Even with closed eyes- I see them vividly,
The stretched darkness, bitter melancholy.
They dance up-down, my head-my toe.
Glued to my eyes, but I recall no more.

Written by the angels,blessed by heaven,
And I pour them meticulously,out of my pen.
They would fall like rain,on a parched soil,
Guided by the stars,a guide to my hands.

Call it a tragedy -I left them so bluntly.
I have nothing but, the stollen symphony.
Don't sing like they did -oh the dream I had,
I would sit and cry, but I recall no more.

Call me when the angels fall on earth,
When the volcano ceases to erupt.
When the lotus gets revived from mud,
And the nightingales sing songs of love.

From the saddest part of my heart,
I try to write the saddest words.
Words filled with deserted dreams,
Words that will expunge me.

But, will it make the souls quiver?
Will it sting the sternest heart?
Peel my tempestuous mind,
And turn it into a delicate art.

After I write, in the tears filled night.
Will it soak up, all the sorrows of life?
With the eyes of pity, and fear-filled skin,
Will you cry as I bleed with the ink?

If it can do none, then seal the hands that write.
Beyond this promise me to never unrecalled my words,
And call me the traveler who dreamt of the saddest poem.

I carry a knot in my heart.
My hands tremble,
I can't comfort them both.

I have a fear,
It rests on my fingertips.
I have doubts,
Pumped into my veins.

Maybe they are right,
I am not who I used to be.
Maybe they are right,
I should probably give in.

To the flickering light,
That rests on my stand.
To the empty pages,
That I hold in my hand.

Who am I meant to be?
If I leave all my words.
What will remain of me?
If I surrender and let go.

A dream was seen on a night of roses,
The moon came down,
To give a kiss on the forehead.
The stars tamed the heart,
Freeing it of its burden.
The brain cried to the eyes ,
Adieu to the the thoughts that propelled.
Finally everything was quite,
No one lost, no one came out victorious,
Everyone rejoiced.
Opening champagne to honour the night,
Alsas! they all woke up,
But  they may dream again tonight.

I wasn't wise but I was way before my years,
In the hollow doom, I wished to be a bird.
My feelings were perplexed, nauseating to the core.
The sympathy of the street lamps turned me old.
Through the folding and unfolding,
Of all the phases of the youth.
There was no correct articulation of who we were turning into.
Days were sharp but the nights filled with choice.
There was no malice in the verdict,
Trouble brought destiny and acceptance carried rejoice.

The truth is vile but it is the one that we must see.
Every tears I cried , I cried within me.
I am proud of myself,
For I stood so large for so long.
But the gravity of my inner demon,
Isn't letting me move on.
I have come far,
I walked 100 miles.
And I have reached no where,
I have nothing by my side.
The choice is clear,
You can only give to take.
It's the feeble kind of choice,
Demolishing my everyday.
An empty vessal,
With colorful patterns painted in his front.
What is the use of it,
If it can't hold water nor sun .