The moon often visited
Our house
Looking at it from a distant window
Some nights would pass
As we would stare at the lit-up stores
Under streets of rain and fire
On the fire they would cook
Under the rain, they would drink cups of tea
As the rain would turn into heavier downpour
The cars would never come to a halt
On the fire the blood and sweat would become apparent
To bystanders
Not us who were busy wondering where the moon would be
The tea held by cupped hands would merge with the petrichor
As the days passed into absence of rain
I would wait and wait for the people to drink their chai
Under the comfort of my roof, I would wait
Wondering the homeless men who would return to nowhere
The petrichor absent for a long time
That was the season of love
I haven't felt that in a long time
Now the smell, too, has disappeared
The moon still visits
But, the wait no longer helps

I’m at home
Nothing to do
We’re all at home
Nothing to do
I wish I had
Something to do
But for now we
Have nothing to do

i write random words,
not sure someone will understand what i mean.

I am not good at poetry,
but i try to make it look clean.

My choice of words are very boring,
but please do know that i am trying.

They're all mixed up, the thoughts inside my head,
so i write poetry, for the thoughts i should've said.

Erie sight of justice behind
Lovely sight of lies delight
Women sang the words of the lord
Men followed the will of the lord

He who held power had his mind tainted with hopeless shadows
His daugther, his lover, his reason for life
Morals gone and society beheaded
Anarchy reigned and law subsided

Revolts occured and all had changed
A lost chick crying from all the beasts around him
A swift slow song echoed in the valley of torment
Slowly ended with a splatter of sadness

And the doors were shut,
Leaving me in dunggeons
of love's secrets, pain, and such.

I see them and I feel
Like am one of them
When people look they see
Torn barefoot battered people
When I look I see
Resilience,strength and determination
To be absolutely free
They are called different names
Coz they are the different ones
Lunatics,saddist,psychos,wackos
But deep inside you something echoes
All this could have been avoided
If only someone cared enough
Once upon a time they were well
With no one to tell
Their struggles and hell
And cos no one cares enough
They were consumed by that hell
If only someone cared enough
I see them and I see no condemnation
But I feel an obligation
Like an alpha to his pack of rabid wolves
To seek their redemption
perhaps if I cared enough
if I loved them enough
There can still be redemption
Albert Einstein said"there is no genius without a hint of madness"
So if someone had cared
All madmen could have been
"Mental  geniuses"
I see them and I see hope
Cos I TRULY CARE!!!
I CARE!!!
I CARE!!!
I CARE!!!
I CARE!!!
I CARE!!!
I CARE!!!
I CARE!!!
I CARE!!!
I CARE!!!

I still care
I care so much it hurts.
I care so much that it rips me up inside because I know that you're not okay. Not sleeping. Not feeling. Not smiling anymore.
I care. And that's why it burns when there are no texts. Why my heart sinks when you feed me empty responses and half-truths.
I feel like a ship untethered in the heart of a storm. My sails stretch and tear. My mast bends and breaks. The ropes and knots unwind and come undone, whipping about, wrapping around my wrists, my ankles, my throat.
I care.
I still care.
I care enough to drown. I care enough to stand in your place in the heart of the fire. I care enough to scorch my hands if only it'd mean that I could hold you and tell you that you'll be alright.
I care too much. Even when you push me further and further away. Because the harder you push, the harder I push to stay.
I refuse to give up on you.
So keep pushing. Keep hiding. Keep running. Keep lying. Keep making me feel like ****. Keep telling me I'm worth nothing. Keep shutting me out. Keep me at arm's length. Keep breaking me. Keep your secrets. Keep away from me.
And see if I care.
See if I give a ****.
Because I do.

Like a teary river trickles seamlessly in a eternal stream -
It deathlessly flows

Like a sprouting flower extends its reach to the anticipating sun-light
life of it's being -
It searchingly grows

Like the sinful wind chasing the dreams of
dreamless clouds-
It forcefully blows

Like your fire flied smile illuminate
the darkest hour of my life -
It illuminating glows

Like the checkered past cloaks from a hopeful
future, out of site-
It progressively goes

Like a mind-full poem speaking leaves a grey mattered mystified perception -
It sense-fully knows