This was supposed to be surreptitious 

But my mind couldn’t take it any longer
Those words had lost their way 

Those letters were now under the shadow of the dark
I was left at a place 

Where I thought denouement begets the beginning
But now the sets were dismantled and the stage was empty

And my love for writing could now be considered an infatuation
My soul lingered in the wilderness 

In search of sempiternal happiness
Those papers bleeding ink

Were now drowning in the oceans
Because the weight of living 

Was killing me from within
And those little pieces I had written 

Were the only things I ever had.

Broken prisms
and 
Hallucinations

Thursday has been postponed 

Even they’re tired of this monotonous sound 

The world needs 

Time.

Her mother told her 

She was as beautiful as the winter snow

But 
All this while 

She knew

It wouldn’t snow in winter

It doesn’t snow in that part of the world

But her love

Let her remain 

Consciously oblivious 

She didn’t want her mother 
To feel

Insecure because of blindness.

Falsehood
.
Crime
.
Deaths.

Run.
Fight.

Mockery in the streets
.
Visions.
Maybe, death.

Running away, 

With each atom disintegrating.

Every millisecond.

Chasing away, 

With a fierce rage Of defeating while chasing

Without blood shedding

Mere intelligence 

Shrewd skills

Wit.

Without loss.

I Wished
My thoughts
Lived up with
My words
And my creativity
Ably Portrayed
Itself on
The canvas
And the conversations
Made sense
To those people
Drifting away
But
Nobody knows
what they are
looking for
And right
nothing
makes sense to me
For I don’t know
Which path may lead
To the place I want
To go
Bur most importantly
I dont know
What I want
To see.
what
I want to be.

And the conversation was just a call away

But who’d explain
what she said 

Who knew how things work 

Nobody has got the answers 

Nobody knows 

They just pretend.

Movement of impatience. 

Erroneous steps. 

Irrelevant arguments. 

False accusations. 

Sadistic approaches. 

Self centred minds. 

Disgust.
Nobody lives
They just exist.

The fairy tales
And the horrendous stories
The fear in your soul
Also the philanthropists' empathy
Nothing works here
Nothing remains.

Strings of conversations
Awestruck
By the way you hypnotise
The world
By your
Innumerable lies
Nobody speaks the truth
The world is a farce