Aren't we all hiding behind lies,
Stuck staring at the window pane.
Meaningless disparity lashing out within
A feud between the soul and the mind.
Washed out skin, colourless eyes
Most of the time, exhibiting tyranny.

Isn't it obvious, why we spent so much time
With our heads bowed down, on our knees,
Begging for mercy.
Even as the sirens go off inside our heads,
Distracted by all the fallacy.

What if we just stopped for a second,
Lift our eyes upto the skies?
Maybe wonder why there are so many stars,
Hung up so high.
Why do we try to find ways to look down and feel lost
When all we need is a little love, to give and behold.

If I were to give value to emotions packed away,
Locked up twice, even thrice in safety boxes
With maximum security and minimum dignity,
If I were to remember even a single moment of the time
I spent worshipping the very ground you walked,
Let alone give heed to my seemingly uncaring eyes
That craved to have the tiniest glance of you,
You will have succeeded to burn me entirely
From within, leaving scars deep enough
To be an unceasing pain for years to come.
This will I have forged, from heaven knows where,
Gives me the strength to appear unscathed and untouched,
By the very drug you are.
The essence of my being, dry and weary by your absence,
Knowing very well that I can only be scorched by everything you are.
No, you're not the tempting desire to set myself on fire,
But the very force that makes me want to be a part of the raging fire...

*You are.

I know that I'm not ready,
I know you fear it too.
If only I could open you up,
To all of your most tattered pages,
Feel the rips the others left behind,
And mend them one by one,
Piece together the scraps let loose,
Make sense of the sentences torn apart,
Give your story meaning,
By putting you back in sequence,
I can bare the cut of every page,
And swallow the pain of every word,
If only it meant that you would continue.
I would rewrite your beginnings,
Soften our rise and fall,
And give you the ending you always deserved.

I am the Wind
Chaotic, Dynamic,
But often the soft*  Breeze,
Gently treading,
Silently whispering,
*Creating ripples in the water.

'Tis easier to look at a mirror
Than to dare introspect,
As the reflection subdues
The deceit buried in a tangled web of lies.
As the light dances on ripples in the water,
The shimmer it casts
To a void that is our souls.
There's darkness all around,
In our hearts and in our minds.
And in times like these
When our thirst is quenched with only more fire,
Our thoughts become inked in red,
Reminded of the weakness of our fortitudes,
And the shallowness of our words,
Let alone be our deeds.

The story of how a good man goes to war,
Lost to the morals of an unsound mind,
Resounds like a thunder in the midst of nowhere.
And as he raised his hand
And plunged a knife
Into the very heart of another his kind,
There he lost himself to the deafening screams of mankind.

And we find ourselves without voices
Drowning in a sea full of tears.
There is ONLY us,
THIS is all us...
OUR tragedies
OUR failures
OUR deeds.
We let ourselves fall,
**Even before the walls came tumbling down.