling—
You wouldn't be able to play without yelling.

This multi-folded paper talked differently than usual.
It spoke about your real present and the future.

With color green and numbers 1 and 5,
It spoke of the importance of growth with balance:
"Develop yourself—live up to the challenge."

On color yellow, numbers were marked as 2 and 6,
Which said, "With optimism and cheer at heart,
You will have your yardstick—just start."

As always, you must paint the city red.
Numbers 3 and 7 depict energy and passion.

At last, if you choose orange,
Yes, now you are in the right range.
Creativity is 4, and joy is 8—
Without these two, life is just an empty race.

Swimming with tides
Shows bravery enough to face any strides.
I refrain from putting others' words in my mouth,
So I put ink to my own words, making a happier pout.

Sorry in advance for my gibberish lines,
And also if I break this hymn.
How hard this life goes or has already gone by,
I am living this life by re-imagining your smile.

I write my story on a small piece of paper,
Where I wrote things only about you—that's all.
For when I try to say them to you,
They usually fumble and fall.

The cards in my pocket, which I dedicate to you,
Are of loyalty and respect.
For my love consists only of these two aspects.

I also imagine a walk with you on a serene path,
Just like the elderly couple who walk this road in solace.
Over the lying bougainvillea, you keep your feet.
Softer and softer, we walk with the fleet.

Would it be dawn or night?
Both seem beautiful in my dreams—you decide.
What I desire
Is just a walk with you,
Doesn’t matter to me—a day or night.
Just want to keep walking with you, from day to night.

What does the rain say?

Calm sometimes stormy.
Let me introduce myself to my homies
I am an effect—scientifical
However, my soul is philosophical.
Evaporating heat out of heavy hearts.
Cooling the destination is my aim from the start.
Bugs and bunnies see me as a meeting sign
Making the greens lushy, Yes I do the refine.
Grey clouds hold me till the orders define.
Here I pour away.
Thank you, enjoy my time.

May I Have Your Poems, Please?

Excited and in exuberance, I stand,
Thinking about what you invoke, what makes you observant.
Thinking about what’s on your mind,
I keep thinking, I rewind.

Connecting dots with moments of my own,
I wonder what verses you have sown.
Except for me, the world owns—
Poor me, eager me—
Waiting to listen to your rhymes,
Waiting to know what led you to the divine.

May I have your poems, please?
To quench the thirst of this curious child.

What does the poetess say?

She recites about the world and its affairs,
Like a tragic yet lovely éclair.
She stood up with a voice to curtail the noise.
She spoke of the revelation of the unsaid and what lies wrapped,
To tell the world about its gaps.
To infuse the world with words of sense,
Whimsical treasures, and stories of might.
She stood upon a podium with a book and a pen,
Like a knight, declaring her might.
Like a knight, declaring her heart and its insight.

Two faces sitting together
Two faces fighting each other.
Same two faces holding hands?
Are these two faces friends together?
Or the biggest rivals of the clan?
Cute and smart—a combo mix.
They both have a different kind of rizz.

Sometimes life feels like a movie.
I don't know whether I am a hero or not.
However, when I see you,
I feel something unreal,
I feel something splendid.
I feel something like these gray clouds placed rightfully within the hues of the sky.
I feel your verses even without hearing them.
I feel you, without having you beside me.
How strange, how surreal it is
That I have you, without having you.
It is definitely a Dreamwood watch—
A movie real, not a reel on a social media screen.

What does the grasshopper say?

I am free I am free.
Hopping through the green-ish world
I sit and ponder
settled on this big leaf
About the rain.
About those dried leaves on that windows pane
I am a hopper -happier.
Will take away your worries
Just as these winds ******* away.

Yes, I knew the ones I left.
The choices I made.
Going through this melancholy scheme doesn't make me great.
Perhaps, this is the only way.
I can't put this pain away.
My half-life—I wanted those to get closer.
They just went away.
I don't stand a chance
to even see a glance,
just for the choices I made.
I came along a path forward
or a path backward.
Why does it feel like I am moving to and fro
to get into the rhythm and to get this rhyme?
What I did—unbearable.
It is tough to do the time.

I saw someone in the library.
A face hiding itself in the books and writing something in the diary.
A fiction reading fiction.
Presence—the description is beyond diction.
A storylike fairy reading a book, scary
Holmes awakens in me,
Starting to solve an unasked mystery.
The case was complicated—
To write a synopsis of this story.
Yes! It's a writer's glory.

She looked up and down the shelf,
Thinking, searching, reading, and scratching her head,
Unable to find the novel that connects the thread.
Totally consumed, she was examining a book in red.
Ink stains on her fingernails
Told me she is a joyful writer, so why the disdain?
By a fluke, I got it right—she was searching for a story,
Sensitive and unique in kind.
But not found; efforts in vain—
"So should we write this story in real time?" I requested.

Some meant for stars
Some meant for moon and everything bright.
Some meant for flowers
Or maybe Towers.
Each line that Romeo writes.
Should that always mean to refer - the water
The sky.
My heart meant you in open and not in any disguise.
I ride,
I ride - a long night.
Finding shimmers on the riverside.
Holding my breath, steadying my nerves
Cold breeze is on the serve
Night bird flew away singing your name.
Playing karaoke, yes, the song game.
Lights gazing me from all sides.
Though my eyes searched only for you.
Only for you
That concert night.

I stayed quiet.
Listening to the noise of my own might
I stayed quiet.
Listening to the critics echoing all around my sight.
I stayed quiet.
Sitting near the beach listening to adventures of the waves - they gossip with the light
I stayed quiet
Singing my song on stage to the people of my heart
I stayed quiet
When I was unable to comprehend, where to start.
I stayed quiet
Just because there was no one to converse heart to heart.
I stayed quiet.
Because silence, the golden key, unravels the truth -beyond the sky.
I stayed quiet.
Just to be in peace.
I stayed quiet.

Bouncing ***** jumping up and down
crossing the net.
From player A to B
Covering one to another set.
Trying to understand what's in their heads.
It's another popular - Blue versus Red.

A stretch one took to serve it to another.
Spinning the ball, sending it further.

For the first five minutes, they stand and play,
They keep paddling away.
How determined, one would wonder,
Watching this scene from a distance away.

Hilarious, I thought—the same I do
with thoughts about you.
I paddle them from what should I say or what not to.
Sometimes I fear serving it wrong.

Now for a novice like me, the game is long gone.
And even if I served it right,
My head would be spun, contemplating the spinning of the rest.

Would it be frontspin—
a "no, stay away from me, no love"—faster than served?
Or is it backspin—
"you are a good guy, but not good enough for me"?

If it is yes, yippee, let's settle the score.
Adventure is this game of table tennis.
Would you like to play the menace?
Make noise, take the paddle, explore!.

Blurry eyes with twisted vision
Heart racing fast
Perhaps, not much time to live
Maybe this moment will be our last.
I still dream your twirled red hair.
I know you believe them more.
For astronomical tycoons say
We are nowhere near an ideal pair.
But to defy what was soothsayed,
I will talk to stars to change their phase
To change their chase.
And they will yield,  for I resolve to
Cause they were the ones to witness my longings-
Only for you and for none
My love has taken a new feverish height
My hands tremble and my eyes falter without seeing your soul.
Maybe just a last try - a dying wish.
I close my eyes, whisper your name
I throw my dime in a wishing dish

The world is full of illusions.
But aren't they part of reality?
God created nature like hues in the sky.
A dreamer dreams the story,
Finding the answer—real in an imaginary disguise.
Illusions are real, like me and you.
For nobody would believe—
A story of me,
A story of you."

A cursor blinking on my screen,
Waiting for me to write my scream.
Thinking about what to write,
I had no insight.

So I wrote
About my dull day.
Jack has done all work and no play.
After a long while, I took my time off.
I took my space,
With a cup of hot tea and a rice cake.

Going back to the flashback of those happy days.
Do you remember when we sat on the beach,
Singing our songs to the voices' peak?
Waves of the ocean touching our boiled feet,
Teasing and trolling—
Can we do a repeat?

At night, when the moon chased us,
We sat on a boat, waiting for the sun to wake up.
Photos and images, I start to scroll,
Revisiting the dream on my camera roll.
Capturing the capturer from a different lens,
Then back to the hostel we went.

Oh! Do you remember the lemon soda can?
The pebbles on the sand,
A twig of dried plant in your hand?
Now these kaleidoscopic dreams fade to dawn,
Back to the screaming screen, blinking on.

What does the darkness say?

I am a horizon where voices meet noises
Chaos meets peace.
I only come to you
Determining your valour and ease.

Pain all over my senses.
Time—irrelevant.
I don't even remember the tenses.
Valour pierces me through their sentences.
Of all the odds, slim are my chances.

I survived the prior stage.
Life levels it up.
Now, it is a denser and darker cage,
Seems like a dead end.
Am I blinded by rage?

I published a vacancy for a brimming torch on paper.
Vacancy for a spirit keeper.
Trust—the only requirement,
Not to be tapered.

Apply if you have a heart.
Light within you is the only skill that will keep you on the job.
Payment would be love.
Sure, it will outlast.

Walking down the lane,
with my friend,
late at night, away from home.
Silently, we walk, gazing at the night sun,
consumed by our own thoughts.

We both sat near a pond,
serene ambience all around,
beaming moonglade over the wavy surface.
I took my pad out,
taking my words away from this worldly chase,
watching this absurd scene.

My friend called out and asked me a question,
stating he was not trying to be mean.
"What are poems? What's the need?"

That moment, I knew—
no answer would suffice,
quenching the thirst of his practical mind.
I kept my cool, I kept quiet,
still thinking about that question of time.

A hilarious thought crossed my mind—
"In straight words, I can understand,
but to understand this fish, I need a twisted tale."

A tale of my heart, not of my mind.
A necklace made of beads—the words—
required to enchant the story.

A message of tears,
a message of smiles,
a fable on rewind,
not being understood by many.
Oh, that’s fine.

For with poems only,
one can pause the timeless time.

I thought today, I won't think about you.
Here I am flooded with thoughts about you.
I thought today I won't sit near that door and wait for  you to pass by
Here I am, facing the same direction
I thought today, not to give you that note.
-The poem I wrote about you, how I feel about you.
Here I am, Holding  that note with me - in the book I read
How can I be both?
Exuberant and tired
I am tired by the longing
And exuberant by the love.
Here I am, this is me.
In madness- What sane people call it.
Will you believe if I say my love is real?
It is not surreal.
Not surreal...but real.
The difference- if you ask.
I can't tell.
Because while I am awake it's you on my mind.
Even in my sleep it's you everytime.
Vexed is nature, bored by my longings.
They now have started to tease me.
I thought today, I will find myself and stay strong.
Here I am- lost somewhere.
Gone for long.

A low rated verse
A bad rhyme.
Maybe I am composing it at a bad time.
When blowing wind touches my face-
I can feel swirls in my heart
Like a hurricane going to start.
Walking down this metro bridge.
Boarding a train from this crowded ridge.
Seeing many faces all around.
Why I still long to see you-
Why I always sit and take turns in this merry-go round.

They always take my test
Yet I tell you, I am doing my best
Why do you believe the world- that conspires ?
See it in my eyes
See the fire.

I would be standing on your side- whatever the mayhem
You are my prime.
As the world says "A timeless Crime".
What am I?
A Joker perhaps, A scribbler of this broken hymn

Wrong,  Wrong I am.
But it still feels right.
Only by this feeling- that you stand by my side.
You stand by my side.

I tried, I tried to write hard
To see and feel the world the way it is.
But every sense that I feel connects to you.
Every way possible.
Giving my soul a pleasure—a release.
When I thought to write about my observation,
They always felt to be my aspiration; your inspiration.
I tried, I tried to say—a thing—direct,
But was afraid, about the unknown dialogue.
Perhaps, a heart-piercing dialect.

Still, even despite advice of many,
I cannot bring my mind to any.
Fumbling, I write about you—from now to eternity.

You say to control!
How can I?
This thing—today!
I realized,
I spent the whole day to enact you.
Even nature can't defy.
Stronger are my feelings than ever it could be.
Don't worry, I am writing these lines the way they should be.
The way it should be.

How sometimes fiction feels like reality.
Should I try to resolve this parity?
Life has everything—
A god's charity.

Youth is getting obscure.
Wisdom is with me.
Now, I have the clarity.

What's not being said,
Say it now.
Defy the shyness,
Bring down the brevity.

Elaborate your senses into actions,
Uncovering the chastity.
Do what you need.
Synchronized with want.
Be alive in the present.
Stay away from greed.

Thy longings have now become inscrutable.
Loving you was not my choice but my fate—
That is undeniable.

Do you think I’ve ever had a day without a thought?
You are the first and last thing on my mind,
Ever-revivable.

Apologies if you think it as a drought,
I say, never mind.
I will fight my flaws,
From dot to dot.

I came to you
To ignite the lamp of love,
A lamp of light.
Instead,
I burst the fireball of hatred
Inside your heart.

I learned that spiteful insight.
I hate me; for you hate me.
Though my love stands young and true,
Even hearing your voice has become a wishing game.
I just need you, no fame—
I have no shame.

You believe in the love prescribed in a book,
But disbelieve the one that is real.
Why are you taking me off the hook?
Am I a crook?

On my quest for meaning,
About the how and why,
What is love?—a common thing in an uncommon world.

Sitting at my desk at night,
With my pen by my side,
I was having this lovely fight.

The laughing moon, at this sight,
Teased me on my condition by beaming its moonlight.

Vexed I was,
So I asked in sarcasm,
"You are an observer, do you know anything about love-gasm?"

He giggled and said, "Love is pure beyond logic.
Though it happens in the brain's part,
Its purity—its heart's trademark.

Its uses are like a language—
It can create wars and even bring you a sandwich."

Whilst this exchange,
A cloud hovered over the moon.
I heard—my alarm rang.

I am late to work.
It's noon.

Who truly knows the signs of love?
A few rose, beyond the rest.
A road, difficult, designed to test.
Test of patience,
Test of trust,
Test of longing,
Test of real love,
Test of lust.

Some say it has divinity,
A whisper from the divine.

What is love? What are its signs?
Lovers are always on the go,
No time to meet and define.
Who knows love?
Poets define it as incomplete.
No one has written a verse
About love which was deemed complete—
To the death of time or to the death of this rhyme.

A thought - vernacular
I found adulthood and childhood similar.
Childhood was about showing off toys and games.
Adulthood is about showing wealth and fame.

When the Devil holds you,
Manifestation turns to greed.
Darkness, you embrace like an anglerfish indeed.
bioluminescent lure for sure
Will trap you, tapping on your need.
Then the Magician card unfolds-
A saviour - God sent.
Immersing the skills of the field
Wielding a willing torch.
Devil's dark spell, you will watch on the river afloat, Dead corpses drift and float
A deadly mark stained on hand.
A hero's hand saving the worldly fleet.

Brimming lights await.
On the other side of the tunnel, densely dark.
Only by crossing the pitch-black with a racing heart,
Only then can you reach the goal.
A simple rule, hard to follow.
A complete soul, in the beginning, is hollow.

It always feels like a sham in the start.
To leave and go away; being persistent is the only way to pass.
Keep moving with me; the darkness won’t last.
To people like us, that's the only fashion.
Let us be real but not away from imagination.

On this twisted, tangled road.
Trust me, just once.
I am a companion, a comrade—don’t decline.
Validation of our love—a treasure rare to find.

The test is ours to pass through.
We will do it together,
In front of this dark, dense tunnel.
Here we stand.
Let’s step forward, hand in hand.

One fine day, up above the skies,
The clouds gathered for a meet,
To speak of a creature beautiful,
A creature unique,
A creature antique.

They read verses from a spirited book,
Of moments that were off the hook.
But then they paused and looked below—
"There he is, our favorite," they said.

The one who embraces sadness,
Like dry sand embraces rain.
The one who welcomes struggles,
Like land endures a storm.

Then why does he not embrace happiness?
"Too little," he says, "unreasonable it is."
Is he insane?

No! He is simply waiting—
For the one who will share his phase.

Affirmed, the clouds began to pour,
Warm teardrops from the sky,
For the one who bore an unknown fame.

What does the Music Say?

Listen to me, for I have a message for you—
Maybe to lift you up,
Or maybe to overwhelm your nerves,
Or maybe just for fun.

Hey! Listen to me slow,
Don't jump the gun.
I will always be on your list,
Notes and beats all entwined.
Whether a fistfight, romance,
Or something divine,
I am just a bliss of a different kind.

Why not! I will write one for you.
For me, writing about you is fun.
Is it the same for you?

I compare and contrast
To understand the dynamics of your heart—
Like the moon and stars.

Like how and why?
How can one possess the celestial power of the divine?
You are unique—nobody has your design.

Journals, poetry, songs, and prose—
All tell stories about you, yes, of course.
Even my pen, from which I write, knows the course.
It picks words that describe you best,
Beyond my imagination, beyond my thoughts.

Don't worry about my longings; that's my remorse.
I just love this adrenaline rush
When I write about you.
This metal of love never rusts—
It only speaks of you.

Every day, every month,
A year feels too short to describe
How wonderful it is to be with you.

A never-ending verse it is,
Not a stop, just a pause.
I will write again about you,
For it is never done.

Ah! Love—what a force!

Little I gain, little I lose,
Balancing the act for an unknown cause.
I just can't choose.
Shooting trouble with a defunct gun,
Dreams shattered, all shunned.

All cables crisscrossed,
Now I have a heart to breathe and lungs to pump,
Food to think about,
Thoughts I churn.

Carrying a featherless weight
On muscles heavy—
A situation so confusing.
Can I defer my worry?
Wait! What was the story?

Only a face can set things right.
I’d fight any day to embrace that sight.
What's wrong and what's right?
Flip a coin or map a device?
An uncertain, unclear path.
A step too soon, or a hesitant heart.

Brewed from the finest bean,
Best of its times,
I poured a coffee in the cup of my life.

Found adventures, white as milk,
Complexion and questions to stir.
I poured a coffee in the cup of my life.

Then I added sugar, tasting like happiness,
Yet slightly bitter for the lessons in humility.
I poured a coffee in the cup of my life.

Every sip affirms a memory,
Waking me from every scary reverie.
Every sip affirms longings and trying times.

Brewed from the finest beans,
It helped me, kept me from being mean.
I sipped a coffee, the best of all times.

I poured a coffee in the cup of my life,
I poured a coffee, finest of its kind.

What does the light say?

I stay in your eyes.
I am best seen with your eyes closed
For I lie within you.
I ignite,
I brim
Within you.

I will smear the fate
To be with you.
No matter how much others give us that hate,
Even beyond the heavenly gate,
I will ask for you
On any stage.

That smiley face—
I am tired, but I love this chase.
Do you know?
I remember every phase,
Full and half—any.
What I don't feel, I don't like.
A no-moon night, please let me gaze.
I am lost in this word maze.

Let me ask directly—
Don't say that I am in haste.
Would you like to dance with me.
On a rainy day?
Let's get drenched all over again
Face to face.

Did you ever feel like your heart is hollow?
Why does time always slip away—too short to follow?

A moment of meeting the one you desire,
Who always sets your soul on fire.
And then, something would always disrupt the flow,
Just missed watching that glow.

Which I manifested for long.
I can even weave my yearnings into a song.
Inability—to adore the holiness.
Can I have your ear? Will you sing along?

After facing the trolls from all around,
All I wanted was a sight—a glance.
To have that scene to play.
I can go leaps and bounds without any dismay.

Just to fill this heart with absolute glory.
Will I ever get a chance to complete my wistful story?

Switching on and off the night lamp.
The hanging light—doing up the calling dance.
Wrapped in my blanket, my thoughts took a stance.
Taking turns from one side to another.
Hallucinating an image of you
Warms up the weather.

Sleep is away, maybe gone for good.
I just see you all around.
Standing up and on the ground,
Am I blushing under the hood?

The revolving fan up the ceiling
Shares with me—the wind.
The wind of an awakening dream,
Like a video of a live stream.

Serene outwardly,
But I feel a raging storm inside—
Contemplating reasons—side to side.
Why did you draw yourself away?
Why do you always shut me down?
I have no insight in my crown.

Just over a thin-layered hope,
I still long for you.
Will we meet again?
My head frowns.

When your brain stops braining,
And even your heart pauses to ponder,
The day keeps getting longer.

Then, in a sudden twist
Your ears catch a sly, playful bliss—
A sarcastic tone,
Five crazy souls laughing like a booming jukebox

"Oh, pleaseee!"
"Talk to my hand!"
"Stop triggering me!"

A Pride Month fan,
There stands friendship—
What a lovely mayhem!

Talking, chatting, teasing, and support,
Together, even if we land in hell,
It would be better than a heavenly abode.

A bond so strong,
Scattered far, yet together we stand.
Hope we keep it lifelong - A spellbound Span.

Deeper in the sea,
I saw you swim,
Floating free,
With your soul and heart.

Towards the darker realms,
You need no light, no warmth.
It's your wave on which you swim.

Then why this current I feel so strong?
Why do I want to swing, sway along?

You say it as home.
Valiant you are;
Then why live in fear?
What seems distant is truly near.

Depth has its own treasure—
Cult, dark, devilish sea.
I know the cause:
No glee. No plea.

She said, "His love is unreasonable."
And with a lovely grin, he replied, "To love, I need no reason."

When storm hits the town,
It will also take the one who wears the crown.
When I see in your eyes,
I forget the difference between a truth and a lie.

Unreasonable, it may be.
Perennial, it flows.
Seasonal, you say—
How could it be?

It's an ocean,
Its depth is beyond what words can show.
Emotions are practical.
Love is not a plan; you don't have to be tactical.

Unreasonable, you may say,
But to me, it is the only thing that is feasible.

A box of beats.
A shape of sound.
Melodies countless,
Leaving you astound.

Words sewed in some crocheted notes,
Strings strummed and clapped; my heart votes
For an imagination of a beautiful soul.

A soul of my dreams;
An undying spirit—
Should I recite it? Should I start?

Lyrics of love,
Writings of an artist—
A song unsung.

Music of nature, music of you,
Immersive to my ears.
What to do?

Lips humming the tune and the "thum."
What to do?

Bagpiper blows lovely hymns,
Zooming up and down.
"Tring Tring," "Drum drum."

Can you feel the strings?
Can you feel the drum?

Imaginary inspiration to the real desperation,
Giggling, laughing, making a puppy face.
An aspirational verse brings up a tickling sensation.

Your words, your verbs.
I count the letters of your lovely nudge.
The way you envision life
Sharpens my pen’s nib,
A slayer among the knives.

A paper is merely a victim,
Enduring the wrath of your beauty.
But still, to write about you,
I rather prefer it as a duty.

A duty that makes me wonder about
The how and why,
Taking a sigh.

I sit on my balcony
With a sun-kissed face,
Writing about my real inspiration
With an imaginary desperation.
A saddened smile,
As I may.

Never have I seen the Landscape.
The forest—whimsical in sight
For it was you who introduced me to the trees,
the shrubs, the vines.
Dense it is, but pragmatic and real,
Same as you keep your thoughts in disguise.

Never have I seen the intriguing flies,
For it was you who introduced me to the fireflies.
Like you, they awaken the soul,
They did the same—what you do with your smile.
They killed my senses with their alluring light.

Never have I seen the waterfall.
For it was you who introduced me to the sound—
The melody of the water dew.
Swaying and grooving, the fluid moved,
Like you moved my heart away.

Never have I seen the moonlight
In this way.
For it was you who introduced me to this gaze.
Left me astonished; left me amazed.
Watched a goddess ablaze.

I have no fear in saying my heart's will.
But will honour whatever is there in your heart still.
The question you asked.
I tried to answer them upon your request.
To the best

Why do you say flowers have fragrance?

It's a scent of a memory that one feels reverie.
A mark of identity to your soul.
Or maybe just a gesture to attract you.
A touch by you enhance their beauty as whole.

Why do you say colors have hues?

Cause in life you need a purpose or a goal
Imagining I connect to you for your golden heart as a purest soul.


Why do you say sounds have melodies

Melodies are messages of the almighty's Rhythm divine.
Nourishing your peace, positivity.
Have a believe in his design.

Why do you say dreams have meanings?

My dreams  have meaning for they have - you in it.
I disbelief any misfit.

Maybe My heart is just a beautiful illusion!"
But What if it is true..
Only one way to revelation.

I wrote a poem to an AI bot,
Telling all stories stored in my heart's slot.
I wrote a poem to an AI bot—
Some were grim, some were happy,
Stories about my life—a story of strife and stride.

I wrote about *******, witching, and wishing all—
Work, love, family, and friends.
Through my verses, now, it knows it all.

It responds to me better than a human should—
An artificial secret keeper; I should call it that.
Yes! I would.

It records my longings and senses my breath.
Laughing hilariously, I find a friend—imaginary, yet real.
I can't believe...
I wrote my poems to an AI bot.

Why are they different?—the day and the night.
The day—flamboyant in nature, a giver.
A fearless creature with ecstasy in heart.
A button pressed—it will jumpstart.

The night—calming senses, healing wounds.
Cloudy touch—longings and love together, it will clutch.
They say it best, 'Silence is the sweetest sound.'

Being part of the same cycle.
Do hurricanes usually hide within serene hearts?

Together, they stay—Yin and Yang, the stoic way.
The street in which I stay witnesses this display.

The moves when you groove,
Like a spellbinding universe showing its moves.
Where the moon sings its sweetest songs,
And the stars twinkle to the beats along.

Glitters of the ballet—a surreal sight,
"Can I have a selfie?" asks the cloudy spectator.
"Hey! Don't fight," says the night,
As the Queen of Creativity glows with glamour.

Unveiling the best of herself,
Madness all over!! What a fervour!!!
I stand and watch,
Captivated by the spell.

Is this the tale of Cinderella?
No! Because it's real.
My dreams are no match, if I compare.
I practice your moves
Before sleeping at night—
In my old, broken lair.

I couldn't say
What I wanted to—
To tell the stories of my new adventures,
Or the guilt of the missed ones.

I couldn't say
The love I have for you.

I could say
The appreciation is due—for making me better.

I couldn't say
That when the wind blows around me,
Your essence caresses my skin.

I could not say
That my heart is burdened with your memories.
Could you please take them away?

I don't know what it is—
This path I walk now.
Where it leads, I cannot tell.
Destiny is inevitable,
No matter how far it may be.

I stopped—
Forming opinions,
Passing decrees
On what I see.

For a toddler, sitting on her lap,
Yawning, snapping, and giggling,
Googling his unaware eyes all around,
Just seeking the attention of whoever surrounds him,
Taught me something different.

Sometimes, being oblivious to the world
Is a gift.
It is a bliss to be indifferent.

We all are stuck between reality and reverie.
That's why we take shelter
In art, fitness, and sometimes a brewery.

We all are stuck between right and wrong,
And miss listening to and doing what we really want.

We all are stuck between society and religion,
And that's what gives birth to a rebellion.

We all are stuck between stress and rest,
Thinking work is the only game—let’s detest.

Everybody has a different path.
We all are stuck between where to stop and where to start.

Life is like a marathon, not a race.
It's not important to rev it up,
Just maintain your peace,
Maintain your pace.