Theme - Inner Peace

Getting nauseous of feelings
have dilemma about concealing, presence hypothetically that's my paranoia
or just changing of myocardia
-js

Stuck in a delirium
man searches for meaning
applying collyrium
to his unnoticeable leaning

I’ve been longing to write a piece
one that compares growth of a sapling
with man’s journey to find inner peace
vehemently I drag myself
assiduously I reach out for a page
to scribble on
I’ve been longing to write a piece
one that explains process of dusk to dawn
a symphony on which my life rests upon
I’ve been longing to write this piece
following this my wait of love will be released …

My insides have started to fade away      
I fear myself more than your touch    
You promised a land where nobody stays,
Is there no live example of such              
I hold your hand in daylight, you walk away in the night                                          
I catch-up some sad thoughts in the sunset, you don't care much yet                
I understand life isn't easy for me nor for you                                                          
Just a hug that brings love to my barren landed hue                                                
But I don't even allow sympathetic behaviour                                                
With me crying I don't have any saviour, other than you                                        
With my memories shall live on our prayers                                                                  
Everyone should be happy for themselves, care for themselves who thinks of layers, of boundness

he searches for a reason
preaching god day after day
one day he meets a person
who took him away
they both talk about meaning
to what the creator laid
the xylographer of the puzzle
looks at thr zestful people play
with creation he shortens their hustle
to adorn the semblance of the solution they lay …

The crescent moon embodies peace
in the dark night, and
the triviality of the sky changes;
a kid who witnesses the light from the night exchanges; verve
with the crescent of the sky and his heart ...

Theme- Inner Peace

Tranquil of vehemence
blended with some old school music usually dejection feels intense
when raised out of the catastrophic, emotions

A void that exists
in my heart
for the view of the mists
on the day they start
empty shackles that now evince
hitherto made verve depart
seldom I’ve seen
my heart pleading for such grotesque art…

Soliciting an escape
a door, a window from I could fall
lend me the cape
that’ll help my emotions to stall
I went to the gateway of repentance
together with my delusion
They said it wasn’t the presence
that alone counted for being in an illusion

Soliciting an escape
a door, a window from I could fall,
lend me the cape
that'll help my emotions to stall,
I went to the gateway of repentance
together with my delusion,
They said it wasn't the presence
that alone counted for being in an illusion

Tough times came with our hands held together
We were cuddling before the whole night
We looked at the sky as if we wanted it to take us
With her hand in my hand I felt that the place was complete
Or offer peace and make the environment harmonious
She looked at me smiling as if she wanted to say something
I kissed on her forehead and started humming
That sound made the moment complete
The idea of death was certain and concrete, in our heads
That momentary was utterly embedded
We slept night after night with our hands threaded
She said don't look at the sky so lovingly or it'll take you away
So I packed my bags and held her hand so we could run away
I wanted her for eternity she was so complete
The idea of making her feel special was discrete
Soon end will come I just wish she is in my hand
I don't wanna go to a barren place which ends with no name of her in the land

he gazed at the sky
humming a lullaby of archaic times
suddenly there was a manifestation up high
of crescent moon playing holy rhymes
in the moment there was a pause
as if rhythm of time pulled back its claws
he was at last enlightened
to search the meaning of inner peace and crimes

whenever a melody strikes me
i talk with the nature
often playing with the tree
having folly as a wager
whenever a melody strikes me
i stop looking for a knife
to set free
myself from this life
whenever a melody strikes me
i search for a place
to stabilise the pace
of naïveté in glee
whenever a melody strikes me
i close my eyes
let slip the lies
and introspect to meet Thee

i feel myself fading away
growing up like a dreamer
i see dawn's intriguing play
with arms wide open i try to reach her
i feel myself fading away
entering a rebellious state
a necessary change, as some say
to live by this trait
i feel myself fading away
trapped in hallucinations
the fear of these,
is god’s way
to prepare one for infinite meditations

Trapped in our reality marbles,
there’s an endless supply of anxiety
All bound as metacarpals
the five sinister hail to the almighty
there’s an endless supply of anxiety
But god doesn't let us remain slightly.

I’ve been looking for good in evil
a heart with an uncertain will
often do i talk with the landscape
on how to confront my inner devil
I’ve been looking for good in evil
finding an end to question of dreams
as a cure for aeonian screams
afraid of being in peril
I’ve been looking for good in evil
escaping from my trenches
how long have been servile
to all of my dark senses

Is death the end
Or is there any other upend
facing past to complete the silence
filling love to make amends

was there some peace left
in all the war, crimes and aeonian theft

Is death the end
or is it a portend
to misery, hatred and malevolence
turning stone as a way to transcend

is there some peace left
or is the present bereft

Is death the end
or is it a temporal mend
one that numbs turbulence
into apathetic fragments

will there be some peace left
in our memories that are still left, yet

After a long pause
he sat down to play a symphony
a composition of his flaws
in a rhythmic cacophony
After a long pause
i hid my presence
shimmering light on awes
of humanic reverence
After a long pause
she came out of her despair
pushing away the cross
of her ceremonial affair

silently I grabbed their hand
whispering to stay for a while
my words were infantile
but you lacked the will to reprimand

A line of thought
reached a different end than anticipated
i guess so you also fought
and then left things upon time and waited

walking on the street
he saw a horse
of glorifying feat
conveying to him the course
of the pious meet
a faint folly of spirit
he uttered as he saw the elite; horse

every single day I look up
at the sky for clouds
the nature’s open envelope
blessing serenity to the crowds
every single day I look up
for a thought in my celestial realm
for brief seconds I develop
emotions that overwhelm
one such day I stopped looking
for chaos in time
estranging my friends’ rebuking
like change of words in a rhyme
one such day I stopped looking
to reach people around me
tantamount to fluking
the belief in thee

I am standing here with utter disappointment ,
Finding my way out of the panic
Anxiously I gave some rude replies to push away the commitment,
Is taking the dream at night is the best way to have it ?

The eligies comprehend my emotions; shimmering zeal in darkness...

on the mist of dawn
he came out to play a melody
the holy rhyme of his lawn
treasured as a remedy
on the mist of dawn
they gathered on the field
for them soccer was a monotone
one with which their soul healed
on the mist of dawn
she welcomed the birds with fodder
its her way to mourn
the harsh reality of divine's order …

a gap of comprehension
between me and myself
i wander in the lands of pretension
to know what’s in the shelf
a gap of comprehension
lies there when a kid shouts
noise of attention
to find mother’s whereabouts
a gap of comprehension
exists in teaching and learned
a welcoming of opposition
to get what was yearned
a gap of comprehension
is there whenever i write about God
a scribble of solicitation
to get away from societal nod

Right after waking up had a reverie
it was showing the last sign of hope like a cavalry
Winding some emotions, they aren’t present in dreams anymore
or they are just not as fit as before
I guess it wasn’t just me who changed all these years

Just in the nick of time
I saw you writing your own rhyme
That stopped me from facing you head on
For an instant I thought you were also driven by the same hormone

At times when there’s silence
and the abyss gazes into you again and again
spreading chaos in coherence
do you still then look for the rain
At times when there’s silence
and you need a text
that can lighten the weight of offence
from whom heart still expects
At times when there’s silence
have you looked for the voice
one that’s wisdom as guidance
to clear abhorrence and noise
At times when there’s silence
and you cry tears of intolerance
do you still think word of god makes sense

Dragon, one of clouds
made out of imagination
a teen who looks at it wonders
is this incarnation, of thunders
adjusting his iris he gazes
at the sky
which brimmed amaranth
witnessing this serenity his heart cries why

We just lock our souls in a forest of hail
have some absurd notions, like a prisoner seeking bail
our heart is the epitome of thunder that follows light
there's a reason behind why we have a dream each night
I saw you laughing and flirting in the dream
just as I gathered courage to ask your name, someone in the outside world screamed
I'm here remembering your face, trying to find you hoping that dream that I had could once give me bliss in the real world

Theme - Inner Speech

Unsolicited tussle in the days of misery
contemplating the meaning of life
stopping the boat to the shore in a peremptory, manner
the waves reprieved the oarsman's knife
Perpetual suffering of one is the reason to strife ...
-js

At first i thought i was abandoned
left out by the music, the rhythm of poetry
profoundly robbed and left stranded
by the pain of malady
but at second thought
it was i who left & emptied the sea’s draught
on third i asked myself what inspired me to change
was poetry and music beyond my auditory range
or was it ignorance who was the catalyst of this exchange
i asked myself long enough
until i could barely hear
the sound of the rough, eulogies
I had written for when my death was near
-js

They look back at the time
when comprehension was about texts
curses were their holy rhyme
for every single context
Love was an overheard lullaby
every night they slept as if they were high
even grudges were brief
over things which mattered
seeing this memory
their revival system shatters
it is this dimmed history
around which their brain litters
every-time, they look back at the time

in our heads, communism arises
like woven threads it suffices
does a cloth which is woven
survive the adversity of vices ?
envision utopia
compassion without humility
truth without wisdom
peace without sacrifice
but are such notions viable in guises
is catastrophe a melody or a malady
do we now laugh at the melancholic portraits
are we still in the influence of Socrates
have we not yet learned from the past century
are we really aiming to end up in a penitentiary
in these question threads may we abandon ideology
and reframe our ontology, bit by bit
thread by thread

i've filled my journal from the end
for incomplete thoughts are crippled
or connoted to make amends
I’ve filled my journal from the end
as an allusion to incoherence
this was a rebellious upend
to attain self-reverence

There was some peace in silence
I saw a boat in the lake
it was pushing away thoughts of despondence
bet my brain wasn't awake...

Some of my thoughts are about self-concern
some will cause your heart to burn
some are like winter season
which spread chills without a reason
i never wished to be sorted enough
my words come better in the rough …

vividly he gazed at the ceiling
with his hands vermilion
willingly his vision blurred
as he entered Heaven’s pavilion …

I dreamt of being
a petal of carnation
and a soul worth freeing
from benevolent provocation
I dreamt of gazing
at a lucid manifestation
while being hit by winding
of analogous emancipation
I dreamt of deterring
myself from having melancholy eyes
a peculiar of covering
serenity in the epoch of lies
I dreamt of inducing
an act of spirituality in aeonian highs
a psychedelic erasing
the notion of the God that dies

Voice of wind speaks to me in language
one that I can't comprehend
fluttering of leaves by passage of wind reminds of men in herds,
looking for some possession in kind
wind has a soul, one that doesn't need shelter
just like gold which doesn't depend on carving for lustre
wind reminds me of God; of all his creation whenever it blows, that's when my inner thoughts seek meditation...