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In the world of steel and blood i was born
crazy they call me iam
writing this song

been hungry in life and clothes torn
in the world of
steel and blood i travelled long

crazy they call me they have been
wrong
in the world of steel and blood i have grown strong

tosses a
fortune and love played ping pong
loved a dame true yet she never
waited long

crazy they call me iam not king kong
in the world of steel
and blood ill never end my song

crazy they call me if love be wrong

in
the world of steel and blood courage strong
Crazy they call me my
heart to wrong
in the world of steel and blood till my final gong
Inspired by Bob Dylan  shelter from  the storm
 Sep 2016 rohini singal
naeuta
i talk to my shadow, for he is my friend.
i walk with my shadow; he's there till the end.
i spoke to him the things i reveal to no one else,
the silly little secrets that no one ever tells.

truly, what could i say?
he was the one that never went away.
he was with me on the treetops, under the light of the moon,
through the clashing and smashing, that sad afternoon.
he's the friend i cried to when i had no other -
no sister, no brother, no father, no mother.

"but i loved them wholeheartedly,"
that's what i'd say,
yet my friends did not love me in the very same way.
thank you, dear shadow, for being with me.
you, unlike the others, are not such an absentee.
 Sep 2016 rohini singal
naeuta
dear love, you’re a liar
and nothing you’ve told me has been true
you’ve told me silly things,
oh, pretty things, too.

blue, blue, blue
that’s what i see when i think of you
i see blue skies and blue hearts -
i see the night, the early morning, the wishing-washing warning.

“and when we both look at the moon at exactly 11:52,
i’ll finally be next to you,
no longer separated by distance, but both seeing the same sight,
together, together, in the blue, blue night.”

oh love, you’re like art - you’re smart, in such ways i do not know.
but love, you’re a liar
and for you, i refuse to grow tired
anymore.
 Sep 2016 rohini singal
May Asher
Don't wait, I'm not coming home.
Someday you'll forget me
and I'll forget you.
Don't search for me,
I'm lost.
This emotion is absurdly bitter,
biting into my paper veins; gnashing.
You won't know where I've bled.
Someday, you'll forget my voice
and I'll forget yours.
This moment is a void
flooding with intangible vacuum.
My lungs are ripped open,
did you know how it feels to die?
Don't forget we counted stars
of the starless sky.
I'm drowning but it doesn't matter,
it's not like I can breathe
anymore anyway.
Don't forget you used to tell
bedtimes stories to ghosts
when you thought I fell asleep;
with your hand in mine
the way sun fits into skies
that are not his home.
The miles I've walked away
mean nothing because
I'll turn around and run to you again.
Don't forget I gifted you
the other half of my dream
because you said
you could never dream.
Someday I'll forget
the touch of your fingertips
against mine
and you'll forget mine.
I'm a kaleidoscope spinning
without direction,
shattering and falling
into shards
like a screaming avalanche.
I'm glacial bones,
someday you'll forget
the coldness of my eyes
and I'll forget yours.
The azure of the sky merging
into orange of sun
is only because
they've learned
to be together
and conjure another color.
You and I are oil paints
splattered on black canvas,
a dark vastness
they can't measure.
Someday I'll forget
the number of your scars
and you'll forget mine.
You're stubborn and beautiful,
you'd say you want to take a dive
into the clouds and fly into cliffs.
We're inverted images,
never fitting into each other.
But you're in the mirror
and I'm stumbling into the void.
But you're eyes are still cerulean blue,
mine are still emerald green.
I'll never forget
the soprano of my voice
melting in the tenor of yours.
I'll never forget touch
of your fingertips
through glass doors
or concrete walls.
You'd forget that I still remember
when you told me I'm so deep.
I'm so deep, I drowned you
and you're still gasping for breath,
even after all these years,
I'd know you'll never forget
the precise lengths of my scars.
 Sep 2016 rohini singal
naeuta
do you ever believe that others share a common feeling?
a hope, a wish, a dream?
a way of living life, that we perhaps are all
         only shells of ourselves, to outsiders?

that perhaps, we are all connected in this.
hiding in the same way,
shrouding the senseless little things in our heart
we could not bear for any other to see.

each one of us living our lives secluded,
off in secrecy, yet somehow, we are all just the same.
every soul feeling a silly little sadness,
living scared, helpless, and anxious -
but only in our thoughts, alone;
never revealing ourselves to others.
there are two dollar bills
soaking in saltwater
unsure if their worth is still warranted

a conundrum which parallels my own
work which slips away like an old love
into the passage of fire
unable to see through the smoke

this smoke makes friends with uncertainty
clouding judgmental overtones
or hiding the weeping truth
of dangerous discoveries in my life
where open change closes the doors
leaving cracks to see all
I couldn't complete

where days being single
become years
and all that was planned
falls into alcoholic waste
savoring the love I could share
for no one should claim it
when it sits in the smoke
coated in insecure skin
questioning every second it exists
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