Charged was the air between us
carrying the words we held back.
That knowing look on  his face
conveying he felt the same love.
Blessed was how I felt
when we spoke for the first time.
Heard all his unsaid words
when he gifted me a rose.
Unforgettable is the day
we had our hands locked
making the simplest promise
of a joyous journey together.

My world had turned small for some time. For a while, I had a great deal of things that scared me. It was at that time that I and Paul met and become close buddies. I was afraid of dreaming and trusting. I was afraid of giving more and ending up in an inescapable, disheartening web of *******. I was afraid of commitments. He had the same fears. Through the tales that brought about these fears we connected, though I would have done anything for the people I loved even back then. I was blind and overlooking, cuddling with my own insecurities. Things have changed a great deal as I have got on to my next phase of life. Slowly my fears are leaving me. I'm not afraid to give people my all. I'm not scared to love. I'm dreaming with open eyes with only possibilities in mind and a belief in myself of getting  all that  i want. I stand strong for people I love and have comforting words for others too. Upon meeting him after such great changes in my life, I couldn't help noticing how small his mind and heart are for even the people closest to him. I can't close my eyes and overlook now. I don't like him anymore. I might seem like a ***** but I hardly care.

The world is full of beautiful mysterious mazes,
And each breathing soul, including us, is solving it.
All of us are trying to reach our destiny,
which we are clueless about and seek.
Just when a small streak of light transpires
showing us where our passion lies,
we set forth towards it, to see for ourselves,
if it is the key to our life’s purpose,
if it is what we want to become.
Reaching there, we find all the resources
we need to build the castle of our dream.
Block by block, we build the castle of our goal.
Once done, we spend some time at the castle,
enjoying our creation, making the best out of it.
As we spend some time at the beautiful castle,
we realize we want more from the maze.
We set out on a different journey, a different field,
this time exploring the unexplored.
We, once again, dream of a big castle,
a castle filled with bigger dreams and happiness.
Block by block, we build again a beautiful castle.
After seeing many days and many nights, living in the castle,
we wish and aspire for something bigger.
We keep building huge castles,
trying with all might to figure out
what we want to be,
where we want to be,
what we want to do in our life.
Years roll by, we have built many breath-taking castles.
We have had many adventures, many failures, many successes.
At about this time, the secret of the maze becomes
visible to the human eyes,
we see the road not taken,
we dive in, building the magnificent castle,
the castle of our dream,
the castle of our destiny.

Imagine life to be a notebook and the pages to be the days,
when you read my tale!
I don’t know the number of pages on my notebook!
Maybe half the notebook is already filled.
Some pages are filled with
my life stories that I am proud of and
some pages with stories I am not so proud of.
I know that I can change not what I’ve already written,
but I do know that I can bring about a twist in the story,
steer around and change the direction;
And write the ****** that I would come to like.
Pals, believe me, we have the power to write our ******.

Sometimes, we think that the milieu our notebook is from,
decides all the chapters on the notebook.  
We presume that if the notebook had not seen sunshine
and had been confined to the cupboard,
then it will be impossible for the notebook
to survive the outside weather.
Survive the rough weather, believe me, it will.
Just going through it, experiencing the rough tides,
will change the course of the story,
making a history that will not be forgotten.

I hear there can be alternate timelines.
Maybe, someday, there will come into the world
a machine with a dial,
that will let us turn back pages
and overwrite what we’ve already written.
Till then,
write great stories on each page
that wipes away the bitterness on the previous pages.

I've got nobody to lean on.
People are on all the sides.
I am starting to feel like
I'm stranded on an island.
My world is breaking apart.
I am not in control of my ship.
I'm hauled towards icebergs.
This is not the life I'd wanted.
I've got a big smile on my face
Swallowing the raging storm in.
I hide these details of my silly life
Making it look perfect for all eyes.
I need to make a quick escape
Before I'm stranded here forever.

I can grant you any wish you want.  
I can give you anything you want.
I can grant you the knowledge
you have been craving for.  
I can give you the creativity
you have longed for.  
I can bring purpose into your life.
I can drive away the aimlessness in you.  
I can change the nothingness in you
Into something altogether different.
I can turn your fears into strengths.  
I can bring confidence in you.  
You just have to make a wish.  
You have to make your choice now.  
You have to decide how badly
you want the one thing.  
The intensity matters to me.  
I am the most generous yet
not the most generous at the same time.  
You have to be modest.  
Be wise.  Think twice before you make your wish.  
You have to tell me why you want it.  
If it's genuine, you'll get it.  
I am omniscient, omnipotent and omnipresent.  
I am God to you.  
I am your God.  
I am everything to you
And you are everything to me.
Make a wish now forgetting
all your fears and failures.  
I am ready to grant you
whatever you want.
'Coz I'm you and you are me.
I am your reflection.
I am the ultimate GOD,
the only one on this planet,
who can change your world.

Feeling never ending cycles of
Greatness and misery
Trapped in a world of illogical ideas
Every thing seems so bothersome

Why did I get to know about the myriad faces of the game before I even got in the field?  Players have told me a lot about the game called love .  I never asked them.  Some simply did while some needed to talk out to move on.  I just happened to be the person they could trust with their darkest secrets.  With the tales, my dream of an almost utopian world has receded into the past.  Sometimes I just have a minuscule wish to be able to dream of paradise like everyone else.

A bright, blinding light glows
Above me with brilliance,
Contrasting the ambiance.
My eyes are fixed on the hospital room's ceiling,
While my ****** expressions change.
I see instruments used on me.
I let wave after wave of pain
Wash through me
And wait for the agony to subdue.
Sadly, hitherto, there is no distraction of any kind
That makes me forget the unbearable pain.
At the moment of utter helplessness,
The lines of my poem
Come to my rescue,
The words slowly taking birth,
Take my mind off agony.
I think of ways to describe
The hell I’m going through,
Knowing only too well
That I might not be the best person
To paint the picture.
Yet, here is my attempt!
I have the mad desire,
Raging through me,
To somehow leave my body,
Take my soul with me
And run away from the room.
I just wish I had the powers of Doctor Strange,
So I could escape into another realm,
Where I can have peace,
Where there is no pain.
Lying down there,
I secretly wish for death to take me,
Which I believe is sweeter
Than the inescapable torture
I face as a patient.
But that would make me selfish,
For I would leave my people,
The people who love me,
With a void that cannot be filled.
So, I wait patiently for my term
As a patient to come to an end.
And while I wait for the end,
I am writing this.

I love saying "I love you baby" to myself.
I don't seem to love anyone enough or long enough to be able to say it to them.
Is that crazy?

I am envisioning a world of bots,
pulling us into the black hole
of innovation and technology,
with no trees, no schools, no collages,
nothing that is bricks and mortar.
Can you envisage a life on man-made oxygen?  
Can you imagine the fantasy world
in movies becoming our real world?
I'm being ingenuously curious,
how long before
a plethora of machines and bots,
a metallic universe created by man,
replaces everything we have lived for?
A few more countable years perhaps.
Just the thought sets me off in trepidation.
I wish to somehow freeze and slowdown
the evolving era so the living flesh and blood
could be prepared for what they are about to face.

When you love someone with your heart,
It feels impossible to change direction.
You can't help rowing towards the storm,
even if it shouts out pain & misery.
But when your sails get torn,
when you have water filling in,
when the part of your boat
called "hope" goes missing,
you'll turn your back on the storm.
After your love changes direction,
it may maneuver towards the storm
Once again perhaps sometime later,
but unlike before, it is now careful.

Love, so colourful and magical yet blind at first
changes just as swiftly as the seasons change,
love perspires ever slowly and inapparently,
till it is lacklustre and lost in the air forever,
Replaced with pretence for the sake of old times,
masking uninterestedness with a fake curiosity.
Lies come freely as one tries not to be obnoxious.
But seemingly, both are trying not to be insolent,
with both professing about love in the air tonight,
even when neither feel even a pinch of it in heart.

Each day was like a ride on the slowest vehicle on Earth,
Each day was filled with an emptiness,
Each day brimmed with  melodrama,
Each day started with the thought of the day end and
Each day ended just like the doodle on magic slate that got erased,
When you have so much to share, so much to give,
and when people around you just take all,
you lose the tinge of hope that there is a
possibility of indestructible love in life,
where there is no giving and taking but sharing,
But there came a day, when everything changed.
I met the people who mean the life to me,
just when the sun was setting.
Each day from then on begins with the Sun rising all so bright,
extending the radiance, so warm that the entire day gets lightened.
Each evening we meet and the long strolls we take and
Each minute we spend together leaves
an indelible imprint on my memory forever to cherish.
Each step we take is like the luminous steps of enlightened people.
With each step, there  is a new path down the earth,
where the sorrows of each get buried down deep, forgotten
and replaced with a desire to face the tribulations of life.
I still vividly remember the magical evening we all met.
For the first time,
When you are shown the beauty of the evening star,
When you are shown the change in the orientation of stars,
When you are shown the beauty of the world around you and
when you see your buddy treat a dog that passes by like a comrade,
you just cannot help falling in love with life.
When you realize that your ideas of unbreakable trust and love,
which you had started to doubt because of some misplaced trust,
could be all be true, it is a miracle.
It was a surprise to me when words that were dear to me,
words that I had not spilt before, were spilt freely.
From the beginning, it felt like we all belonged together,
sharing a bond that cannot be broken by time or any force.
When you have found friends for whom
you would not even hesitate to lay down your life,
there is a new found freedom and a gleeful feeling.
I feel like like I have sprouted wings,
perpetually free to fly because
even in our greatest despairs,
we will stand together as one family.

What can be sharper than any weapon?
Words?  Yes, words,
that can deport us to the hell of heaven,
which 'fcourse is worse than hell
for  it is hell in the guise of heaven,
which sets us flying high for one moment,
to be brought back down the next moment,
with the next onset of words,
when reality and truth dawns on us,
clearing off the mist in the mind.
Now while all are wondering
what in the world I am talking about,
let me tell you,
I speak of hypocrites,
I speak of those who 'think' they are witty,
who 'think' they have words flashing
across their brain,
at their beck and call,
who are painstakingly careful to plunge their
weapon coated with superficial assurance,
only to deceive straight thinkers,
And push them into the world of misery,
'N to give themselves a little tap on the shoulder,
when they succeed.
Whoa! A heartfelt success of a hypocrite!
Now I wonder in total bewilderment,
why they are exceptionally elated,
when they speak pleasing words
just before their haughty, nasty blows.
Should we call them witty
for not realizing that the person in front,
might as well be capable of such harm,
had they not considered the feelings of others?
When I see  one such hypocrite,
I have a burning desire to retaliate,
but react nonchalantly,
for I know better than to be a hypocrite.

In her early twenties,
is a young woman,
flying high, exploring the world.
She is highly successful,
and has all the things
that anybody could ever want
in the eyes of people around her.
Just like a kite,
she flies around,
exploring the boundaries,
testing the boundaries,
experiencing both flight and downfall.
Wait a sec!
Her semblance to an airplane,
is far greater than to a kite,
for she lifts people up with her,
just like the plane.
When she finds a person,
drowning in misery,
she listens patiently
to their every whim,
and gives a different view,
sharing a part of her own life story,
giving a piece of herself,
so they can change and sour high,
befriending them all.
Her circle of friends grows
bigger and bigger everyday.
Though her love for all remain unchanged,
she forgets the names of some,
after all she isn’t a memory machine.
Now when so many love her for all she is,
she is surrounded by hungry, envious foxes,
ready to claim all that is hers,
wishing to be all that she is,
trying to paint her beautiful days black.
All around her,
she can smell the aroma of
jealousy and greed of the foxes in air.
Wherever she sets a foot,
whatever dreams she has,
the foxes try to put on her shoes,
invading her private life.
They claw at her every day,
piercing her mind with mindless questions.
Every 10 steps she takes,
there is a fox waiting,
bombarding her with questions.
As wary as she is,
she still shows them the path
and answers their questions.
There are some obnoxious foxes,
who demand that she gives answers then and there.
She merely says she has already told
the story so many times that day,
some other time perhaps.
To which some obnoxious foxes keep nagging
and finally say,
“But you WILL HAVE to tell one day!”
The foxes, somehow, seem to think,
it is their birthright to know
everything that she does,
every footstep she takes,
every new art she learns.
Luckily when she was attacked everyday,
when she had forgotten the bliss of life,
when she was dying every day,
when she was on the edge of losing herself,
she by the gift of lord,
met a bunch of people, shining with brilliance,
who showed her the beauty of life.
They taught her to live and give again.
She was like a child seeing the stars for the first time.
Everything they showed her felt like a miracle.
She, for the first time, knew
what it was like to have friends,
who never let her down.
Even though,
the foxes still remain sly,
she has a way of swerving around,
not giving in to the butterfly effect.
The foxes’ attempts to color her days
black remain an unfulfilled dream.

Just as quickly as I quiver
I bounce back into action
Slowly replacing the fraility
With ounces of relentlessness

I met my now turned ex friend
Last month after about a year.
He had traveled miles to meet me
Though we had just a day together.
We met in the city we had first met
where we had spent time together.
He had told that I was his reason,
That we were friends forever.
He wouldn't make a choice,
So it was on me to decide
and take him to places as well.
We hit restaurants and theatre
catching up with each other.
But he just went on phubbing,
While we were heatedly gaming,
While watching his choice of movie,
Even while we were dining.
He phubbed every chance he got
With no explanation whatsoever so.
I couldn't bring myself to tell him
To put his ******* phone away
And that I wanted his full attention.
The whole time calming myself down
telling myself it was only for a day.
We parted with him saying
it was such a fabulous day
And that he didn't want it to end,
while I was glad that it was over,
Finally.
We were such great buddies in the past,
And talked about a great deal of things.
But the very memory of him appears black
Just too painful to even think of now.
I tried so hard to forgive him but can't,
don't think I will ever be able to.
I have just boxed it in this writing
And in a distant corner of my mind,
moving forward with my life.

I fell in love with you,
but you did not give a ****,
though I in every way showed my
love without uttering the words.
You have no idea, you have no clue,
just how much I think about you.
You are in my dreams,
You are my thoughts.
I thought you will come and pacify
my beating heart.  
You told me I looked beautiful.  
I waited for what seemed like aeons
for you to say I like you.
I thought you'll at least say you
wanted me as a friend.
I craved to know the person you are,
trying to figure out,
yet could only see an ideal person.
I  was ready to accept you
Just the way you were.
I thought it was all about sharing.
I tried to tell you who I was and
expected you to share who you were.
**** my expectations.
I thought you will share your ideas,
dreams and goals with me.
But, dang, you shared your dreams
with my bestie.
You are running behind her.
It hurts like hell.  
I carry a bleeding heart now
and try to pacify myself.
If this is what it is about,
then let it be.
I don't give a **** about you either.
It doesn't matter I fell in love with you.
You don't deserve my love,
the pure love I had for you.
I would rather love myself for
my beautiful heart and soul,
than wait for you with bleeding heart.

Standing beside me was a huge tree
With branches spanning a vast space,
Tender fresh leaves in wiggling spree,
Radiating liveliness to people who gaze.

Days, months and seasons had passed,
It's last leaves were withering unwillingly.
It stood then all bare with leaves none,
A breathing epitome of ephemeral life.

A home to many creatures once,
nobody spares it a second glance.
Mercilessly, from it's lively home,
It's roots have been coldly uprooted,
Shifted to some distant old-age home.

Just as wetness gather in the corner of my eyes
Or my heart goes wild thumping, panicking,
a fierce warrior arises with armor, shielding,
standing between me and the entire world,
ready to deflect anything that befalls me.
The warrior of self comes to my defense  
crooning to me in the most heavenly voice
whispering the most assuring words
with belief in me, chasing away distress.  
Well composed and indifferent as  I may seem today
the warrior was born when I had sunk to the ground,
crawling, weeping, struggling to get back up on my foot.
When I rose, there arose a warrior too in my mind.
Thence not a drop of tear I could drop on the ground.

I believed in a figment of my imagination.
I gave my imagination quirks I wanted to see.
I knew later that it was only a fiction
I wrote to allow my loneliness to flee.

Love flowed for the one I thought I knew.
My subconscious mind saw him all gleam.
He was an acquaintance I barely knew
Who haunted my every single dream.

It was the one time I, irrevocably, fell in love.
But I heard a bell in the background chime.
It was a siren to get my feelings to tow,
But I saw it as a prophecy saying he was mine.

Months later, the scene painfully unfolded.
Holding hands with her, he walked with a smile.
That moment, the heavy heart I shouldered
Pushed me off from the living world by a mile.

I understood that the entire story was mine.
A year later, I told him what he'd meant to me.
But he shoved me aside sparing me my time,
Not even telling me he had no feelings for me.

He said he was sorry for what I had to endure.
While I gave him a big gift of opening up,
It was on me to find for myself the right cure.
And poetry lifted me, from the dead, high up.

My thoughts and words became one
When I started to write on Hello & Poetry.
I, in no time, lost the unhappy tone,
Diving into the beautiful world of poetry.

Broken into million tiny pieces,
Scattered as a thousand shards,
Torn apart by mindless gossips,
Plunged with a dozen knives
Plated with jealousy and greed,
Got run over by fake concerns,
Bitten by some parasitic humans,
Toppled down by intolerance,
Stamped down by indifference,
Abused by few immodest ones,
Died because of immoral some,
Got choked helping a handful,
Poisoned by loneliness for long
                      Is me.
I tied the noose a million times
But could tighten it never ever
As glints of hope always remained.
My knees are almost giving away.
Yet here I stand!  I stand.  I live.

Too numb to feel anything
Sorry all, who love me,
For not being there with you.
Too high and driven by dreams
That even sleep has evaded me.
Hurt too deep to stay where I am,
I want to belong at a better place.
I am not gonna stop till I get there.
And not even after.

Feel like the whole world has turned grey?
Feel like you are traveling down an abyss?
Feel like you are gonna hit the bottom?
Don’t worry, friend!
Life doesn't follow the laws of gravitation.
You feel it so you can rise and fly.
You only fall to rise higher.
A great surprise is waiting for you at the bottom!
Failure will leave you with sweet memories
Of your brave fight and endurance power
When it passes.
Failure is just another fleeting moment,
Which will turn you into a greater being
And it has no choice but to pass.
Remember one thing friend,
When you fail, don’t even by mistake
Add despondency to your life’s dictionary.
Just dream more, dream big,
Work just a little more,
For success is waiting for you around the corner.

When I was about to tell you
about how much I loved you,
about how your name had become my heartbeat,
you fell in love with someone else.
I died everyday for months before
I turned my love to that of an onion,
I removed one peel at a time, although
Peeling every peel brought blood tears to my eyes.
It killed me to **** the love I had for you.
But I have peeled all layers till
there is nothing left of your memory now.
I peeled away the last peel
when I heard your companions roar the other name.
I had buried my love in the soil long ago
so you would never find it or hear about it.
But I couldn’t stop myself from telling you
about my love for you
when I read my diary entries of you,
written long time back.
I’m glad you fell in love with someone else
‘cause I loved you crazy and I believed
nobody can love anyone as much as I did you.
I would have only lost myself in you
had you loved me back.
I’m grateful to you for both nothing and everything.
Without you, I would never have understood
the true meaning of falling in love
and the power of unrequited love.

They say....

If you don't become a Sun,
We'll marry you off to a Sun
So you can at least be a moon,
A beautiful sight to behold.

Reflecting your spouse's light,
Blazing smile plastered on lips,
Diamond in glory on fingers,
A beautiful sight to behold.

I say...

As scant as my light is today,
Never will I become a moon,
I, a star from far away to see,
A beautiful sight to behold.

Always on the move forward,
Ye don't have to wait long to see
Me become a blazing bright star,
A beautiful sight to behold.

Just a day left for us to go different ways
but we don’t talk like we usually do.
We are silent when we don’t want to be.
Sadness stretches between us
in the thought of us not living together.
There is a great yearning that we remain
close friends in the future as well.
When we want to talk to all night,
before the separation inescapable,
we just don’t have the right words to say.
Maybe, silence is our reaction to parting ways.
I wish to tell her how special a friend she is,
but I guess she knows it already.
She is the only friend with whom I have had no secrets and
I am the only friend with whom she has had no secrets too.
Even the thought of separation brings melancholy.
Together we went through our ups and down,
And together we went through our mood swings.
The four walls of our room, our only witness,
when we expressed
our frustrations,
our unexpressed words
and our unexpressed anger.
She will remain the one special friend forever.

I wouldn't mind
doing anything for them,
placing their wishes before mine,
forgiving them when no one else will.
Who are they?
My love and my pals
But,
When I realize that
My sacrifices were taken for granted
Or that they had never deserved it,
They will lose me that very moment.
And the broken tie can be mended never.

To you
A thorn will remain a thorn that ******,
even if it is a garden of heaven to rest.
Make your escape before the thorn tricks
you into believing it is a beautiful gest.

The needle trailed through my skin,
smearing ink with its every touch,
Imprinting my legacy in its wake,
Narrating the tales I speak not of.

Brave struggles and conquered fears,
all traced with a divine perfection,
marking victories over adversities,
are forever kissed deep on my skin.

Judged at first sight or outcast,
I care not about them the least.
I wanted my art to power me up
when I feel, speak or act feeble.

Many a times, we dream of finding the ideal person
with whom we can share our life, ideas and dreams.
And we think of qualities he/she should have.
Why not have a bigger dream?
Think about this dream that I have:
Becoming the person I want the other person to be.
Why not have those qualities ourselves?
Why not become an ideal person yourself?

When our college days came to an end,
Moving back to our places brought distance.
When I felt affected so much by it,
My friends seemed not to feel much.
I wept over our gone together times.
I longed to get back our past moments.
But tick, tick, tick, tick went the clock.
And time has made it's own move now.
When I see my old friends again,
I have lost the touch of feelings.
Just as the clock ticks by, do feeling change?
Did my tears for the people I loved
Turn my heart into a hard diamond?
Why don't I feel the same any more?

Expressing raw feelings
At absolutely the wrong time,
Using all the wrong words,
Full of ambiguous meanings
Not just extinguishes friendship
But lights up great burden
In the heart of the other.
Wait until the cloud passes by
Or at least till you've a clear head
If you wish not to have
Your friendship tarnished
Or your feelings undermined.

A new reason to live and die for
A new world that could be mine
A new viewpoint to look from
A new way to look at the world
were all he gifted me when I asked.
Long unanswered questions
swirling in my head everyday
leaving me wondering sleepless
Answered by him in a few hours.
The moments I spent with him,
listening to his flowing words,
were the most enchanting times,
Even though they were ephemeral.
He disappeared in a puff of smoke,
leaving behind a souvenir of words,
when I thanked him for being there.

My ears hurt hearing you speak.
You, hearing not my mental screams,
Are overly engrossed in weaving
Your words laden with lame sarcasm.
Between me and you that's the chasm.
While you act as the witty,
I play out the dumb-wit.
I hide my irk behind my dumb facade
As if I can grasp not your sarcasm,
Replying with all straight answers,
Fearing I might give a hurtful reply,
Strike back with unforgivable curses,
While you have a laugh at my dumbness.
Once euphemism becomes my style,
You'll get to know who I really am.

At times,
Why is a bye sweeter than a hi?
Why does feeling low feel high?
Why does being alone not feel lonely?
Why does pain feel like a sweet candy?
Why does being clean feel little *****?
Why does being perfect feel a tint ******?
Why does serenity feel like a cacophony?
Why does silence feel like a symphony?
I wonder why!

A gentleman poured into a woman's goblet his words, wisdom and thoughts till it was replete.  She in no time developed a taste for the drink soon becoming an addict.  Hardly she realized what was happening to her.
"Pour in more!"
"Pour in more!"
Became the lady's usual words that rang in his ears.  
He did as she asked even when he felt himself getting depleted needing to recharge.  She knew not how time flew, drinking his words while filling his goblet with banters, gossips and words he didn't want to listen  to.  For her, minutes became hours of intoxication while he remained sober wishing to get back his vigor and wasted hours.  His age of forbearance was depleting as well till there was not a shred of it left.  When he started to refuse to fill up her flagon, her words became "Just one drink a day! Please!" which never once ended with one.  For a couple of days, he told her that he didn't have any left which was answered days later with heartbreaking, distressing tears that softened him forcing him to concede immediately.  This repeated a few more times till his heart hardened turning into an unfeeling stone, refusing to give in to the demand of filling up the glass of a woman disguised as a friend who cared, who called herself his best friend.  This supposed friendship ended with her spitting spiteful words, calling him an emotionless man who did nothing for his friend.  He pondered if it was worthwhile filling up the goblets of others with happiness and words, while emptying his goblet of stamina. He loved being alone, meeting different people and living his life to the utmost. He made a promise to himself that day, when it all ended, never to pour too much into one goblet.

Will you love my silence?
Will you know all my flaws
And still love me?
Will you know my mistakes
And still love me?
Will you still love me
When I have lost my glow?
Will you still love me
when I am weak?
Will you stand by me
When the storm rages?
Will you love me enough
to let me enter your world?
Will you love me enough
to tell me the truth
when it can shatter me?
Will you love me enough
to not hinder my path
saying “it is dangerous”?
Will you love me enough
to travel with me
when I have gone against your wish?
Will you love me enough
to show me your true self?
Will you love me enough
to bid me adieu
when it’s no longer me?

If in a world narrow and shallow,
you are the depth less, wide ocean,
Be all silent, invisible and hollow
you want in your survival motion.

But forget not that you're an ocean,
Be an ocean when you meet ocean.
Open up your horizons far and wide
You no more have the need to  hide.

I have lied with silence, smile and words
when I couldn't stand feeling unwanted.
I just prefer to pretend everything is fine.
Maybe.

Clouded, shrouded, blocked
was my mind by your thoughts
for years remained uncleared
despite all my frantic struggles.

The mist has been growing thin
Now, it isn't even faintly visible
What was a thought is a memory
However strongly I try to hold it,
to a more distant place it drifts off.

Alas,
Your thoughts have faded into a memory
And I ain't no magician to restore them.