what if there was no war,
no uncanny screaming of the aghast,
no blasphemy of the past ,
nobody had to breathe their last,
No ******* ten years old,
with a vestbomb as their told,
to wear it
As 'their allah  sees it,
how young and bold they are.
No shedding of the tears,
from the eyes that waits ,
for their father and brothers,
and fears that last ,
No blood that shall gear from their mass.
What if there was no soldier to die ,
only You and I,
Together end this solemn execution of the nicer soul,
and be bold enough to give them hope,
draping them in brightest colors of life
and solicit the world to be in it.
What if...............nevermind
These are hoax with no light,
They probably are somewhere in the dark,
For there they would always bark

I would rather smoke some cigarettes than be with you,
For it is better to die in pain
rather than dying in love.
For you it is a game,
a juxtaposition of our dimmer love,
And you would **** me
For some meat.
The dawn wouldn't break
If we don't get away,
Cause it's a concussion
That I am experiencing now,
For our love in now in a ghetto,
Never to be opened,
For "our love" is just a word now.
I would rather smoke some cigarettes than be with you,
And expell the love from within my heart,
And poison it with disgust and hate
And go away from light to the dark

My questions are not with you,
But existence that consist me,
As matter of fact "I" a single syllable,
That defies me more than you,
that steadily declined it's emphasis to fill the everlonging void of expectancy within you.
My sentences don't starts with I but you
With changing faces but constant adverbs.

Yes it is mandatory for me to smoke,
and I should do that quite often.
If words to speak are less
and love has been a hoax,
moving with the sway of wind,
  blind as Harry Potter's cloak,
that I have never seen a knife,
  so blunt to stab my heart,
Then yes I need to smoke,
at least ten cigarettes a day.
For it is hard for me to unfold,
  the wraps of your memoirs around me,
the moonlit smile of your lips,
slithered down gently on mine,
like the night sky was now complete
  with its stars.
Do you recall those days?
do you.
Probably not,
  because you were busy finding,
the parched soul that needs *** drops,
  In a bed that I made love
and you just had *** on
  you were blind,
you  had forgotten
  what it meant
to say, someone, I love you
  and act upon by being physical,
and so I smoke,
  because I loved a girl,
who was pious in her heart,
  who laughed like a child,
who flew with the wind,
   who I knew had a dream
and no desire.

Oh...  Here you are, alas.
I was in this misinterpretation,
that somewhat your arrival at this house of past, might haunt you.
And so your arrival was nothing more than a myth to me.
But no, you have proved me wrong like you always did.
Did you notice the wall, I knew you had a fascination for the limbo, draped with the designs of floral, more of pink and less of the blue I guess??
See, I told ya, I knew ya,
But you never removed the blindfold of cheat and latched onto his charms.
He surely was the bagpiper of your heart.
Speaking of the bagpiper how is he??
Your love...
Is he still having his floral print shirt and blue coat on, the day you left with him?
He is way more good looking than me
Tall as his righteousness, tanned as the king, mustache rounded up to the nexus,  Aryan featurette to the peak, and money spoke more than he himself.
God,  I knew your love... the song your heart played.
My heart did play some music but mostly it was the song of remembrance.
Was I even half of what he is??
I don't know...  But I did lose the only woman that I thought I had gripped.
And yes you have proved me wrong as you have always done.
I was hardly a man like him, and I knew for myself that I would hardly keep you the way, he might.
But that said my love for you, my dearest ex-wife, would not die.
Even though, while you read this, and I might be sleeping in my tomb,
You will hear the presence of my voice in this room.
Yes, the room,  where you and I were about to share a bed.
That might not change,  I told the painter to keep it as it is,  
Sometimes fondling with your scar might set you to feel right.
Oh, by the way,  you told me to frame the windowpane wood,  and so I did.
It was hard to tell my niece that you left...
She really loved you and felt it when she called you chotoma..
I feel bad for him.
I know that ma is no more on talking terms with you...  She will be fine as the day passes by...  You know she lost a son and my brother is all she has now...
Just give her some time.
My letter is at its finest,  it's just the one thing I had to say..  If any day you think of coming to my tomb,  please bring a hibiscus in my name.

I know I drink too much,
I know I speak of you everytime,
I know it was my fault,
I know you could have been mine,
I know I didn't say you things that should have been told,
I know that I wasn't too bold to face you,
because of the diffrences that we had,
Because you my lady were a scholar,
And I was a backseat lad.
Days didn't go by,
Years wasn't counted,
seeing you and the sun shine,
I don't how many layers of feelings have been mounted,
stay still girl...As your hair trembles down'
to lashes of your eyes,
your dimples on your cheeks,
the curvature of your smile,
they all are like the full litted moon,
on the backdrop of my night.
You see I drink too much,
And yes I do speak of you everytime,
And I love you too much ,
for you to have been mine

I tried to play my guitar,
literally having *** with it.
My baby who moaned as her strings,
are the hairs I brush it with my fingers.
She moaned the tunes of death,
gently I heard her whispers in my ears.
I kissed it with my low voice,
to match my thoughts with my fears.
I tried to play my guitar,
Her lust is an awe.
She lets me forget the springs in summers,
She lets me forget the dawn.
My soul is her moaning,
that I don't want to get it lost.
That's why I tried to ****** my guitar,
AS I WOULD DO IT TO A BLONDE.

So subtle was the messenger's words,
I am no prophecy,
But an enclosed letter with words of ardent sadness.
I am no Human either,
I meant to say you the perspective.
I am no bird no animal,
not even the oxygen you breathe,
I am no woman you lust for,
in your lucid ******* dream.
I am just the truth that time has sent me to creed.
for you pray your god for your good ,
blame him for your curse.
The lies you see through,
the rumors like cheese lands that you spread.
I am no mesiah sent by your god.
I am the words that time has entitled me to breach

I long for the long road
The road that leads home,
The roads that leads to my lane,
The lane where I played cricket with my friend,
The lane that has history I kept,
The lane that holds memories for stories to tell,

I long for the long road,
The long road that leads to you,
The you I missed,
The you whom I shared my kiss,
The you who would go beyond bliss,
For I know the long road, my friend,
I craved for this.

"The cacophony you've been making is no worth to mine"
  I know I am your stealing your time,
"No you are stealing my life".
  Yes, and it is true,
As if the choice that I made with ******* and ****,
  Is what I have done and what I take,
with pleasure and pace.
"you have never said you have been ***** before,
  No of course not,
"Cause you won't believe that either "
With all that said coming from a liar,
And all I been subjugated prior.
And all that I said,
That a guy I thought was my friend,
Had his hands all over my body unwanted to be hold,
And all that you said was so stone cold
"A man does that thing to another man be bold"
laughing out like the like another cigar puffed and smoked.
And they would bleed me through my nose,
If I revolt ,
As if I had no right,
to fight,
or be heard,
or cry.
"Cry" sounds like a curse,
Bidden into man from birth,
like a weakness that no man can bear.
So a liar who's been ***** must be draped to bear
the stake,
Cause a man liar should be *****

Love changed overnight
And he does'nt feel it now.
The boy who onced dreamed
Of ushering a kiss to
A girl with creamed lips,
Who danced in the rain
Reading lines that intertwines
With love is now smoking cigarettes
With his damped distilled lips.
As if love was what he never wanted
but trust me, this man who was once mad in love is now on the other end of the **** waiting to ******* the pain to a ******* he hired for the night to make it more likely a insomaniac one.
He who wanted his soul to be fixed,  
By the woman with whom he made tryst with, which is worthless to one tiring soul, who has given more than a heart to be torn like the wet paper boat, desolate in raindrops of tears,
Is now the guy who working for his rehabilitation.
He who forget that there is more than his heart which he never felt,
That there is a mother who is madly in love with a boy who she fed her breast to,
That there is a man who has done everything with empty torn pockets and half eaten bread for him to be a man who he wish to,
That there is a girl and a boy who he promised to protect for the etenity of time he had in this planet when he was a mere toddler.
For there is a friend who made it through with the times which were agonizingly painful to bear it with his cold heart.
And yet he forget that love that he seizes to blind is there to be seen if his eyes were never shut for eternity at all.

I dig deep into
the aghast of past
A blasphemy of prudence.
A heart starved for your trust,
but none the less I break,
You distant yourself
Like the waves that never reached the shore.
I hear the bells as the spoke these melancholy,
through the whispers like winds on swift swords edge.
for i would lose you time and again
because you would trust with your trust issue

Here is the man,
Who saw the world.
Felt it change,
From this to that.
Saw a man,
Change his hat.
Seen his life,
On a tight rope dance.
Seen people,
change their color.
Have seen flowers,
Blossom in December.
Seen the world,
Met some people,
Heard the story,
And aged like mapple.
He knows it all,
And he is glad,
He is seen the journey,
From being a son to dad.

Penning my pain down
The dozen feet of blank pages
Here with the smudged ink
broken dream and crying clown faces.
I seek for love
and love ditches
I am now a torn jeans
with thousand stitches.
I am a drag queen
the untamed lavender
I am the jolted man
The poised scavenger.
I am under toned underdog
who is low with barks
I am the kid all jolly
chirping with larks.
I tend to be down
In the thousand dreams town
I inherit the habit
of ******* **** clowns.
I was born out of this city
live life in pity
Now the only place for me is my hometown.