I can hear the death bell ,
Ringing for my death .
After when I’ll  die ,
I'll get the burning hell.


With demons,monsters,and ghosts,
All around me .
And my hands locked in the metal chains,
I think I'll never be free .


One day, I’ll run on the hell's floor,
The hell's floor would be so much hot.
Then I’lll find my death bell ,
And, it will be my first jackpot .

I'll get to the death bell ,
Take it in my hand .
Destroy and throw it in the well,
Then I’ll get back to my land.


With no demons, monsters, and ghosts ,
All around me .
And with no death bell,
I will always be free .

                  - SABIN THAPA

Knees bloodied.
Hands shredded.
I went for you.

Upon the sea of broken glass.

Every inch of you.
Carved in my miles.

The shape of who I am.

I dragged my corpse.
For years, and years.

Blood fornicating with tears.

I bring this body beside you.
My culmination of fears.

You rest my mind.
You rest my soul.

Peace for a heart out of control.

Talking about my personal experience
I have nothing much to say I guess.
My journey has just now begun
And very fresh it's still on its way.

Just a child, have no work to do
To pass time writing a  poem for you.
Since childhood I was not that special
Spent  time alone ignoring them all.

Studied hard since I was a child
Now I’m slowly turning wild.
I anymore don’t like studying
Cause even with it , to do there’s nothing.

Some people I call are my friends
Some of them are my dear family .
About personal about experience
I just have a small fragment in me.

poetry percolates
in the unconscious
waiting for a triggered start.

poetry then lays dormant in the body
until it's ready to surface
in the heart.