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

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

Doesn't matter if you laugh or you cry,
You'll be here, if you live or you die!
Learn to light up your face with a smile
And be constantly inspired by life.

Are you sad? Then break into tears,
If you're happy then burst into cheers,
Get drunk or just be sober,
It's your life, fill it up with color!

Don't sit empty, never punish yourself.
Rather go out, fall in love with yourself!
Try to know; what drives you crazy?
If it's life, then just be happy!

Reap your sow and the rest, let it be.
You live only once, now believe me
Make peace with life and you'll see,
Live your life and learn to be free!

-The Silent Poet

Our existence is the whisper of life's loneliness which echoes throughout time's length. We come into this world aimless and alone, and that, perhaps is the only purpose; remaining aimless and going alone. Life is often regarded as a journey by philosophers in their wisest opinions, but, every journey has a destination and life has none.

-The Silent Poet

In the sound of silence lies:
A divine presence of solitude.
In this cocoon of silent thoughts,
Answers to my questions may be found.

In the sound of silence I hear;
A profound voice of Truth!
Solemn, firm and resolved it is;
The expression of Peace within.

In the sound of silence I see;
A boring sight of Majesty.
When I open my eyes, I know;
That all that is, is actually all that is not.

In the sound of silence, I listen;
To everything that can be said.
I listen, I perceive, I forget;
And I disagree with the truth.

-The Silent Poet

If you know low life and royalty
If you know how both of these work
If you have experienced both enough
You are blessed. You are blessed.

If you learn selfishness and also know selflessness
If you know which one to practice
If you know to see everything as an event
You are blessed. You are blessed.

If you can stay with the crowd.
And practice their idiosyncrasy
And if you still be yourself
You are blessed. You are blessed.

If you mingle with the crowd.
At the same time, stand out,
If you know to keep virtue while;
Being non-virtuous then,
You are blessed you are blessed.

If you practice all traits of men
And if that doesn't affect your self
If you still are unaltered
You are blessed, you are blessed.

If you know the fine line
Which separates habit from addiction
If you can manage to he safe
You are blessed you are blessed.

-The Silent Poet

May the lord; be of any name or worshiped by people of any religion, And every religion, guide you on your path. Let there be light wherever you go and let there be a place for me in your heart.

-The Silent Poet

There are people, by popular opinion, too insignificant and too small.
But the majesty of a masterpiece lies in it's tiniest intricacies!

-The Silent Poet.

Heed not to the words of the world.
And heed not to the wavering mind.
Heed only to the majestic hand of life,
Kneel only to the solemn love of God.

Love not the glamour of youth.
Adore not the glittering dreams it gives.
Believe in one simplistic life
And make it divine as long as you live.

Live not like the common stock of people.
Live not like the worst of their outcasts.
Live like the ones who run away,
Never to return and never to see again.

-The Silent Poet

I ponder, about the stars in the sky
and the endless expanse of space.
It's complete silence and variation in states
I ponder, what are we doing in this place?

We seek light and desire sound,
But it's all dark and silent all around.
What is it that distinguishes day from night?
How is it that wrong is never right?

I ponder what our true nature is.
Is it chaos? Or is it peace?
Are humans really natural and rational?
The body is superficial and it's peripherals;
Programmable.

We contradict everything in the universe.
Our intellect only makes it worse.
We ought to be silent and at peace,
While we're noisy and fight for piece.

Why is it like this? I think I know,
We've ignored a tiny detail called the soul
The body which you constantly love;
Is actually the peripheral of this soul.

The soul is a universe in itself,
Maybe a reflection or a workstation of it.
It's in perfect harmony with the universe,
It's silent, it's peaceful. The only wait: is for us.

-The Silent poet

Born in this world, blessed are those:
Who with family and love; I suppose.
Born in this world, blessed are those:
Who live with friends and die very old.

Blood defines family; blessed are those:
Who belong to a branch of an old tree oak.
Love defines friendship; blessed are those:
Who aren't family but matter the most.

Born in this world; we come alone.
We live with people and then die alone.
Born in this world; blessed are those,
Who realize we're orphans or I suppose.

-The Silent Poet

The nature of nature she is; very silent.
Not heard and can't be spoken about.
Silence, a poet's way to bring out words:
Break her and I see myself left with Songs.

The mother of words she is; very thoughtful.
Nourishes them and they forget her throughout.
Silence, a seeker's way to see the divine:
Break her and I see myself left with Gods.

Omnipresent she is; very generous.
Disguises herself as sound, music or words.
Silence, that music which stands alone:
Break her and I see myself left with tunes.

-The Silent Poet

She was with him and he with her,
Like parallel lines, they really were.
One loved the other but couldn't tell,
Likes they were, but they could not repel.

Curious they were about each other,
Like when a child sees another.
Strongly anxious yet hesitant,
Innocent it was, something prevalent.

It was special, that exact moment.
Better than love or any sort of romance.
Friends they were and they loved each other,
He looked at her, like he looked into the mirror.

The wisest of men adhere to but one policy:
That a word once spoken, is a word that shall long be echoed.
And that,silence, if made one's only legacy,
Would imbibe in them, more than just the ineffable ethos.

-The Silent Poet

The angels have spoken to me and have told me this:
That the woman I love is their high queen of the heavens.
I am told by these angels that she now lives in a fortress of magic,
Of my heart; without her knowledge she rules behind those gates.

-The Silent Poet

By the clashing of words starts a war.
Words served by blood and sweat, it's fought.
When neither men nor metal can leave a scar,
Words are made weapons to **** a thousand hearts.

In a fortress of thoughts sits the sire,
Words are after all, only his slaves.
The intellect, his minister and the body, an armour.
He rules alone in the dark, his name is desire.

-The Silent Poet

The winds of time whisper but one tune and it enthuses-
The gloomy senses of a dreamy person with a shining mind.
Says to him; your life resides in travelling the world, dear son:
The waves call you unto them, with sun o'erhead and deep within.

In silent dreams cruises the aspiration of an enigmatic soul-
On the calm waves of youth, driven by a carefree fuel.
For the ocean is vast and glorious; and there are numerous isles
On which hopes could be docked and a life could be harboured.

Every person desires at least once, to live like a vagabond-
To move about places relentlessly and to flow like the wind.
Bearing the scent of people and the sound of life they go,
From place to place, revering everything from a corner of their souls.

-The Silent Poet