And it is in sight* -
a vision of the world through the eyes of one's soul,
rather than,
a vision of one's soul through the eyes of the world -

for those who -
imagine sunrise when all else see sunset,
are the ones,
who can turn the world up side down -

believe -
never give in and accrue wealth,
but set their mind free;
go out, and change the currency.

I was not turned down, I was not sent back,
I was propelled forward.
The world saw me slapped in the face,
I saw the world tap me on my shoulder.
What I was told was, I could not walk through that door.
But what I heard was, that I should fly over the wall.

No matter how utterly you fail, how deep you sink,
You will never end deeper than anyone else,
Exactly six feet from where you are right now.
But the mighty Himalayas are always rising into the sky
So everyone who dares to, will always be
The very first to climb higher than anyone before him.

Epilogue:
It’s not the chair you sit on, it’s the dream.
It’s not the door you walk through, it’s the wall.
If you are good, they will put a piece of metal, on your chest.
If you are great, they will put a piece of metal, in your chest.
Now, do you still choose to be denied?!

A beautiful fowl took refuge behind a fender
Learnt too late, that nature shall render
A stranger called change, that knows no wall,
In the rising flames before her final fall.

A quotidian fowl braved out in the thunder
To rescue a spark which the winds rent asunder
In the gloom of darkness descending from above
discovered a stranger called flame of love.

Dreams bereft
but
not left,
could cloud
an empty sky.

Tears bled
but
not shed,
could fill
a silent pool.

Letters penned
but
not sent,
could consume
a tranquil wood.

Doors blocked
but
not locked,
could allow, yet,
a drop of Sun

enter the
shut,
not sealed
tomb,
and breathe

life, into
what
got cleaved:
waltzing
intertwined vines.

I know that someday I will be found
By someone who believes in me,
And not like, the others, who bound
Themselves, to the jacks of mediocrity.

Someone who can dream blindingly clear
In the reflection of the face of persecution
And keep their selfless vision, through a tear
And stir up in their wake a revolution.

In my search I have nearly lost my mind
And all the while I may still have a choice.
But to be one, with one of their kind,
I will have to somehow lose myself twice.

So, for now I can only brave this test
Before my Answer comes around
That I may at last happily rest
And my long lost heart be found.

I apologize for my elusive attitude,
I’ve been in my fortress of solitude.
I’m sorry to those I’ve been remiss,
My reason for that, is simply this:
Beyond the how and what, a guy,
Must sit and meditate on the why.

The hands of time tied my hands,
And held me from holding you.
With each grain of passing sands
I wish, Oh! Could not we begin anew?

A proud tongue concealed, a deaf me
To the beating of your, heart breaking.
My open eyes, were still blind to see
Tragic music, your eyes were making.

My words and tears now trudge together,
Holding, a broken man on, a broken bridge,
To summer! Away from this untimely weather
So end not in dark chasms, but the warm ridge!

To tomorrow’s love yesterday! I could not see my way,
So not her, but walls held, and souls ne'er meld away
For in my hand a timepiece swung and the principles thereof
But what she held in her heart was a piece of timeless love.

I am here to fight, until the end,
For the one thing, I think matters.
And all the while I watch around me,
My whole world of dreams shatters.

No matter how much, to yourself, you lie,
In the end everyone will surely die.
But the one who will be called above,
Is the one who chose to fight for love.

It matters not, how much pain you inflict,
How astute your spin, how sharp your wit.
And even though they may fail to infer,
To see past your smoke and mirror,

The one left standing in the end,
Is the simple one who would not bend.

I wish I were her tear drop; to
Caress her face when she, is blue.
Wash the pane of her soul, and view
In her reflection, her beauty imbue.

I fall in her sight; though I try
To hang on her lips, they deny.
Unto the dirt, on my knees; still I vie,
For in love I've fallen; my home, her eye.

I wish they would see me; genuflect
and before she trod over me; reflect.

Such beauty I have seen,
That took the eyes of me,
And left me in its wake,
An unquenchable misery.

No birds in the canopy now sing,
No light of summer, No sound of Fall,
But a forgotten tomb; a sunken spring,
I crawl, awaiting Rejuvenation's call.

A stranger in a strange land,
He fails to see or understand,
How he could ever be one with the fold,
And so reconcile the new with his old.
Wondering if he should fight or flee,
When even victory will find him on his knee.
Will she love him and would her embrace
Have the power to give his inner demons chase?
Would he burn brighter each passing day,
Or in the multitude merely dissolve away?
His principles here are contraband,
He is a stranger in a strange land.

"The time has come," (the Walrus said,)
"To talk of many things:
Of heart and head,
To wretches and kings,
Of cloth and thread,
Why the lark sings,
Of blood and bread,
To love and strings,
Of dreams and dead,
What eternally springs."

It is very difficult to choose,
That which you can not afford to lose,

Which is the rose you behold, when your eyes are closed
Whose thorns draw blood, when your arms do not hold

It is the dream that you whisper, but never dare told
The last name you will call before your lips turn cold

A visceral ruse and an abstract muse
The only soul which you wish to fuse.

Days turns to months as you delve and dwell
on the opportune moment to hold and tell

Your heart of hearts that its only choice
Is to embrace the music of the inner voice.

It's a vast wide empty featureless sky
And no bird in it knows how or why

One zips frantically from tree A to B
Another floats aimlessly looking for a place to be

Some gather in a flock and just sing a happy song
While some solitary search for a perch to belong

Some show their colours at hello, some at goodbye
Some survive with pride, some thrive on the sly

Some stay grounded, for them the sky is a wretched thing
While some yet learn to soar again with a broken wing

Some are born with talons, some destined to be prey
Some see the light in the morning, some at close of day

Some see as the worm, some from up on high
Still, no bird in it really knows how or why.

I miss my beautiful butterfly
I call to her, she won’t reply
What fashion of bait could I vie,
To net me that money can’t buy?
But robbed of freedom love would die
Of what use is a pie in the sky?

So with a song in my heart
And hope in my eye
I wait patiently for the return
Of my beautiful butterfly.

This beauty that we see,
of the future; how it can be,
and we want the world to know,
so we fight and die to show.
But a flower of genius must fall,
So the tree of wisdom may grow,
And soon in Spring,
its petals in wild winds will blow.
With a message:
No power can build walls so high,
that can stop the winds of change.