I've been told to write happier posts,
Of gleaming sheep and daffodils.
So hear me sing of all things good,
Like the colour green and picking toads.

But the happiest bit that I can find,
Is the mortal state of our lonesome life.
The bright light at the end of the tunnel,
The gift of death and end to sorrows.

Those living amongst us are often quite dead.
A conundrum of listlessness in the monotony of human affairs.

Death's the prettiest form of love,
Eternal, quiet and forever alone.

No doubt still lingers, no unsure thoughts,
No insecurities of the skin or ****** flaws.

The warming embrace of death's cold hands,
Like the running of blood on the thick of the scalp.

The reaper's love is equally shared,
Between the prettiest madden and the toad faced fille de joie.

It's the eternal lure, the poet's device,
To ensure the pit stays, full of life. (metaphorically)

The silence is binding, and temptingly so,
For love is purest without any words.

A hush whisper seemed to be floating around the airport. As if spoken in a language only for the fairer ***, the women spoke to women as the men pretended not to hear.

A swanky new airport with all the amenities one could wish for coffee shops, restaurants, clothes shops and even a spa but the one thing they didn't have, the one thing which you'd expect to be more obvious than even air-conditioning would be a sanitary napkin dispenser. But then what would you expect in a country where the most progressive fem-care brand calls their highest selling product whisper instead of always.

Let the taboo roll on.

I'm a conduit of your love,
A vessel for your heart,
A passageway to forever,
Until our next together.

Perilously, pensively yet properly,
The good morning text left my phone,
Another day, another world of unhappiness,
The blue planet is taking itself too literally.

So sad, so sad is probably the happiest song I've heard in a while,
There's something to be said about mixing depressing lyrics with happy beats.
Like cherry flavored poison served as an Apéritif.

The sharp and blinding pain unlike any physical hurt, made to feel like a cadaver on a dissection table. It is getting hard to breath, the air seems to escape my lungs quicker than I can inhale.

Each morning, a painful wake filled with hopes and expectations shattered by the everyday diffidence of existence. Unread. Still. Unheard. His voice keeps falling to deaf ears.

Pain has become beautiful through poetry, through painting, through sculptures. But there is no beauty in this fear. There is no beauty in lost hope and lost love. Where is she?

An hour in a second. The clockstopper ruins my sleep. The insomniac and I are best friends. We talk about god as the devil's favorite white coat. I'm living lives death cannot seem to find. I beckon him, pleading yet the road lies undiscovered. There is darkness that even Hades fires cannot light.

I get up and pull on the face that I stole. I feel its alcohol ridden stench. It feels odd as I practice a smile within it. It seems familiar, I've seen it since birth. But its not mine. It belonged to a happier man.

Walk with me,
On this moon-kissed night,
And I'll keep you safe,
Always.

My demon spoke,
As on my shoulder he rode,
Escape is just one life away

That empty feel,
That grows inside.
The dying thought,
Of living each night.

The painful scream,
Of the morning light,
The awful moan,
Of the moonlit night.

The howling shriek,
Of the silent night.
It's all the music,
I dance to in life.

Loneliness is company,
My superhuman might.
Emptiness in meadows,
Where the sun never shines.

The mask of life,
Is all I know,
The borrowed smile,
My burden to hold.

Eternity keeps me awake,
Each and every night.
Tomorrow lies years away,
When monsters hide inside.

The amber light,
In the darkened room.
A silhouette,
Of me and you.

As two dark shadows,
Synchronize,
In a dance of passion,
While the bodies lie.

The heated room,
Has come alive,
As the lovers swim,
Into the night divine.

The bodies shiver,
Into a tighter hug,
As the shadows quiver,
With the waltz of love.

Passion they say,
Never sleeps,
Love they know,
Is forever on its feet.

These two lovers,
Will never know,
As their bodies tire,
The souls never slow.

A scratch from the thorn,
Of the ****** rose,
The price of love,
Isn't measured in gold.

An escape from the labyrinth,
Of lovers forgot,
Loneliness is release,
When death comes from the heart.

I saw flowers of colours,
The names of which I didn't know,
I saw pretty girls,
Swooning over the black and the gold.

A painted beauty,
A premonition of joy,
The gleeful smiles,
The heartfilled cry.

The old and the new,
Married for happiness,
Married for two.
The happy ever after,
In the bride's changing room.

Past all that noise,
Silence found a way back home,
Through passive souls, and lovers lost,
Quiet had found a muse in being alone.

The purple haze,
A shade too dark,
As day loses it's light.

Darkness falls,
Throughout the world,
An ode to lost love tonight.

I see the waves,
From oceanless lands,
A mirage, a beautiful lie.

I see the distance,
And see no end,
An endless void, the fright.

The crest and trough,
Of this quite song,
Love lost to sight.

A teardrop falls,
The building blocks,
Of salty bodies of life.

Before I became a son,
Before I became a brother,
Before I became a boyfriend,
I became a citizen.

A member of this glorious republic,
A brethren of a religious majority,
A student of an ideology far beyond my understanding,
A disciple of the right way.

A cacophony of wisdom,
Unwanted yet gained.
The more I learned,
The less I understood.

The rights and wrongs,
Like Upanishads and Vedas,
My role was set,
Through religion and gender.

But as the giants spoke,
Like gospels their truth,
It was the voice of the unheard,
That in me grew.

Even today,
I don't always know right from wrong,
Yet I'm taught by my betters,
That giants always fall.

My sister, my mother,
My better half together,
Guide me, direct me,
Ensure I don't slip through the large societal faults.

The world that we live in,
Is biased and grey.
But all it takes is a spark,
A voice to blow the dust away.

Rummaging through a library lost,
I found scripts long foregone.
A language made emotionless,
With words of letters and alphabets.

Yet poetry seeped,
Undiluted nor turned.
A sonnet of passion,
A hymn of love.

The rawness of words,
Not quite understood.
The barrier of language,
Not quite set onto.

An idiot speak,
So simply spoke.
A world of words,
Discovered without.

A simpler time,
For simpler minds.
Where oxford didn't,
Define my love.

The unknown faces,
It's always the unknown faces.
I'm petrified to say hi,
What would they think.

Who am I?
Really, who am I?
I've known me for 30 years,
But I'm surprised everytime I meet myself.

Now I've known you,
The melancholy of us.
We were perfectly depressed,
But happy together is unknown.

Who are you?
I've seen you so often.
You were my shoulder,
And I yours, but who are we now?

Dry eyed I don't really know you,
Hi I'm happy.
I've known you,
But I'd love to really meet you.

As much beauty,
In her shadows,
As in her light,
New York hides nothing.

There truly is no magic,
As the magic,
Of walking down Broadway at 2am
And feeling like it's 4 in the afternoon.

It ***** you in,
And draws your breath away.
The city's a siren,
Ever luring, ever lovely.

You can lose you heart,
To New York and in New York.
But rest be sure,
She will break you,
Before she loves you.

So hold your breath,
And do as always done.
Make that promise,
The eternal vow,
More powerful than any I do,
And say, 'till we meet again'.
For it's never a goodbye.

I miss the monster under my bed,
My confidant, my best friend.
I miss the loud tapping on the floor,
The banging doors in an empty home.

I miss the peaceful sleep,
In the haunted home,
Where curtains moved,
Without the help of the wind.

I miss the fear of senseless things,
The haunting beats that made me sing.
I miss the irrational fears and frights,
The ghosts in sheets that I seek to find.

For now my fears don't go away,
With just the cover of the sheets.
The beasts are real and hauntingly so,
They dare to even call you on the phone.

They live on mails and in machines,
Manifesting into unrealistic realities.
In timelines and deadlines and charts of sorts,
The monsters sometimes take human forms.

They sympathise and empathise,
And sometimes even shed a tear.
They tell you how to live your life,
And **** you with every word.

I miss the monster under my bed,
My confidant, my best friend.

A side bar with myself,
A conversation lost between mes',
Heaven conversing with the ground below,
I found poetry in the distance.

Those three steps were the longest,
An eternity between each leap,
A sonet written between each pace,
Poetry at its best.

You held me together,
You broke me loose,
You added semblance,
To a chaotic world.

But words are cruel,
Like the whips of hades,
A slash, a ****,.
And you destroyed me completely.

I love you, I'm scared,
I'm not too proud to admit it,
Yet that's my flaw,
My undoing in this escapade.

I'm losing you,
I'm losing me,
I can't be what I should be.

Just one more step,
A left or right,
It'll make all the difference,
Between poetry sung or to recite.

I'm weak I fear,
That's why you'll read these words,
A tragedy,
Isn't always with physical casualties.

Candle lit dinner,
She was not herself,
Yawn, he was.

Those bridge​s.
Defiant, sure and ******.
The red lines defined by every move, every emotion, every tear drop.
Her eyes spoke the stories, if only he knew how to read.

My hair and I don't talk anymore.
It's really quite sad because we were quite insightful together.
But now, the long mop is growing awry.
He no longer complements me.
He's made a mockery of my style.
My hair, I can safely say, hates me.

We tried counseling at the nearby parlor,
The counselor goes by the name of the barber.
he chopped at the problems and tried to make things right.
But the difference grew right back.
My hair's indifference to me is blinding.
I mean, I literally can't see!

We decided it was time to spice things up.
Bring back some excitement. By bringing another in the equation.
The gel, our saviour. The hero of our time.
This ******* was love unlike any other kind.

The moral of this story, is still a bit hairy.
Sort of like why beauty fell for the beast.

Let's be reckless, selfish and all around greedy.
Let's hold the world hostage to our whims and fancies.
Let's be fanatically in love and unabashedly lustful.
Let's do all that in life makes us seem disrespectful.
Let's throw a party like the Fitzgeralds.
From money stolen from working class *******.
Let's be the villains in someone's boring love story.
Let's redefine love to a psychotic new level.

Swayed.
So easily swayed by your words.
Like a leaf against a gush of wind.
I’ll ride your words wherever they take me.

Rooted.
So firmly rooted in your thoughts.
Like the grip of an elder-tree to the ground.
Your thoughts are all that the world is perceived by me.

Flight.
Soaring high in your creativity.
Like a bird out of view up in the wandering blue.
You’ll design my world in all its glory and gore.

Hurt.
So painfully hurt by your silence.
Like no feeling that can be described.
You’ll **** me beautifully with just your silence.

My biggest lie,
Is my image at work.
An industrious being.
A diligent soul.

I shower my hours,
Like sprinkles on candy.
To an office that shuts,
Its doors on my feet.

The brainwashed child,
Of the lazy generation,
We're expected to overcompensate,
For their misbehaven.  

The life we live,
For a plaque and a desk,
The **** we take,
For a life of unrest.

They sell us dreams,
We can't afford,
Then make us slaves,
To free our souls.

The man is evil,
An awful beast.
He tells you how to live,
So buy us to break free.

The world is polluted,
There is no respite.
Every passion bought,
Every dream's got a price.

So punch those keys,
And get back to work.
Let's be frank,
It's the devil's world.

On the final mile,
To the road back home,
You will find,
The prettiest ghosts.

As they wiped away the last drop of blood, they thanked the lord for giving them the strength to rid the world of such an abomination as a daughter.

Up above, a smile crossed his face as he added another two to his list. God was the Devil's greatest creation.

Push that bully,
Down the hole.
Let him grow,
All alone.

Ostracize that fool,
Till he beats no more.
Shut him up,
Let no sound out.

Ignore the bully,
As you grow.
Make sure,
He sees no hope.

Let no light shine,
Let no song rise,
Let no birds chirp,
Let darkness burn.

Push the bully,
Shut him up.
Silent that heart,
Don't let it fall in love.

She slips into the cracks,
So often I feel,
I no longer know,
If whom I'm talking to is real.

Her fictitious home,
***** her in,
Her books add floors,
Cemented by dreams.

She stares at ceilings,
And sees worlds breath,
The quite in her room,
Makes death question his being.

She looks at me,
As she sips her coffee,
She's never seen me,
In the mist of that coffee.

I try to see the world,
Through her eyes,
God would be jealous,
Of the universe that lies.

Her dreams tangible,
The world where she lives,
She's made me real,
Or made my reality slip.

Her body so slender,
The curves define perfection,
She's the coolness in summer,
The woman's a cucumber.

Goodnight she whispered,
As she went to bed,
Good morning he yawned,
As dawn did break.

He nudged her awake,
With breakfast in bed,
He showered her with love,
She was all he needed.

She thanked the stars,
That shone so bright,
Oddly enough,
In the noon day light.

She walked with him,
To wherever she liked,
There was no hurry,
Time was on their side.

But up ahead,
In the distance she saw,
Sandman waited,
To escort her home.

And with a sigh,
She kissed him sweet,
It was his time to lie,
As life called her in beats.

The dream was over,
The bed was lonesome,
A few more hours,
Till she became more wholesome.

And as she walked,
To mundane life chores,
A star above,
For no astrological reason shone.

We circle around in our heads,
In an infinite loop,
Between love and sadness and happiness and hate.
Like a clock with no hours,
Just seconds ticking by,
To nowhere, to no time.
Just the rhythmic,
Tick Tock Tick Tock Tick Tock.
Time holds no value,
To a man who's got no place to be.

A man got lost in the thick of the city,
A forest of people or the walking trees,
He wandered around, for hours and days,
Yet couldn't find the moss to guide his ways.

He looked up at the stars,
Looking for direction,
But all he saw,
Was the light of delusion.

Our man was no hero,
Nor a person of the people.
He knew what he learned,
Through his own deductions.

No signboards guiding,
No hotspots lighting,
Just a lost sense of direction,
The type that leads to conclusion.

And through these lost days,
Did our anti-hero find,
His unpaved road,
His route home.

You see that moon,
It's ours to conquer.
Through mystic battles,
With creatures undiscovered.

You'll swing the sword,
I'll pull the bow.
And together we'll find,
The stairway of gold.

So armor on,
And look up at the night,
While we may not be together,
We've got the moon in our eyes.

She jumped from the sun,
And landed on the moon.
The galaxy her playground.

The celestial being,
The goddess of love,
His nightly worship star.

The universe too small,
She defied all its laws,
And shone too bright to see.

No man could touch,
Her perfect lay,
The dipper in the night.

And as he walked,
The same lost road,
To see her one more time.

He knew her love,
For him was naught,
For immortality was royal.

The pharaoh's love,
He braved to try,
As she sat with her kind.

But this love story,
With blood does end,
As he whispered a last goodnight.

While playing hopscotch in the rain,
And evading puddly terrains,
A lava lake did appear,
That needed to be cleared.

With spewing monsters of soot,
The princess waited for you.
And through the mucky ways,
You make a grand escape.

Only to be taken over,
By a deep craves you couldn't cover.
The monsters won this round,
But only till the next rainfall of imagination does fall down.

Down the yellow brick road,
I found a little-lost soul.
Who guided me down a rabbit hole.
To face a time before I met you.
And there in the darkness,
I saw his face,
The broken me,
The soul who's heart didn't yet beat.

Somewhere fate and fault crossed,
And it landed him in her path.
He never used a map again.

In the second their eyes met,
A world was formed.
One of absolute chaos and destruction,
The other of life and semblance.
In the second they looked at each other,
A universe was created and destroyed.

Through a prayer,
I saw your face,
And that was rather funny,
Cause a religious man,
I am not,
I don't believe in the holy beast.

I heard your name,
In a long sung Hymn,
It sounded rather sweet.
But that is odd,
Cause my sweet lord,
A Psalm I can't perceive.

The holy wine,
Caused me to dial,
You at your hour of sleep.
But then again,
It's the strangest thing,
Because only tea's what I fancy.

The lord speaks,
To me in tongues,
About your great beauty.
And the strangest bit,
Is God's my trick,
My favorite devilish feat.

A witchers walk,
On the sleepless hollow,
I did bring to you.
On a long dark trail,
In the middle of the night,
When you thought me done and through.

A simple spell,
In a simpler way,
I did cast on you.
The word for which,
No mortal can sing,
Without a pensive groove.

LOVE is simply,
A wonderful thing,
Like bees and bears and schools.
LOVE is simply,
An immaculate thing,
Like a coroners sheet and tools.

LOVE flowers,
In a meadow of despair,
Everytime I see you.
LOVE flows,
Like a poisoned Sake
That insanity sees through.

So in my spell,
Forever you'll stay,
Eternity will pass through.
In a glance,
Without your will,
I'll forever be with you.

A book?
A book!
A book!
A book.

Sometimes, he really didn't make any sense to her.
But she was sure, she didn't make any sense to him either.

She had asked him for a solution to a predicament. He answered with a question of his own.

There eccentricities were boggling, to people and to minds like the white spots around your eyes or the colour violet.

There was a point he was building upto, she was sure. Well not sure, hopeful really.

"So why a book?" She asked?
"Why not?" He answered!
"How would a book help me with my existential crisis?"
"Well, a book has been credibly established to allow people to travel through time. So how does one derive the question to 42? By a book of course. How does one spend 5 hours in 4 minutes? With a book! When the questions are more elusive than the answers, read a story taller than the empire state building. And you'll probably fly through existentiality, well of one form at least. Books are what make sure that time doesn't remain linear, but rather flows like a twizzler in a baby's hand."

"That was so nonsensical it actually made a little sense", she thought. She'd never tell him of course, his head was inflated enough already.

"So", he continued, "Read a book, and I'll read with you. And maybe we'll find the question to your question in the blink of that naked surety you find in the split second of absolute consciousness between the pages."

Her wings folded,
As she called it quits.
Another night for the angel,
Who the world called the devil.

Instructions for use,
'Apply on face every morning'
She applied a liberal portion of happiness,
It was her last hope.

Whisky tasted bitter.
Darkness found her hold.
Even hate seemed incomplete without you.

Your hair fell in streams of black,
Against your naked body.
Covering only your bare back,
I'd never seen such beauty.

The bones on your cheeks,
Held a smile so true.
Your eyes so wide,
That I dreamed through you.

I'd paint you a picture,
If words wouldn't do,
I'd bring you your desires,
And walk through flames for you.

I'd stay with you longer,
Than life would care to do.
In this life or another,
I'd always be there for you.

So hold my hand,
And catch my heart,
As I take the leap,
This deep dive fall.

A painted blue,
Above our eyes.
With a patch of hue,
Of Grey and White.

The perfect green,
With no brown spots,
Lies at our feet,
As we lay down.

A perfect lay,
On that perfect day.
And it all seemed dull,
In comparison to your gaze.

Your eyes so bright,
That stars shine mild.
Your smile so wide,
Tribulation did hide.

A man be so lucky,
To have you by his side,
Can hold no grudge,
For perfection he did find.

A silent song,
A darkening hold,
A passageway to defeat.

I found it all,
In a deep dark soul,
With the name of Aphrodite.

The moon looked down in envy,
As the sun shone with all his might,
To try and match the beauty,
That radiated from her smile.

I caught you,
In a glance.
Between chapters,
Between words.

I read you,
But couldn't really read you.
I found you,
But couldn't really see you.

You came just in time,
To save his life,
For the protagonist,
Had found defeat.

The author's charm,
To destroy it all,
So that you would,
Build it up again.

And now the narrative,
Had found it's muse.
The pages wrote themselves.
The Writer had nothing to do,
But watch it all unfold.

The happy ever after,
Was pages away.
All thanks to you,
The girl in the storybook,
Who made his world complete.