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Babylona Bora Jan 2014
Unfathomable to many
desires loneliness
and
solitude,
Explores realms of beauty,
Freedom
and
dreams,
She speaks of Desolation
Seeking journey of life
and
peace,
Mind jammed with uncertainity,
Ostracized by society,
All she seeks Desolation.
Pain lonely
Babylona Bora Sep 2014
Like a bird in  cage,she flutters her wings for freedom
Prisoned in his devilish abode, she craves for  attention
The Demon, bold and strong marked upon her his scent
'This is my territory and you are my prisoner
Never in my wildest dream will I let you free
as you are my only solace' he told her.

'I want freedom, in its accepted form'
Devasted I am with this imprisonment guarded by lust,
How can I unlock the cage to your heart,' she replied in a voice which trailed off into muteness


Agonised in pain
succumbed with misery,
She realised the path to his heart
Is one tough journey

The Demon made his appearance into her chamber,
Startled with his presence, she kept away her thoughts for later
For he came and pushed her
Kissing her passionately,against the wall.

Holding her up against the silky red plasters,
He worked his way to open her antique lace dress
With perfect dexterity,he unhooks every button
And plants silent kisses
She moans with pleasure
As he marks her with his teeth down her neck.


Lost herself to the demon of lust.
Not her mistake to fall in love,
Little did she knew the cost of love.
Such lust ; Such pain
The endurement of love.
Babylona Bora Apr 2014
Monochromtic.
Those gleaming eyes.
Filled with dreams of the universe,of the unspoken world,
The golden smile you wear is a beauty which can't escape; the eyes of your admirers.


'You have valued me,reinforced in me your good virtues.
Loved me in good.
Cherised me in my bad.
Don't you get tired?

'Don't you feel like breaking this bond and running away?
The girl who has always beared me and will continue to do so till the world comes to an end,
'You'll be my bridesmaid'
Said she.
Those lovely words made my heart skip with joy.
Of chimes and beautiful music,
That beautiful day will come,of your marriage.
To my dear bestfriend,PB.

Special thanks to Filzah Belal and Dikshita Phukon.
Babylona Bora Jan 2014
Wearing an invisible cloak,wandered she
Her skin as pale as a corpse but yet lustrous;
Makes her way towards the isolated forest,
Desolation seeks her,absence of utopia.
Existence unknown,the forest being the dwelling place.
Her solitude life deters crowd of happy folks,
All she wants,Oh' all she wants,a name.
A name signifying her unknown existence,
Lives a suffocated life,seeking answers unimaginable.
Abandoned in a lonely place, lived she among the wild.
Curiosity  fills her mind,
Wrath and fear of yesteryear s' sufferings,
Dominates her, the abandoned maiden.
Wandered she in the wild,
Bearing an identity nobody knew.
Babylona Bora Feb 2014
Thumping of the heart,
Echoes in her mind
With each little step,
Reaches she; The destination.
The destination of her gullible mind.
Eyes blurred with tears,
Happy tears,tears of freedom.
Retrospection seeks her mind; sad days were gone. 
No longer are they a part of her soul,
She looks at those scars,of pain and violence. 
Which marks her pale body.
'This is the end' , her psyche tells her. 
End of her forbearance. 
She'll fight,for the sake of dignity.  
For respect,for pride.
The phoenix in her soars high,proud and unafraid. 
A new birth, a new identity. 
She'll fight,for a change.
Pride anger pain violence revenge
Babylona Bora Jan 2015
Every day,every hour,every minute a new life takes its course on earth. Be it a plant,an animal or us human beings. Everyone grows from scrapes,like a climber which if not cut down shall never stop its growth. But who owns that right to cut it down? Now try to imagine yourself in the place of that climber. You're happy,content and living. You owe nobody except the people you love :your parents,your sisters,brothers and friends.But suddenly you're no longer alive to see the smiling faces of your loved ones. They come and fire three bullets into your already withered body,after all those beating and harrasing. What was your fault? You didn't owe them anything! Nothing!
    You ask yourself,'Who gave them the right to exercise an upper hand in all these brutality? First of all,who are these savages called 'they'?' Are they not human beings like you and me? You screamed. You were just a child,when they were molesting you. Did you know that it was coming to you? Had you've known you'd have never gone out of the house that day. 'I just wanted to play marbles',you whimpered in pain after your body was thrown into a cold chamber consisting of hundred other dead bodies. You can't feel your scarred body anymore. 'Mama,Papa,stay inside'- your last words.
'There were no bad and good,
   No evil or angelic.
  Killing became a hobby of those
    whose meaning of 'their' race
became a matter of consequence.'
Babylona Bora Jan 2014
The aroma of the dead,
makes her body warm and cold, transforms her into a lonely soul.

Agonized by her lover's death, lives in a curse;she.
The pall of trauma and fear terrorizes her,
Left with no choice but to seek Benediction of the almighty!

The twist of her fate in the blink of an eye,
Jovious she was;once upon a time,the lonely soul.
Longs for love.
Longs for warmth.
Eyes swelling,with a paper like body.


Her days are coming to an end,
Reminescence of late love captivates the longful soul;
as dwells in her mind he,the yesteryears' love.

Unforgettable he was,ever will be.
Love never bloomed for the longful soul,
Eyes remain dull,
With a body made of stone;as nomore was she,the happy soul.
Aroma love dead pain
Babylona Bora Sep 2014
I wore my frilly frock,embellished with stones bright
Tying my hair into a pigtail
I came out of my room like a strong gale


'Father!' I called out loud,
Again and again with a merry voice
I lacked patience and many other virtues
But all of it was unseen
For that day was my birthday

Mother came rushing to me
Held me against her *****
In a creaking voice she said to me..
'Ssh,my child.
He is out
He is out to make our country proud'.


I was 11, a child lost in her own dreams
of colors, dolls and things pretty
Never did I understand my mother's message
For I was a child void of the world of war
of blood and death.

The radio played,
My mother cried.

'What is happening?'
I thought.
The surroundings sulked in gloom
I shook my mother's arm
Tears gushing down her face,she looked at me

'General Smith , died a martyr..'
The radio played
'..served his country till his last breath'
it went on playing.

My world of pretty things bright
was no more bright
For the pall of darkness battled and won over all things nice.

Everything echoed in my ears
My father's name was being played over and over again.
They were singing praises of my father
'He was out to make our country proud' they said.

He finally came
Draped in a white sheet
He was there,sleeping.
Many faces unknown crowded my home
Cried they on the occasion of my birthday.

I went up to him and cried
'Wake up Father, its my Birthday.'
Tears rolled down my cheeks.
For he lay there silent,eyes closed.

'Oh' I muttered
and ran down the hallway
Shutting the doors behind me
I buried myself on the pillow
Praying to God for everything to be a nightmare
I wished for nothing but to fall asleep forever.

My world of pretty things bright
was no more bright
For the pall of darkness battled and won over all things nice.

I was 11 and innocent.
A stranger to the world of war,blood and death.

— The End —