That girl sitting there
is a beautiful tragedy
her mind is an aghast
her body
is her grave
her bones
ache
while her throat is being strangled
whats wrong with her mind
cant ever be untangled.
she,
is a beautiful tragedy

Red lights
Your love filled gaze through
The window of car
Still following me

On shining
With your magic stick
of writing
To create a piece for
the heart you are looking for

Today at night
See the moon
to catch the reflection of love rays coming from her heart land

Moon itself wait for her beauty to brighten up it's face

Food in the kitchen

Finding ingredients for

The recipe of poem

Had thrown all litter of broken love in dustbin
in front of me

She gave me a hug
Then she was smiling and feeling light

What have I become?
How did I end up here?
What did I do to deserve this?

Being a poet
is both a pain and a privilege.

All you do is
bleed your emotions
on a thousand pages
while people sing your praises
for ages.