A nebulous hope on the silhouette of horizon.
My redeeming font , one sweet poison.
Slowly it obliterated  me ,
branding with ache of reaching.
The ashes of my nous shouting and screeching.
Left with repugnant psyche of an undying hype.
Resplendent hysteria of an antithetic type.
Is it the verity or  nebulous dream.
Is it the silence or vociferous scream.
The part of me desists.
The part of me resists.
To walk the path that leads to decay.
Holding the faith with doubts at bay.
What do I do , to overcome this interlace.
May be I spiflicate the existence , and
   live as Inanimate* .

I woke up this morning and my name flashed on T.V.
They said i blew up places , they said i killed masses .
Men , women & children I murdered them all.
Who am I ?
I am a muslim and i am taking this fall.
They used my name and spread the terror.
I am not them , it surely is an error.
We, muslims, are the holders of peace , we spread love.
Why am I being  represented by their false actions.
I am a person, with different notions.
World will now brand me a terrorist.
Don't judge me by their actions , I insist.
I am not them, they pilfered my name.
They inflicted libel , and my religion to defame .
I have been robbed , robbed of my name.
I am a muslim , human like you , all the same.
My name has been robbed , my identity stolen
I deprecate the terror and mourn for fallen.
There are millions like me and humanity lies in our depths.
But we are all victims of Identity Theft* ...............

She was a picture of monotonous monochrome.
She was deathly quite in one jaunty home.
She lied in wait of eyes that could see through her bleakness.
One who could see the beauty in her , beyond her illusory mess.
People gazed at her and noticed the lack of chroma.
Then a man , destitute of vision , approached and followed her aroma.
He gazed at her with the touch of his finger.
And time stopped as he started to linger.
His gaze took him , in the depths of her beauty.
And she spilled colors and made him sooty.
With no vision he espied her coloration.
and world was hysterical
at their love in
such
excommunication*.

She was effigy of chaos,  conflicts and messed stories.
Her heart was broken but it radiated beauties.
The dark in her was a mass of stunning surprises. She'd  smile and smile passed the peace.
In her arms,  tranquillity lied & in her arms my disturbed mind would ease.
With an undefined gravity she pulled me close.
Close and close,  she became someone I'd never lose*.

He remained silent and his silence spoke.
Without words,  the story bespoke.
There was a fight in his breath , a soul of a fighter.
Another strain and his fist got tighter.
Facing the enemy ,living with in.
Morbid and morbid , beating the sin.
Times & times, he was dead.
Again & again , he rose from the very death bed.
Carved the hope from with in despair.
Beating the strain and no spare.
He is the human fighting for bread.
He is alive but living among dead.
He shares the same world where vanity live .
He has no food , which is care to few.
He is the fighter , fighting for life.
To be a human or a fighter, that's his strife*.