the only thing
we require
is escape.



when we
struggle,
when we
fail,
when we
are sad,
when we
are hopeless,
when we are
feeling worthless;
and whatever.



Hope is not what we feel
but need urgently.
It is not something
we have
and
it is not
something we earn.


It is something we come to realize
when our struggle reaches
off limits.
Only few can sense it,
many lose it,
little ones keep it
and
continue to struggle,
to win just
some day
as they see it
possibly.



When you have hope,
Even the word 'impossible'
is I'm possible.

there is that kind of war
between my head and heart
where I am torn in between myself.


I try my best to keep calm
to keep moving but
that suffocation ruins me
that loneliness ruins me
that silent scream pushes me
down
that silent tear threatening to come out
won't stop at some point


I try & try
to keep these tears to myself
those silent weeps at night
the calm and serene sound of my
choked tears
give me pleasure
that no one can see me.

I badly want to vanish
I badly want to disappear
I badly want to end everything
I am tired of fighting
I am hating to fall down


but when everything is in chaos
I wipe my pain
let my heart win
take tough decisions
and stand back up to move on
and live
instead of ending myself



because
living is bravery.

Given the thousands reason
to break down,
we all do break and crush
at some point of
our life.



Hopeless, useless & worthless
is what our life feels like
when the breakdown
happens.



But somehow we sleep
and go into deep sleep.
Next day, we get up
reluctantly
still plan our day ahead.



This is called hope
which is sometimes all
we need to
survive.

I just sit in my room,
Thinking of those darker nights.


Two voices talk to me;
one is the saver and angelic,
other is the demon.


Monsters and demons play inside my head,
requesting to hurt myself all the time.


There is only one thing repeating;
Just hurt yourself already,
so much that you will walk away from everyone.

Mystery is a mystifying creation within us,
it runs in our blood.
No matter how much we know a person,
no matter how much of open book a person is,
there still lies lies a part of them which we never discover.



Our philosophical heart inside our head,
gives us the pool and hole where all the emotions lie.
That hole is the black hole inside our head,
filled with infinitesimal emotions,
uncountable number of thoughts,
different plans which remain secret from the world.




The secret of universe holds the multiple personality,
that we come up with,
according to what life offers us.



There lies the 'real' us,
which remains hidden from everyone,
a secret between us and us only.



We cover the universe,
using the pretty sparkling stars,
called the smiles,
called the tears,
called the anger,
around our loved ones.




Our soul is the universe,
our emotions and feelings are the black holes,
I am the universe,
you only know a only part of me.

Crying at night
slow tears falling
from both eyes,
loneliness & hollowness
is what she
felt.

Unexpressed, unsaid
imprinted the
scar of the
suffocation
on her soul.


She was a girl
struggling the
desperation to
find happiness
to feel content.


Blessed, blissful life
loving people;
she had everything
yet this emptiness.


But she goes through
tears, wakes up
everyday,
a brand new morning
giving her the hope
to smile.


Tears being worth her
fight at
night.

we know
"empty vessel sounds a lot,"
it has so much space within itself
that it reflects back
what it hears.



my mind is also the empty vessel,
wanting to be empty,
which is not exactly empty.



millions,
thousands,
hundreds,
few,
many,
deep,
dark,
thoughts cross all limits.
they just fill up the space in my mind,
making me sure of
that
I am not empty,
my mind
and my soul are just lonely.



no one to stand by the side,
no one to tell how hard it is to fight,
no one to guide through the
darkest hours,
no one to know how much it hurts,
to have
two voices telling
million of things.



Even if those many thoughts cross
my mind,
still it is not filled,
nothing comes to the mouth,
to speak,
to express,
nothing comes to the eyes,
to look at,
to cry;
my mind is just like an empty shell.

Just because she smiles,
all the time;
Does not mean that
she never feels the pain.


The smile is the mask,
Behind the mask,
Lies somewhat an ugly monster.


Behind the mask,
lies a broken person,
hidden from you and me.


Behind the mask,
lies the painful tears,
which are silent,
unheard by us.


Behind the mask,
lies the unspoken and unexpressed words,
of her inner soul,
full of foul.


Behind the mask,
there is 'she',
there is broken person.

ever thought
about
how our thoughts
look like

they might be black
they might be white
they may be blank


but
one thing is clear
that;
they're hurtful
they know
******* a
person inside


they always play double games
on our mind;
one is good
one is bad
making us to fight
a war
within
ourselves



we never
deserve
suffering
but they do
make us suffer



oh! look at how,
dark those
thoughts are
yesterday,
today ,
tomorrow,
they **** us inside
day by day
hour by hour
minute by minute
second by second
everyday.

They say;
monsters live under our bed.
They say;
demons live outside our house,
alluring in the darkness of night.


They taught us;
if we don't go into sleep,
monsters are going to hunt us down,
in our childhood.
They also taught;
demons will knock at our windows,
will capture us,
if we don't eat.


What we were not taught was,
Monsters live inside our head,
not under our bed.

What we never saw,
Until we faced them,
that;
demons are woven in our souls.


They control our mind,
They control our thoughts.
They control US.

They say that time heals,
our pain,
our memories,
our soul,
our emotions.



Time heals none of us,
it never makes our pain fade away,
it never makes us fade away,
like our pain or memories.



Second by second,
minute by minute,
hour by hour,
day by day,
we deal and feel,
with the pain every day.



As the time passes by,
the memories never fade,
but they do become faint slowly,
we learn to deal with it.


Time never heal,
but we just learn how to deal.

In the corner of my head
I cannot feel my smile reaching my ears.
In the back of my head,
I know what it is.
The lingering sensation,
The left overs of these ruined feelings.
The feelings that are isolating
Yet so alive


The feelings of lingering loneliness
are very beautiful.

This is a common dialogue;
'giving up'
At some point, we all do follow this.


In life,
In love,
Among family,
Among friends,
within us.



They say that not giving up is an art.
Not giving up shows our strong will power.
Continuing for not giving up is strength.



Sometimes, giving up is the strongest art form.
This form of art represents the size of our heart,
our willingness to let things go.


Giving up does not mean that,
we are weak.
It just shows that,
in many cases,
we are strong enough
and
have big heart enough,
to let things go.

we all have that skill,
a skill which can overcome any burden.


so, just smile.

what hunts you in reality,
may not be there in your sleeps.


what hurts you in reality,
vanishes when you go to sleep.


but sometimes,
it all comes back in the sleep,
as the nightmare.



those moments relived in there,
they give the tremors to my body.


they make me afraid to go back into sleep,
they make my normality vanish,
maybe I am going insane
or they will make me insane.



Loneliness,
difficulty,
fear inside,
everything crosses you,
when the reality
visits you in
your
nightmare.

One day my dream
was you,
to play
and
wash all my sorrows away.


I knew you'll be
my escape from
the harsh reality.


No matter how much I despised my life,
no matter how many cuts I wanted on my wrist,
they all dissolved,
when I started playing you.



You awaken the dream in me,
you make the confident in me alive,
you save me from myself.



This is all I want to say,
my dear,
lovely,
Guitar.

Crying
makes us
emotional.
Love
gives us
Feelings.
Dissatisfaction
gives us
Anger.
Expectations
hurt.



We want our life,
as we know it.
We want everything to
follow the way we want it.

But every time we fail,
it is not the life we know anymore.


Our life is the way we know it,
but
we are the only ones,
who can make it happen,
the way we want it to be.

in the bright light,
we still feel the darkness.


in the warmness of sun,
we still feel the coldness inside.


in the crowd,
we still feel lonely.


in the air with oxygen rich,
we still feel suffocated.


in the sea of people,
in which we can swim,
we still see ourselves drowning,
while all are breathing.



this emptiness of my heart,
inside my soul,
makes me inhumane,
and
insane.