Blush so evident
with no make up
like a little girl she laughed

Dressed as she owned
garden of flowers
pretty in colors and bright

Lost in her
world of fantasies
said it was all for her only one

Held her lover tight
and showered kisses
bragged on owning him forever

I felt her in parts
happy and sad
for I'd been same with her lover in past

What an odd pair
the world laughed

You and me
our fragile love

I bloomed
when you showered me love

In days you failed
I still grasped

Neither you nor me
were aware of our
bottled feelings

I your muse
and you mine
we co existed for a while

Until we ran out of time
for neither of us belonged
together

The world knew
yet we denied

1

For the first time
when my harmones blossomed,
In the garden named "LOVE"
I met lust disguised as love.

Fallen for my innocence,
It said "Pick any you'd like
and enjoy while it lasts."
A lovely red rose caught my eye.

I watered, I nurtured
I showered it with care
Held to my inner sunlight.
Ticking time, the petals fell, wilted.
It said "My heart's soil was shallow"
The first crack in my heart's walls, I left.

On my way I met twins "Miss doubts and Mr. fears"
They told me they'd be at my service anytime.
I hesitantly shook and left, wiping my conscious.

It no longer smelt my touch, fallen for other hand
that secretly held in my absence.
Enraged, I poured my words of fury.
Next morning I saw it prickly stand
when I reached to save, I bled.
I got to know the irony behind love and red.
Tears streaming down my face,
my heart walls had holes leaking blood in colors.
I realised it wasn't love, neither first flower I eyed.
If "Beauty and the Beast" existed. I was the beast
holding my last rose only to fall until I despised.

They told me "let it go", there's more to life.
Too close is too lifeless
And I let go.


2

After the last incident, Happiness died
giving birth to Sadness, my only companion.
A certain stranger knocks my door
Says "I'm sent by love to guide you.
I'm HOPE, pleasure to meet you" it shook my hand.

Overwhelmed to have a guest
I locked sadness in a room.
"Don't get attached, live in the moment
Everything's temporary, including me" said sadness
I didn't know what it meant but I felt happy again.

Over the next decade, I played the same game.
I'm the game, the players changed.
And everytime the player left so did HOPE.
I realised it's a coward that loved hide and seek.

Meanwhile my sadness who crept then and now
had an affair with it's neighbour, "Mr. Lonely"
It had now given birth to Depression,
cradling, Pain.
I have a family with all the dull and lifeless
that stood by me in stormy nights
I've grown fond of them.

Happiness is a fickle friend,
I let go.


3

For the 50th time
Fascination towards fantasy gone.
I turned into a cage trapping myself
building walls high enough with a sign
"Trespassers will be prosecuted."

A visitor stops by and says
"I've been sent by hope,
Let me undo past mistakes and
make it brand new once again
I'm EMPATHY, your renovator."
Touched, I crumble to it's arms,
let it make the choices for me.

I once ran across it's files and
found a note "The best is yet to come"
signed by HOPE.
HOPE knew exactly who to send
They're all in cahoots working for illusionist LOVE.
I've now grown numb to all the tricks
I've understood how this game of life works.

All I've ever wanted to find was
True love, Peace and Faith.
Winds whispered, "Not in this life, you don't.
Faith is far fetched and you're out of luck.
But if you find then you'll find the other two
In afterlife."

They say some things aren't meant to be.
Silenced, raging thoughts within
I grin,
I let go.


4

In the modern era
I'm a lifeless soul programmed to welcoming.
Known or unknown, I shall never know
It all seems a lifetime of series
I never counted or probably ran out of numbers,
for my dumb brain lacks mathematical intelligence
It holds no record of events
I'm now slave to my emotions, a cyborg
They run their course and I abide.

Change is the only constant
I erase memories like they don't mean anything
Forced to let go,
I let go

5

In the nth dimension
I have a large machine pressed tight
to the walls of my chest.

And whenever it crumbles like "The usual"
No hesitation I jam the gigantic ****

LET. IT. GO.

Someday things will change
in a way better strange

Or perhaps

Someday is a belief
for present relief

"Promises are meant to be broken because people are broken."

The white turned pale yellow pages, the deep ink, faded writing of life's notebook. It haunts at times, shadows of past taking precedence of the moment to live in present. When the steadfast silence grows, the voice echoes, drawing a flashback of series of unfortunate events.

All the times I tumbled and fell in rabbit's hole, a symbol of trust, but ended up in "Godric's Deathly Hallows".

This world in indeed a magic woven, sealed blind for the innocence. People are more than what meets the eye. Trust is meant to be earned and yet I leave all the cards in their hands. I'm fond of the game and they're masters at play.

Emotions are merely face masks that are submerged in one's soul. You don't get to see the the realness in anyone. If you pulled out soul it would have nothing to reflect rather stygian. Arcane clad, a loom of lurid appearance you get hypnotised. Do you remember the first time you fell for the trap? Even as little, you were promised of certain things, never really having attained. You learnt, promises are meant to be broken but never really fathomed the depth.


Promises  meant  be   because  are
               are        to   broken    people  broken.

If you stared at them you'll witness the vehement sinner lurking behind those black hole eyes siphoning to a forever land. Whatever they tell you they are, is a blatant lie.

I try to burn those pages but the magic ink never dies. Even in ashes it dances, it mocks my nature to get attached. Not once or twice but many times and still hoping to unravel the burried world.

I'm the Mad Hatter lost in bacchanal. Deluge of bedlam I incarcerated, running in circles of endless time loops.

I'm Tom Riddle's diary, that can engulf, take you down the chamber of secrets. And yet I'm denied the same privilege when it comes to explore them.

They're the "Boggart" taking forms each time a new. I could cast a "RIDDIKULUS" spell but they feed on the nothingness.

Some things change and inanely some things remain the same. You detach your soul a while, you try to neuro transmit those realisation cells causing to swell up in pool of thoughts.

You ponder over "WHY" but settle for "IT IS WHAT IT IS". But some things allude IT IS NOT WHAT IT IS.  

People don't undulate on your terms. It takes too many Lucifer's fall to crash land on earth and understand the nature of evil. But in the mean time you still hover, lost in touch with reality and in that moment, the factual question brims up


                       REALLY    
                        
                YOU            KNOW
                
           ­   DID                      ANY
              
                  ­                   ONE
                                    
                              AT
                              
­                             ALL
                            
                                ?

Looks can be deceiving.
Have you ever thought words can be too?

We pull our strings of feelings
practice notes of thoughts
tongued instrument, voice our tunes
A low whisper moan in love or
A high pitch screech of temper,
words as our lyrics.
We sing out loud to our beloved
Anything to make them fall
Anything to make them hum our memories
We are the musicians; broken.

We wisely select certain metaphors
and draft them meticulously
A love note in secret codes
A promise to set them free
A devised illusion of a trap
to cage our exotic bird
in the name of love.
From,
You. Me.
You and me
Us
You vs me
Me. You.
We've become poets
Feeding rotten love and
Breathing stale memories.
We are the poets; poisoned.

We pull out the plain surface
draw our words in pictures
paint them in hues of bleeding red
Everytime you make love
you leave them stained, imprints
on their skin to celebrate the art.
words in art.
words in pain.
We are the artists; con.

We pick out the nature's remains  
garnish seasoned lies
a delicacy to relish
to savour the moment
suiting our taste buds
Sugarcoat to our sweet tooth
***** bitter truth when repulsed
Sour words there after to keep them away
We are the chefs; drunk.

We advertise false hopes
sell some fancy stories
content of curatively crafted words
to attract customers for tomorrowland
Exquisite price and promotions
and we rely solely on profits
to receive more than given
Everything is a business with
terms and conditions attached
we always fail to check.
And the Disclaimer:
Emotional investments are subjected to
system damage risk.
Read all related documents carefully.
We are the marketers; fraud.

We plead guilty when needy
Swear an oath "Nothing but the truth"
Bail out when cards have been dealt
Claim "The right to remain silent"
Who's right and who's not
It's my words against yours
We are the lawyers; unjust.

Words, the primal instinct of our transmission,
to interact, to bond and
with it we either build or rupture it all.
Words don't just roll out your tongue
they're servants to your thoughts and
slave to your emotions.
But what are words when we don't really mean them?
Word is a lifetime.
Like seasons
budding to blossom to fall.
Lifetime of our connection.
When we cease to exist
so are the words and promises.

Talk isn't cheap, words are.
We are the words
gone with the wind.

Perhaps love's too fragile that the word weighs strong.

- Love me more in the pretty lies you unfold.