Engraving each memory on a grain of sand
I captured time, for infinity, in a bottle
With tired eyes I sit there and mull
turning it around, over and over.

Will the sand ever pave the way forward?
Or will it cut deeper and deeper?
The grains may beckon over their own kind
wading through time, eroding like a river.

Perhaps there was a start to this all
A cold, unmelting person, thawing
as the lands shaped them, the scenery changed
but the river of memories just kept flowing.

It never makes it to the sea, oh no
never to float away, or to discover paradise
reaching the end only to turn back
oh, I've captured the sands of time.

The memories now all fade into one
of reliving each moment, the joy and the agony
the cascading grains all sing the same song
of the life I've lived, quite a symphony.


The glass is full, there's no more space
the fields passing by were never meant to last
a new course to be charted, to discover, to seek
to fill and measure with a new hourglass.

The lights were artificial

the room was yet alive

it was cold, though the window was closed

the wind blowing outside mercilessly cried.



His memories lay garbled

as for misery, there was none

he had no company for a long time

and with despair he was done.



The familiarity of others had worn off

the extrovert had died along the way

his conscience seemed to fade and fade

till it was just a stream in his wake.



Running away from what he didn't know

laying waste, everything left was broke

it caught up to him, it was so slow

he found a friend in that haze of smoke.



Days started to pass by ever so fast

the window remained closed for good

the wind beat down at it every night

unhampered by it all, he stood.



Looking around in that pale light

the warmth had left him a long time ago

smiling at his own ****** plight

his friendship with loneliness began to grow.



Deeper and deeper he went into it

till there was nothing, not even light

he had burned his cigarette, blown smoke in the air

he battled with life and had won that fight.

In the cold morning of tomorrow
You will see him running
The world would sleep as he speeds up
The hands of the clock would stop turning.

Today we shall sit and wonder together
Why the man would run so fast
As our lives come to a complete rest
The running man goes back to the past.

He would run from his problems
He would run from the strife
He would run with all his strength
From the man who wielded the knife.

As he neared the end of his journey
Reaching the time he wanted to go back to
His past collided with him again
His future was split right in two.

The man he wanted to save was gone
He was in his past all by himself
His self destruction had caught up with him
He realized he can't save people from themselves.

The crumpled memories lay
in the fractures of time
The smoke stayed inside him
His body just begging it to be kind.

Another drag and I'll be the king
The lies he told himself were true
Smirking, he downed another drink
Reality faded while his dreams grew

Waking up with an ache in his heart
He thought what he lacked was love
Filling it with something he once knew
Stooping to a level he was above

Misery had left his mind undone
He had broken free of the cycle of life
Time flew and he stood by watching
With his own reality, there was a constant strife

Burdened by the norms he knew
He formed his opinions against them
Tired from the things he had seen
He had retreated to his own den

Peeking outside from time to time
He changed his face with every moment
Trying to fit into what he despised
Never forgetting that he was broken

Knowing full well,  the ecstasy in agony
He plunged back into the pool of plight
Wearing a mask to hide the dark truth
For him, even the sun had relinquished light.

A perfect world that doesn't exist

A perfect world waiting to be found

A perfect world where peace prevails

A perfect world leaves everyone astound


A perfect world has no light

A perfect world has no dark

A perfect world has no arrow

A perfect world has no mark


A perfect world without any wars

A perfect world is without crime

A perfect world has no sorrow

A perfect world just waiting to be mine


A perfect world contains no bodies

A perfect world contains no souls

A perfect world is just a lie

A perfect world is death, untold.

A palm outstretched, the metal shone
Etched on both sides without an edge
The options were weighed, the metal was tossed
To do right by the result, we solemnly pledge.

With a destiny engraved on each side
It went up high and spun around
The dreams weighed more than the metal itself
A breath was held, the wish was found.

Once it reached its pinnacle
Nature took its course again
The metal flew too close to the sun
No feathers to fly, it would crash again.

The palm where the metal rested
Outstretched once more to reveal the destiny
Fingers closed around it once more
Eyes closed, he prayed for an eternity.

He opened his fist to reveal those lines
They belonged to him, they were his voice
His dreams, like the metal, could not be found
It was all an illusion, there was no choice.

I had a dream about the world
a barren of dust, a shattered reality
an affliction had spread, a curse too strong
like cobwebs woven across ancient trees.

Curious, I went to touch the soil
I felt the despair of each grain
the scent, nauseating, obfuscating
each breath chokes me, makes me insane.  

I found a cliff with no end in sight
I steeled my heart, I stifled my cry
to abandon misery, I knew what I had to do
eyes shut, I flew towards my dive.  

The pit in my stomach grew free from the bonds
pulling me, killing me, slowly from the inside
my courage and all my haughty demeanor crushed
falling like the one who couldn't glide.  

I awoke with a startle, a hand on my chest
my heart beating pumps of despair in my veins
I saw the cracks of the world exist on my skin
I know what they are, they are my shame.  

Rub! Scratch! Tear them off
I try to shed the layers I hate
Cover? Hide? No, Burn it all
I cannot escape the cages I create.  

I wait for time to cover my wounds
gently hiding them in innumerable scabs
then slowly I peel them off and bleed
I dissect myself on a desolate slab.

It was the dripping sound that woke me
the subtle, soft tones, going off like clockwork
other things seemed to dim out in it's wake
it brought peace, even if it was murk.

I wish I could be there when it happened
the fancy suits, the large gathering
some words were said, some hands shook
a sadness hidden in the endless chattering.

I felt the rain come down on me
drop by drop, rolling down my face
the harder I tried to wipe it off
more seemed to come, at a faster pace.

A fire was lit and people gathered around it
some holding hands, some clinging to each other
maybe they felt the rain too, I couldn't say
the colors in the sky did seem to flutter.

I sat and let the rain wash over me
there were no clouds, though my face was still wet
wishing for things to change once again
I realize, you only want what you can never get.

Do you hear them too? he asked.
the soft whispers of the abandoned
the musings of a memory long forgotten
the promise of a hope that’s yet to come.

Do you hear that wailing?
the sound of shattering dreams
tearing the skin, marking its presence
another drop in the ocean, another scream.

Walk away from it all, leave it behind
this is not a place one should visit
but how far can you go away
when it is your prison, you are in it.

The sunlight passing through is a lie
fettered to the sky, like you and your bars
close your eyes, but the wailing doesn’t stop
cut everything out, but that feeling won’t pass.

The strange fear in your heart will grow
choking, till you breathe in that pain
till you open those eyes and see
the misery that this life is the new mundane.

Look back and remember the past
Were you ever free? Ever able to fly?
If you were, would you just be like Icarus?
Shot down, with no one to hear your cry?

With each passing moment, the fetters will grow
till you forget what they really were for
with each passing moment, the cage will shrink
till you forget what you had lived for.

The Garden of Eden was never the truth
a memory simply woven out of sand
when the sea of time had waited enough
the tides washed away the promised land.

I am tethering on the edge again
plagued by decisions, too many
the path to travel is nowhere in sight
all that I have left is melancholy.

I remember how I got to this place
it was certain that I would always be right
yet at every fork, I went wrong or left
now there’s no going back, try as I might.

At sorrow’s end I see myself again
as a farmer trying to grow his future
drawing from the well of memories
tilling the fields like a Repugnant Creature.

The choice is simple when I think about it
to savor the moment, or to sacrifice
yet the edge I stand on, rocking back and forth
I cannot find happiness, regardless of the price.

“Fly”, screams the wind, pushing me ever so gently
“Stay”, say the memories, holding me back in place.
“Fight” mumbles my own inner voice
“Pray”, says the world that put me in this cage.

Weary, I sit down on that cliff
staring for answers in that dark abyss
fighting to undo the chains that bind me
all I ever wanted was a little bit of bliss.

This place is cruel, but so am I
unwilling to give up or to fly away
to go anywhere, just not here
my will won’t be undone, it will not sway.

This is another fork, just like before
a battle to be fought before I have recovered
a question that needs an answer right now
To sever, or to be severed?

There's a certain melancholy as I look out the window
the train swaying slowly, billowing smoke as it goes
my thoughts, clouded as they are, reforming me
I close my eyes and imagine the fields passing by.

I try to bring up the happiest memory I have
it's somewhere in there, formless and drifting
yet all I can remember is the path that I have traveled
all I can remember is the path that I have to travel.

I've been on this road for far too long
drifting from one destination to another
searching for an oasis in this endless desert
I am a traveler grown weary of the same old mirage.

The cabin rattles and pulls me out of my stupor
I go back to staring at those endless farms
this momentary respite from the journey
has slowly become the fondest memory of mine.

Smiling, I laugh at my own childishness
of wishful thinking, of dreaming about my goals
my destination is not at the end of these tracks
rather, it's these fields that I am passing through.

A crescent moon shines upon their face

as they walk towards their fate together

hands entwined, love in their hearts

they thought they would live forever.


A startling sound in that lonely night

the hearts beating faster than ever

the cold fear rising in their spines

thought they wouldn't break apart, never.


Years after living together

they thought it was trust that bound them

years after loving each other

they thought it was fate who guided them.


It began with a slow trickle

then the gentle gestures went missing

that trickle grew at a steady pace

the subtle hints had begun dropping.


The curtains of trust that were there

now turning into veils of lies

the intimate moments of love that were

slowly turning into agonizing cries.


The night was still young, they had far to go

the road seemed uneven, those hands were alone

the terrors in the trust that were freshly sowed

had begun to take shape, they had started to grow.


Further and further apart they grew

till there was nothing but silence

further and further apart they walked

till there was nothing more than just night's presence.


The story comes to an end at last

with each moment bearing the hard truth

the hardest part was accepting the fact

the trickle of time that had erased their youth.

Abandoned in the corner of the street
my very existence was born this way
a small child without a ray of hope
no light, they were all gloomy days.

Aging, a slow and painful process
a life with no friends or foes
shunned by society in all my forms
before me, even pity takes a bow.

Blamed for all the sins I kept
punished for all the things I did
too cruel, it was my reality
rage, it's hard to keep it under the lid.

I did not choose to be this way
it how the people shaped me, that matters
a monster, a killer, that's what they call me now
they say everywhere I go I bring disaster.

Why must I keep revenge out of reach?
Why must I be the one to take the blame?
When I sought happiness, you taught me hate
I was your creation, have you no shame?

The blade now turns to you with a glint
crimson, just like my tears once were
had you paid attention, had you any love
I wouldn't have turned out like this, I'm sure.

You sowed the seed of hate in me
You shall reap the anger that grew
You Abandoned Me In The Corner Of The Street
Now with your blood, I shall be anew.

You kissed him when I left his lips
That oversight on your part, that blunder
that causal touch when you held on to him
was when I traced myself across your fingers.

That mistake stayed and so did I
Seeping into your skin, forming a tether
finding a way to bury myself in your clothes
till your scent and I would be together.

At first, you would shy away
hiding that touch from everyone else but me
you knew I stayed behind with you
yet you were afraid to let them see.

Before you knew it, you started to crave
a parched throat lingering for that kiss of rain
sneaking out in the middle of the night
to have me caress your hair all over again.

You took me places where I'd never been
starting from the outside, working my way in
slowly but surely, with each baited breath
you showed me your depths when I couldn't swim.

They saw us together and spewed hate
they didn't know we had just each other
they saw the fire, the warning signs, the flares
you were mine as I was yours, we were lovers.

Years went by and we stood strong
craving each other, meeting in places
my scent never left your fingers
carried around in pockets, in cases.

Tragedy struck when you said no more
I knew you lied to me, and to yourself
you said that enough is enough
it's time to let me go, to be myself.

Yet you came back to me every night
hiding with me once again in secret
my scent still lingered on your fingers
a romance renewed, I couldn't believe it.

Caught on the wrong side of the fence that day
you said it was the last time you'd see me
my heart broke as you threw your cases away
I didn't know without you, what could I be.

I see your face again from time to time
I know you miss my scent on your fingers
I see you when you walk past me and my lovers
after all, I'm just a cigarette smoke meant to linger.

The rain seems to have brought back memories
but not the ones that I had once lived through
to grab a handful of sand, only to see it slipping
the crevices of my hands were never meant to be a dam.

I broke down the other day, in the arms of another
I told her about you, about who and what you are
I shed tears and leapt into a sea of guilt, headfirst
I built a tomb for a man half forgotten.

Was it me who put you there, or was it you?
Standing tall on that pedestal, looking down at creation
Was it me who put you there, or was it you?
Molding your own sense of being to fulfill the needs of others.

Time has flown by, vehemently, erasing and eroding
the shores, where that river flowed, no longer exist
separated by eternity, where I can only see your back
walking away in the distance, engraving a new scenery.

The lines between reality and delusion have blurred
or maybe they were never there in the first place
just like the anguish that haunts the night before dawn
present only when you least look for it, never chased.

The recurring nightmare, or is it that fleeting happiness?
that memory of you, I dare not question if it's real
the ideals distilled into me, from what I knew, from who you were
to have funneled it back into the vault that contains you.

Portraits and messages, long forgotten, hold meaning no longer
the blowing ashes took the warmth of the pyre with them
washing my hands, in the well of memories that I sully
I built a tomb for a man half forgotten.