Firelight Affairs & Atmospheric Starlight,
Rainbow Instincts Enlightening Her Satellite Twilight,

Quivering Symphonies & Colorful Voices,
Lyrical Abstracts Of Her Monochrome Noises,

Prismatic Rage In Her Eternal Sage,
Resonances Whispering Her Voices Onstage,

Vertical Ensembles Of Her Ecstatic Fashions,
Witty Odes Enlightening Her Arrested Passions,

Prancing Temptations & Provoked Mysteries,
Entrancing Her Artistic Waves & Surging Tapestries,

Storyteller Flares On A Perpetual Lease,
Intoxicated Mirrors Of Her Spiritual Release,

Lucid Memoirs & Condensed Revelations,
Inquisitive Glances Of Her Cupid Flirtations,

Crimson Armors & Her Reflective Scents,
Illustrious Serenity Embossed In Her Scenic Ascents,

Fluoresce Echoes & Her Scenic Prelude,
Coalesce Spotlights Guiding Her Summer Nudes.


- 01:24AM -

My mother asked me what was my best and favorite year.
I said 2002.
Because in 2002 I was a happy 6 year old. My father was the only man I loved and my mother was my best friend. The only stress I had was getting up early to go to school.
Money didn’t mean anything to me. Survival wasn’t important. The media was just a loud picture box. And opinions were irrelevant. Just Saturday cartoons and the world being the color baby blue.
From 2002 and so on and so forth, everything started to change. Baby blue was turning to a less charismatic gainsboro; and then a Spanish gray.  
Before I knew it. It was 2006. The loud picture box was now a god. 2010 is where Mr. Washington and Mr. Lincoln were now looked as tickets for treasures. Second to last is 2014 where you'd get awarded for taking a **** and then forgotten that same week.
Now it's 2016. Far away from the baby blue. Far away from the pastel pink sunsets I use to gaze upon my second floor apartment balcony.

Tired is now a common word.
Napping is a blessing.
Stress is all too familiar.

And as everyday goes by, the farther I feel from ever having that 2002 feeling again.

~~<3~~

My love, do you still remember me?
The vow  we made under this mango tree
I was younger then while you were old enough
But in my heart I knew you're my better half
~~
Your face that time, it's painted here inside
After the wedding, we had that romantic ride
We took that road riding on a pretty white horse
You were holding me throughout the journey, of course
~~
But suddenly a storm came while we're on our way
You've loosen your grip, we didn't make our day
A strong wind got me while you were thrown afar
We've been apart, heart-broken like victims of war
~~
My love, do you still remember me?
Two years and more, we're here under this mango tree
Now, I'm tracing the carved hearts with our names entwined
Wishing that like them, you and I have that strongest bind
~~
My love, do you still remember me?
Until now, your memories never set me free...

~~<3~~

Tu mera dil (you are my heart),
Tu meri jaan (you are my life),
Jaan-e-jaan (the life of life)…

Here I am, awaiting rain
Awaiting a band of colours
To shimmer upon these eyes in pain
To clink into these ears disdained
To delight this mind of fears, memoirs and shame

There you are, it is you
You embody all the colours
Within the rainbow of my imagination
Within the verses of this ovation
Within the message carried in my creation

The power of doubt
Corners me, I wander about
I look at the sky for answers
When the sky’s dropped you down to sing them out

Emcompassing sheer valour
Giftwrapped by your voice so tantric
I’ve come to terms;
There is only one colour –
– The colour of music.

You have imprinted all your memories here,
And now you do not have to at all fear.

You just tell me what and I will not just hear,
With all my soul I will always strive to listen.

You look beautiful in the night lamp dear,
For all the beads of your sweat will glisten.

You look gorgeous with those pearls there,
From your forehead they all are descended.

You appear youthful with those curls there,
Around your ears they all are so nicely coiled.

You appear deadly with those curvy eyes,
Lucky me I'll cherish their charms for lifelong.

You look fabulous with your lips quivering,
Even in my dreams I have not been luckier.