linen sheets
& bedposts with
sheltered
secrets

it could be
ours, the future --
it could be ours,
but it blares
with a darkened
face,

its features
like the love
we make
in secret,
away from
the prying eyes
of the industry
and the world

they think
they know
you and
what you
break for

and boy,
they are so
wrong.

The sky rushed down to meet her
Embrace her slow decay
The roots of Terabithia
Wind round her to this day
The mountains she created
Shrink down to kiss her feet
And everywhere she ran
The soil tastes bittersweet

That day, she cracked her being
Against the sharpened *****
Her fingers gently spasming
Still stuck around the rope
And all the world was emerald
It watched her fade away
The birds could barely look and
The sunshine dropped a ray

While seeing this was frightening,
So grim it took my breath,
Who knew I could be jealous

Of Leslie's perfect death?

All of my thoughts are melting
Inside my mind into a lake of dreams
In which I only see reflections
Of thou and all of thy belief

I cannot touch thy picture clear
Or grasp beneath the surface
Unless I blight or chase away
All what thou hold and bear

I can't do anything but listen
For any silent sound
Watch every detail of expression
And stay on trusted, solid ground

Unless when every light but thy
Vanishes before my eye
I see you everywhere but here
And search for thy embrace
That I can only find inside
The mere of thoughts inside my mind
I take a dive, I fall asleep
And search thou in my dreams
Inside a long forgotten place
Of inner peace and faith

I take thy hand
I hear thy voice
Until I understand

Sheets.
Beds.
Lay you
You, scent of miracle
Queen of purple
Dive with you
The lullness
The sweetness
The clouds
The home
Yet also the sting
Juice of youth sing
Not loud
Entangles me in waves
Indulge in the deluxe nature rave
Cool, mingling flame
Soothes my dame
As the mauve movement
Keep getting effervescent
The miss
The kiss
The mist
The rest
They dance and giggle freely
Fleetingly and sheepishly
Blushing as it brush against my flock of sheep
A sight of a paradox
A splash of silver fox
Comfy as its manes
Steadies my slumber
Even on a rocking lumber
With the breath of September
Keep making us enchanted under your spell
All will be swell
Thousand familiar but welcoming smell
To you I stay
We sway to heaven's way
May it turn us gay
Your nursing
Your care
Your play
It is our day
To blanket in your fields of saint

There is nothing on other planets
Only dust, sand and gases.
There is so much on the Earth
Water, plants, animals and people.
Why? Do you have an answer?
From where it came? For what reason?
Will we have an answer someday?
Science has not all answers yet.
What does say your fantasy?

The queue grows longer behind me
Few people ahead of me now
Closer and closer I come to fate
Closer now, any second
My eyes meet the officer
Will my dreams be fulfilled
Or will I live and die stuck in a nightmare?

Any second now
The clock ticks in the background
Louder and louder
Buzzing in my ear, louder and louder
The grey stone room seems to close in
My vision starts to shake
As my eyes zero-in on the officer
It is my turn now
What is my fate good officer?

Never did I imagine that it would come to this
I was always a nonconformist
But I wasn’t given a choice this time around
A land that once promised freedom
Now thrives in chains
And now so do I
What can I possibly do now
When survival rests on my conformity

My mother once told me
Before the very same officer determined her fate
To never stop fighting
There is hope in struggle
Because when you stop fighting
Your hope dies
And you’re nothing without hope.

I stand before this very officer today
With the chance to claim my freedom back
What am I to do?
Mother, what am I to do?

The clock ticks even louder
The room is vibrating with anticipation
What am I to do?
I can’t...think...

“Nakkiran, you will be a...literary control officer.”
All the books left in the world
Stories and poems of hope
Struggle, sacrifice,
Love, peace,
Happiness
Now mine to destroy
What a fate

Not mine.
I refuse.
“I REFUSE!”

Gentle winter sun,
Peeking through the hazy window,
Fiddling with your hair as your head rested on my shoulder,
While, to Florence we journeyed,
Away from the Sicilian soil,
Whose Olives kept us captives for so long.

Oh! And remember how-
The Florentine pavements answered our footsteps,
And picturesque italian figures smiled at our liberty,
And how-
The sound of mandolin, and of accordion;
The carefree ramblings,the mindless tangos in the Italian streets,
And the sheer aura of it all,
Moved me-
And how it moved you!

But it was later in Vatican,
Ah! it was then,
When God became Michelangelo for me,
And you,the ceiling of Sistine Chapel.