When all the hopes prove to be meaningless then something happens such that it left everything and keeps aside the whole world for that particular happening.
Fragile, futile, fermenting morals keep coming in the way and make us asinine in front of ourselves.
They ask, whether, "You could do it?" in such a way where saying an 'ayes' shall **** us in that guilt.
Things look recalcitrant four or five years from the past that, under no circumstances, it is something not to be happening but the supremacy always proves us wrong and changes the things in a moment so what are years?
Love is not something that enhances or gets less but it's the trust and care which aggrandizes and misunderstandings which disparages.
Even from the most hopeless paths, we see many dunes in the upcoming [back and forth] time and see no light; but there might be another 'someone' whom we are searching for and that is sitting and waiting and thinking behind that dune, 'it is not gonna end, and for me it has ended up.' Just a few steps can give 'light' to you and that 'light' something real unending.
Not just time but that faith and confidence that resides in one that urges to go with a hopeless heart and that changes everything and cause the whole surrounding to also believe, that due to these deeds, "It Comes."

My life is divided into different rooms
as is my heart.
For as long as I remember,
from the time I used to care for decorations
to the time I am too lazy to clean up.
From the moments of sweet solitude by the window
to the clinking glasses and winking eyes.
The room belonged more to them
than to me.



And I often found it unsettling,
as if on a night
when I would be hiding under covers
not knowing what to fear,
someone would knock at the door
and with that knock, would come a pair of shoes
and a set of clothes, holding a person
whose face, motive or aim
would soon be inconsequential.



And slowly she would drag me
out of each room,
snatching away each memory that she touched,
knocking down my bookcases filled with my escape,
tearing away the wallpapers
behind which I hid my unvoiced cries.
The doors would be shut on my face,
leaving me out in a storm on a moonless night,
leaving me alone to face all that I didn’t know of
taking away all that I know.

Traveled for months
to reach at the coast
though I know
rest in not something
my wings could love for long,

Because
sky is the place
I belong

I am on board on a train
silently making noise
as it crosses miles
amidst wet and velvety green
at times charming spring
sometimes like a romantic dream
or a novel better than the best
often sailing through the blazing sand
like an Arabian adventure 
it feels as the desert drills 
my soaked pores to sow 
the dry seed of aging
as I go on living like a carefree kid
at the doorstep of sweet sixteen
though the real past 
has been anything but
aim based frenzy fragments 
into frivolous pursuits 
Dos and don'ts clouding vision 
lazy days slipping out of hands
it's time to take a decisive action
that is to determine whether it will be
a terrible death on the sandy Sahara
or a walk in the Himalayan clouds.