There are million things hitting my head
when it comes to you
I am a girl with a messy head and unbalanced emotions
Yet you leave me in a surprise
When with a small warm smile of yours
You tell me that you love me.
I know you are not interested in this play of words
that I do day and night
Yet you spend nights singing songs and listening my poetry...
Thank you.

"boy"
Once there was a boy
Who stood in front the mirror
For so long he drowned
He was gasping for air but
No one saw him but himself

The words come forward
Like a never ending stream
Of flowing
Water jewels
That take on the hue
Of sparkling gems
That want to find a home
In the pupils
Of my mind

I have forgotten how
real happiness tasted like.
I no longer remember
the last time when I wore an actual smile.

Now, I hardly believe in the
"happy v/s the sad" days
For now, its
"worse v/s the worst" days..

Months ago:

Me: I'm sad
My soul: It's just a phase for it shall pass.

Now:

Me: I'm happy today
My soul: Its just a phase for it shall pass

In an open hut
There was a hole in the roof
from which sunlight comes on hut.

In every evening
sitting on the wooden chair in front of hole
i thought my past and future
i cried loudly
My soul was dead for two moments of happiness
My tears was red like blood
Who started falling on the ground every evening
By din't of this
Earth crust is like red.

One evening
Again i sit on my wooden chair
suddenly,
Clouds started thundering ...
lightning started shining...
Hut started moving...
Cloud started like raining...
i was lost in my memories
i cried,and tears like blood.

But that evening,
my tears become colorless due to rain drop
Red "danger color" disappeared
for few moments
I feel that...my past sorrowful memories
Are flow like water
suddenly,
A new thought come on my mind,
that is filled with my sweet memories,
Of past and future which gives me happiness.

Incorporeal wooing
-- benighted brown study,
slow to bleed,
turning on its axis,
wintergreen leaf
in free fall,
when all alone
the butterfly escapes the killing jar,
to parlously play along
this dulcet bine,
strumming crura,
like Orlando to faire Rosalind
in the Valley of Hinnom,
"a hunger uncurbed by nature's calling,"
which prayerfully ascends,
asking for cotyledon to appear
by break of day/dream.