Can't you see
that the fish was gasping for air?

For the sake of your lust,
wanting to have a triumphant end
to such a meaningless contest
you lure it from its world.

How could you inflicted that
on such innocent, lovely soul?
How could you treated its life
as if it is unworthy at all?
How could you even sleep
when you have wounded another soul?

Dead or alive,
you have no right
to irresponsibly acted in that way.

Ignorance, arrogance.

No regret, no guilt.


Yes, because you are all murderers!

C'est la vie they said, but every moment they departed with the beautiful, delightful phrases that has mysteriously managed to distance itself from the that is you, you have failed again to realize the potential in you. You placed the burden in your mind, in the isolated chamber of yours, as if it's possible for you to fill in every inch of your sullen skeleton, you would. You have come to expect something that is living beyond the border of reality and in order for that to take into effect, the neglection of the genesis behind the seed of our life has to take place. Reality and truth, are the two things that have always been abandoned by greed and dishonesty that have been infesting our minds ever since we are doomed to feel the wrath of karma. We are the author of our own destiny and if we want to be happy, we should take control of the ship and for that to happen, I need a company to face the music and you are the reason that the ship is still afloat as it takes two to balance it. Everything is absurd but love.

We are all
part of this folklore,
that lead us to the only door.
There is only one single war,
and we keep asking for more.

Burn the flowers,
lose count on the feathers,
veil bought and dropped,
**** all the mobs.

Bomb the tomb they said, bomb the tomb.

I might lay the wreath on the innocence
on this ill-fated day
but in near future day
we will lay the wreath on the ignorance
on one fine day.

War should've been given a miss,
But life, life is a promise.

Poetry
makes me believe in possibilities,
it turns the coffee table upside down
it lifts the bed from its hiding corner
it feeds me with every outlandish ideas
that offers the olive branch to my cerebrum.

It makes me feel,
wonder and believe in risk.

It challenges me.

Most of the time
when I am lost for words,
poetry patiently waits for me.

It helps me in overcoming
my scars, my fears.
It embraces my weaknesses.
It never looked down on me,
it accepts me and my individuality.

Dopamine, serotonin, adrenaline,
just pour everything in.

No rush, just honesty and reality.

Poetry
I love you
with all my sanity.

It is
not precious

it is just plain ludicrous

and full of atrocities.

Lose it, lose it
before
you thought
you can


feel it.

this world poetry day
is meaningless,
Maya, Charles, Sylvia, Allen
never even thought of it
it breeds more seed of
ego and monstrosity
deep inside those men
to lift their hands and
push us down the drain
to ensure that
we are stuck in between
honesty and reality,
forever.

I am a tough soul
that has no ego,
I let it all pour,
the drain overflows
I will never win,
adding up to the sin
Jugra sees me fled
the scene with
stained pen and
****** paper
and I thought
the moment I left
gone, already gone,
disappeared, diminished
finally freed
but for all that, I am still there.

I am at the tower
looking around
but the weather
will check on the ground
and betray me,
betray me,
weakened and hungry
for truth and honesty
one day you'll triumph
over my disgusting failure
childless, spineless
and I will miss
all the thousand words
that you have never confessed.

They will never set me free,
and they will always remember me.