What does it mean to be beautiful,
  To be alone in the most beautiful way
  To sink into the solitude with such grace
  A candle flame flickers that way
  Speechless a burning orange fire
Restless to become one with the darkness around.
Clothes wet and washed down the rocks
Lost somewhere in the running black water
What does it mean to be beauty itself,
  To be naked like the night
  Lost and meditating in desire
  Craving quietly for his holy touch
Tell me what it means
to be beauty itself,
  to be naked like the night
  and still get him to stare
  at only the moon that you hold in your eyes.

I could just sit here wounded,
do nothing but stare at all your colours
closing my eyes, tracing your face
with cold palms, I could just be
How ever you want me to, I can be
Without wanting anything back,
without taking anything but your blood
into my veins,
And it's okay my love, let the door be
Let the rain pour
We have this night and you have all of me.

to the stars

forgive me for falling back into the black
but I am looking up at you and asking you to come back into me
tear open my flesh and let me rise up
like ether into your ambient neighbourhood

make me forget
**** me and once more I shall be born
and this time I will remain beautiful

and at peace

Every dusk, my roses die like the day
And still I say, " Honey, don't wilt away. "

Paradise paved it's way onto Earth. Behind the southern Alps, beneath the flowing Caribbean, beyond the rainbow, over the silver clouds, life is constantly blooming within each water-laden monsoon sapling. Mere things breathe. They are alive and carefree, busy yet not artificial, beautiful and god-made, innocent and all-knowing. Nature heals her lovers. She starts a jungle on mind's wilderness until the observer forgets about foolish social existence. For nature, kindness is not a virtue to be congratulated about. It is her habit. Nature comforts, provides, enlightens and what folks do not realize - nature speaks. Every celebrated invention starts with a single thought. Again, it is about what lies in you. Every journey starts with a single step. It is just a decision away. Every material desire that people today work for has ancestors inside. Within one. Nature shapes your soul into the beauty that she is. What nature offers to teach is divine. She says wisdom. Not intellect. She teaches courage before bravery. She teaches one to admire before criticize. "Seek ye and ye shall find". Nature trains eyes to seek beauty. Seek beauty, hunt for beauty, find beauty and this world would be the most beautiful illusion ever. Watch how nature beautifully combines pleasure and trouble  through disaster. When beauty is within, beauty comes inevitably and effortlessly like magnet draws iron. You will rule your kingdom alone once Nature shows to you her impossible miracles and incredible wonders.
Paradise paved it's way onto Earth, into me. How beautiful the music behind my head sounds, how lucky I am for it never ceases to play the hypnotizing tunes of heavenly activity and earthly buzz, amid noise. When I thought I had no shoulder to cry on, the black black nights sat all along. When no smile felt pure enough, I saw happy faces among the clouds. When the battle in my head overcame the sound of the music my heart played, birds sang sweetly into my ears. When my senses felt dry, it rained cats and dogs. When I had to learn my lesson, nature pretended harsh.
Out of all these layers of rawness around my soul, I peep out, trying to tell you what took me some unbelievable experiences to realize. The solutions to all problems, nature holds. Nature nurtures like a protective mother and provides like a careful father.
Above all, she is the only one in whom I lost myself and discovered the lost me.

Silver fog
the stairs wet
knock knock
would you let
the winter enter
your door
would you let her
swallow the floor
underneath your toes
collapsing into her heart
would you meet her there
waiting in the womb of silence

Scraped till bled, alive after they have her dead
To be left alone, she dreams of silence
At the foot of the lunatic's hill
With the mangy beasts of the wild
Which won't let you live they tell her.
They tell her their many many stories
With conclusions and morals
As she looks up at the ravens in the sky.
Hopeless.
Isn't she?

I don't know what the answer is
make a paper ball out of it
and hurl it my way
before they find out

Tall palm trees swaying to the summer breeze
Do ye hear the wailing of the Zamindar's dog?
Peasants watering the fields, their struggles to cease
The scent of the wet soil and the morning fog.

Laughing alongside the silent river those women
Sparkly doe-shaped eyes, balancing a *** on their heads
To a confident rhythm their bare hips sway, raw beauty doesn't hide
Bending over to fetch water under the scorching sun overhead.

Frowning at the tropical summer fate
Young men walking behind the gloomy cattle
One haughty whip whack on the animal's back
They move on through the peaceful village rattle.

People witness the first rays of the sun
They continue to work even after the days choke
Dancing to the tunes of sheer simplicity
Live the wise and healthy village folk.

Eyes which hide a desperate soul
Wanting something which no human had hold
He bothers not but he does care
Accepting honesty which is just not fair
Like a magician out of thin air,
Art and himself, an undying bond they share.
His past was too eventful; I call it history
The present, tangled in deep deep mystery
The astronaut of his dreams, a fortunate trader
He chooses not the sound of 'grey', he uses 'silver'.
He is disappointment accompanied by gratitude
Everything beautiful is his soul's food
Blessed with the gift of true goodness,
An impartial admirer of undying passion and natural clue
He is the healer of his solitude,
He is the silence which married vacuum's mood.

Wherever his thoughts sail him to
Whichever land his heart chooses to move to
Whatever beauty his eyes seek to find
There,the wildest of the worlds his soul grew.
There is nothing which would trouble the wanderer
Yet, I see there is something too.
More than this world around him, he is stronger
The wanderer wails only because of the universe within,
The wanderer is used to wandering,
He walks blindly with pain inside, beauty beside,
Love on his mind, peace struggling with reality
He knows that he's the only person who can help him
Unlock the treasures of golden nature,
Shining shyly like dreamy drops of silver dew.

When the boat sails, I look back to smile at the distance behind
When the sun wakes up, I still wave back at the moon
When I feel happy, I miss the pain which helped me grow
When I could shop anew, I explore the store room.
When the world is sleeping, I stay up and dream
When the cold is seeping, I miss the midday summer struggles
When mother is ill and silent, I crave for her anger steam
When I find Math easy, I dig for those impossible puzzles.
Within the past, I find myself
History holds the solutions to all unanswered questions
Along the lines of the present, I breathe
Old is gold and new brings opportunity
Goodbye, the hardest word, it will always be.

and why do you write?

i'll go first
i sometimes forget my name
it's one of those days
(every other day)

if you tell me I can't make it as a writer
that I must quit "trying"
I'll go into my burrow
and write about it in my little book

i write to live correctly

I don't stop by
liquor houses anymore
I head straight to the sea

Please, I beg you
Tell me what I need to do
To be able to own you
Please, tell me where to find you.
Every second, I devote to you
You are my ability
You are the truth behind my smile
You lie between the words of my poetry
You are the lyrics to my songs.
Please, I beg you
To strengthen this hope I have on you
I know we are impossible
But you were the one who got me to fall for you.
Is it my fault that I hear your voice
Singing to me those goodnight lullabies?
You are the reason I am this strong
Hiding behind my eyes are pictures of you.
Please, I beg you
Please remember this human you created
I know we are to part in a year or two
Or shall I love you all over from the start?
That is okay, Love
I will always love you
You will always be right by me
You will always be the 'you' that my poems accrue.

When death shall knock at my door
I would be an antique evidence of the past
When this world shall bear me no more
I would haunt the crimson sky so vast.
Alive, then, I truly would be
Resting deep in the blackness of thought,
They ask, Is she alive or not?
I did say no, but they had to make it hard.
At my grave, you stand low and think
You make no sound, you do not blink
It rains and thunders, you do not leave
Crying over the dreams that we used to weave.
You search for my body as it sleeps
And now, my awaken soul sees the truth
Honey, please for me, do not weep
Even as I lie down, my promises I keep.

Orbit around me and forget I exist
feed me the dust falling and rising inside of your head
watch how I accept your dying
seasons with gratitude for
you have become the very reason
why my feet spin in this empty space
without making a point.
But when I the darkness rise, the mountains fall
into deep purple slumber like the moon,
yawning as the sky keeps mumbling at us
it's inescapable questions.
Moist shores continue to gaze at the floating stars
above, gliding and swimming the black waters
distant and untouchable like a dream.
The talking has been left behind.
The moaning of the beautiful is resonating everywhere
every place, every corner, every cave
Love, roaring, makes it's way back into the candle
that stands outside the door
of a stranger hiding yet another world
in his eyes, alive.