The question that is ,going through me
When I was a kid or  when I am grown up
the thing which resides within ,the one who grants it
I don't know whether it's me or someone ,
Full of truth or lie whichever is it  Just tell me
What am I?

It's not real ,it's not fake ,
Curious for world nearby lake
Thinking in nights ,dreaming in day
Whether it's me , my soul or someone else
I don't know what i take it as a role or just a lie
Whichever is it Just tell me
What am I ?

Existence , persistence, patience not so be true to be truth,
The things I know ,why nobody knows?
Feelings, strength, emotions ,dreaming about it but what takes
Us to exist and extinct if we don't know the relation,
The relation of being in reality,or rather in fake all around it ,
Everything till now was just a fallacy , us to smile or just cry
Whichever it is just tell me
What am I ?

The dead trees whispered to me in my sleep about happy endings.
(I should have known better than to talk to strangers.)
Maybe the bottomless wine glasses were a dream and I’ll wake up.
(she didn’t wake up)

I heard them say, “His blood turned sour long ago.”
I smiled back at the shadows, nodding my head –
yes.
(But I can’t resist the taste of bitter citrus.)

Do you paint stories across the walls of your mind?
(We accept the love we think we deserve.)
Adrenaline and attraction intertwined at last.
(When is a monster no longer a monster?)

Oh, how the moonlight dances upon despair,
(I have learned to waltz with my own shadow.)
We whispered confessions to the night so still,
(Are secrets safe when whispered to darkness?)

Listen to the symphony in the chaos we created...
(When does the hunted become the hunter?)
In a universe full of paradoxes, what do you believe?
(I stare into a broken mirror, unsure which piece is mine.)

At the edge of reality, where does it end?
Burning alive, my white dress turns into black ash,
I smile, and ask if you’re happy.
(The trees whisper back that you are.)

A pulse that never reached the air,
where the ground cracks open,
but no weight falls through.

A flicker burns,
but the flame never touches the wick.

Time folds over itself
a thread pulled thin,
but not unraveled.

A voice is lost
before it’s born,
and nothing moves to fill the gap.

Fulfillment - subconscious commitment
In what is a true - and inner peace -
For acceptance - for embroidery of oneself
In dark, almost frigidless - capability
And salvation - is no where to be found
Spit out the tongue - you almost ate it
Spit out the blood and bits - you chewed
Among the celestial thoughts of being
A timid and behaviourical brightness
In false full of 'less'-es and 'non'-s and 'in'-s
Words - neglect to be said - their weight
Is gone - with a passion - to thrive
But a lesser - is chosen - though - not you
Being the chosen one - but the vivid
Fragile and agonizing - white man's
Deals - quotes and problems - all from his head
Born from air and as chaotic

Solemnity does not speak for you
You - speak for solemnity
And if axe is - upon your head
Do you think it is late to make bet on a coin
Wishing it to fall and stuck on a rib
Wherever you make - an eager-one
To eat all of the soil - he pleaded - he raised -
He walked upon to - the soil which was the
Naturous home of his thoughts - his mind -
His believes and beginnings - nevermind
Let it drink - as like as it's been a decade
Without a bit of a rain due to greedy -
Clouds - who did not want to share themselves
That is why now the blood is sinking
'Cause the soil is drinking in a stimulus need
Not for man - for it's own sake and self
To keep breathing - getting last breaths from
Those - who fall bleeding