In a life of learning from your mistakes,
how blessed you must be to commit
To those while holding hands of a person:
Whom you so dearly call as a friend!

Breathing in each other's breath and,
Venturing into the darkness of life,
Hand in hand we go, igniting light from within.
Friend:- a companion unto himself:
Through the loneliness that this life offers.

From the mistakes we make, spark opinions
Of all sorts and of all kinds known to man.
Mine differs from yours and yours from others.
Opinions projected from the quintessential free will of man,
Make us the finest of the Almighty's creation.

We have but one life to live under the sun.
And a handful of people to have an experience of it.
We may fight, we may hate for a while but-
Something sublime is hardwired into all of us,
Almost embedded in our very souls:
only Forgiveness and love prevails at the end.

From within the vaults of the lost soul arises;
an uncontrollable desire to explore what has been forgotten.
A home which was once its own and the people who were its kin.

On its way back, Under the blazing sun it stands, as a witness to life of men:
And in silent thoughts, the observer becomes the observed,
Witnessing its own life; melting like the blue sky on the world.

Like the wind it was and with the old trees it had fallen in love.
And there was a strange familiarity with them, for it.
Like when the river meets the ocean and pours itself into it,
Or as an old pilgrim finally finds his destination of life.

As every river finds home in its ocean,
So does every soul finds solace in its people.
And when memories are made and the world has been conquered in spirit,
One only realizes that journeys end only back at home.

-The Silent Poet

When words were stolen from my page
I flew into a useless rage,
But then I came across some lines
Which helped me through those angered times.

It was Poetry Journal (MVP)
Who pointed out the theft to me.
Ajey Pai K also showed
The plagiarism, and bestowed
This knowledge for the world to see,
And challenged them to disagree.

I did some research to discover
This matter clearly touched another;
Scout Pilgrims poem said "Don't be
An *******!" to writers like me,
And so I tried to write some verses
In appreciation for the curses
You heaped upon the plagiariser
Whilst I, myself, was none the wiser

If it wasn't for people like you,
Who helped their fellow poets through
And valued the writers honesty,
I'd give up writing poetry,
And although this poems not my best
I need to get this off my chest
So I'll force the rhyme to make it so;
I appreciate it lots- thank yo!

I'm not allowed to live among people.
I guess I don't deserve to be one of them.
Or maybe, they're just all the same?
To breathe someone else's breath: suffocating.

I am not allowed to live by myself.
I guess everyone is worried about me.
Or maybe, just filthy intolerance of my being?
Adhering to everybody's advice: enslaving.

I'm not allowed to give an abstract meaning to life.
I guess it's sad to not have someone beautiful beside?
Or maybe, they don't understand that beauty has no appearance.
Being a judge and picking people: inhuman.

I'm not allowed to live in the moment.
I guess carrying the past on your back is nostalgic?
Or maybe, thinking of the future is too fantastic!
Being busy, disturbed and in misery: deathly.

To not admire what you have and living in an unquenchable thirst to possess,
To have money and not knowing it's value.
Earn, spend, possess and finally get bored.
To repeat this cycle countless times.
To meet unusual people and brand them socially awkward.
To be selfish but fake the concern for others.
To call this life, is mockery of my being. It's blasphemy.
I'm not allowed to live among people because that's not my life.

We all matter. Maybe a little less or a little more. But our roles are imperative for the functioning of the universe. So hang in there!

-The Silent Poet

You don't fall in love with a person. You fall in love with the ideal version of that person which you create in your mind.

-The Silent Poet