Driving through a remote highway in a thunderstorm,
winds howl
deafening the ears craving for a consolatory and palliative sound
the welkin lit by the fire flashing across the clouds.
The rain
****** the cars.
The thunder
seemed like a dying drummer of a battlefield.
The fiery sky
ushered callousness into the deserted streets.
A mixed feeling of fear and loneliness, anxietic trepidation and forlorn..  
Suddenly,
appeared a bridge.

Lighted feebly by a bygone light post
flickering,
like the breath of the dying.
As soon as I allowed the bridge
to place its hand over my head,
the noise dampened.
the uneasiness decreased.
the war ended.
and the drummer took a moment to rest his head upon his drum..
a sigh could be felt.
there was a sense of composure and calmness
Kept hidden in the unfriendly localities outside.
The heart wanted to stay,
to be wrapped in the serenity.
The pacifying feel
like a mother holding her child.  
like a wounded soldier,
who returned from the war zone, being taken care and healed by love.. but soon as I left the warmness of the friendly area..
the thunderclaps welcomed me like they got their prey back..
the winds
growling against my windshield like an unfriendly knock at the midnight.. the blanket of darkness hides away
all the light which once seemed within the reach..
I drove back home..
but with a smile..
Smile, depicting the right prediction of  ending up in the same place from where I had been continuously trying to get out..
with a glow on face..
Glow, created by the fire which had been burning everything in front of me..
The tears, though invisible,
reminded me of the lows I deserve.
doing right, yet losing
was a habit now.
I marked another red on my ledger but without any jolt.
A sigh
was enough
to show that I was back.

That calming, comforting, gentle, peaceful, reassuring, restful, alleviating, consoling, easing, mollifying, pacifying, relaxing, relieving, remedying, softening, warming feeling was you.


That bridge was you.

I’m obsessed with pain
Because pity comes with
Fighting my own made-up fights
“How do you know what I go through!?
How can you possibly understand!?”
I wish I could say those words
Yet they remain locked in verse
Every waking moment I rehearse
Front to back and back in reverse
Cause maybe if I keep yelling
To myself
I’ll start to believe
My own delusions
This confusion
The illusion
That I’m in pain when really I’m not

I want to hurt so that I can say:
“You’re hurting me, please go away.”
And yet I always stay

Her soul's poetry
Written  in deep dark ink,
Gushing through her veins
Etched across her bones
A tale untold

The world rebounds on touching her surface
Nothing ever leaves a mark
Or atleast
That is what she makes believe

Breathing life ,
She walks into the crowded room
Hidden behind her jokes and laughter.
Comedy weaving up the tragedy .
Humour , the only link to her sanity.
She breathes
Broken,  unnoticed.


The world brushes past her touch
Blind.
Oblivoius to the struggle.
Her mind, toxic to her soul
Her skin, her veil.

Yet, her pillows talk of red swollen eyes
And endless nights
Gazing at the moon
Half hidden beneath the clouds
Reflecting light
To cloak the darkness seeping within .

She draws her blinders shut
While her guitar weeps her wounds
The cadence of misery
Into the world of rhythm, she slips.

When shall the masquerade end ?

She walks away
Into the fog
On her own

Brick after brick
A fortress she built
And locked within her own incarceration,
Short haired rapunzul
Afraid to let the knight reach within .
vows of saviours, never heed.

Her facade, flawless
Yet not deceiving those little eyes
Searching for the truth beneath the illusion.
Decrypting the inscrutable dissimulation.

To those pair of eyes,
Slowly fading into oblivion
Lost within it's own ceaseless blue
Seeking for the line between the black and grey.
Her voice , liberating .
Finding its way within the chaos,
Resuscitating.
Giving life to a long forgotten voice
which whispers,
"Take off the masque, You're beautiful. "

As I sit and sip a glass of wine,
I think about all the mistakes I've made,
Loving you is one of them,
Deprivation I felt when you left,
Destined were we for each other,
Rapturing was your soul,
Full of lustre and captivation,
Drawing me closer to yourself,
Where, vague to me was wtitten on your forehead, beware,
Zeus and poseidon weren't even that strong to set us part,
Metallurgy and chromatography were weaker than I thought,
Our lives together shone,
The radiance and heart amidst our relationship was at spark,
Why'd you go and vandalize what once we fought for?
I was mortified by society from that day on,
Promising to myself I'd never fall,
Destructing all chemistry to keep at halt,
Never have I moved on from that day on,
Never will I even ponder upon that thought.

And I found peace
in your prayers
And I find solace
when bowing and crying in front of you,

Every tear that I shed
all my regrets
all my sorrows
they all decayed the moment I called on to you,

The poignancy in my heart
the impossibilities
and the hurdles I faced
all I ever did was cry in front of you,

I felt like I sinned a lot
I was grieving
the pain I carried was so immense
And all I said was 'Ya Rahman, Ya Raheem' all that I had on my mind was no more.

Whispers , whispers in my head..
"Walk along with me into the darkness , the darkness ..
Entrancing , enthralling ...
Give in , let go.. "

Floating into oblivion
Hope fading away
Pain peircing from within ,
Overwhelming rage..

Whispers, whispers in my head..
" Dont turn away , dont trust them,
   Walk alone , all alone ...
 Blow out that candle ,
Those shadows won't haunt you anymore "

Anger clawing into my bones,
Agony ripping my soul

The never ending spiral..

Whispers, whispers in my head ..
" Descend , descend.. "
" Deeper , Deeper .. "

Mirrors , mirrors all around
Monsters drawing in ..

Whispers, whispers in my head..
" Dont fight them, let your reflections remain.. "

Fear rooting me
Clutching me tight..
I shriek, until my lungs give out
Terror, gripping my throat ..

Whispers , whispers in my head..

" Shhh , dear
There's the blade ."

Whispers, whispers in my head..

" ....Sweet , sweet death  ..."

Two in the night isn't the right time
to be watched over by two eyes in silence
occasionally broken by a hushed voice
pack up sir, madam must be waiting sleepless.

Three in the night and he was right beside me
while the weary moon slanted to west
and dead insects lay on the floor
burned out by the joy of light.

Four in the night he was escorting me home
half a mile up the hill
when the stars were shedding light
fading with the dying night.

He died sometime after I left the island.

On sleepless nights he's there to see me off.
He could never be dead in my head.