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I've been looking for glass sheets
For clear majestic views
But a dreary kaleidoscope I find
Among the wreck and ruins
So strucked was I
To gain pleasure
In those mocking patterns
I've been looking for seashells
For silvery water outbreaks
But sea urchins I dwell
So strucked was I
To love the stingy pain
As I get abased
With the thorns by lane
I've been looking for empathy
But all I discover is cruelty
I've been looking for better
But all I found is clearly opposite..
Don't know the accurate reasons of analogy between thoughts and reality..
midst the sparkling stars
sailed a luminous moon
chartering night seas
 Jan 2018 The Forgotten
Born
chains
 Jan 2018 The Forgotten
Born
Your feeling like that word
"decapitated"
torn shredded and dumped into oblivion

He's been wheeling that lie
"justice"
shackled and duct taped
frightened by casual bullets

You've been living that life
"self loathing"
memories devoured you of existence

They emit that stench
"slavery
humbled by deceptive characters

She's been lonely
" love"
is what hypocrisy promised
 Jan 2018 The Forgotten
Born
5
                   a
               e      r
           y             s

since I joined hello
a larva with a torn soul
Clinging to Whatever's left of life

since I started scratching for light
Peeking at the  deeming tunnel
but still hoping

since I started dinning with poets
eating haiku in the morning
drinking sonnet in the afternoon
feeling the aching agony of the broken in the evening
falling in love with the dreamers at night

Since my heart was pounded
wrecked and left with unspeakable pain

Since Born was birthed
a crawling character that was literally dying
but still screaming for hope, love and dream

Since Ismael Ibrahim aka Born
stopped existing
and started living
I appreciate every single one of you for making this journey possible. In good, bad and worst I poured out my heart to you guys and you showed me nothing but love. Thank you
Driving through a remote highway in a thunderstorm,
winds howl
deafening the ears craving for a consolatory and palliative sound
the welkin lit by the fire flashing across the clouds.
The rain
****** the cars.
The thunder
seemed like a dying drummer of a battlefield.
The fiery sky
ushered callousness into the deserted streets.
A mixed feeling of fear and loneliness, anxietic trepidation and forlorn..  
Suddenly,
appeared a bridge.

Lighted feebly by a bygone light post
flickering,
like the breath of the dying.
As soon as I allowed the bridge
to place its hand over my head,
the noise dampened.
the uneasiness decreased.
the war ended.
and the drummer took a moment to rest his head upon his drum..
a sigh could be felt.
there was a sense of composure and calmness
Kept hidden in the unfriendly localities outside.
The heart wanted to stay,
to be wrapped in the serenity.
The pacifying feel
like a mother holding her child.  
like a wounded soldier,
who returned from the war zone, being taken care and healed by love.. but soon as I left the warmness of the friendly area..
the thunderclaps welcomed me like they got their prey back..
the winds
growling against my windshield like an unfriendly knock at the midnight.. the blanket of darkness hides away
all the light which once seemed within the reach..
I drove back home..
but with a smile..
Smile, depicting the right prediction of  ending up in the same place from where I had been continuously trying to get out..
with a glow on face..
Glow, created by the fire which had been burning everything in front of me..
The tears, though invisible,
reminded me of the lows I deserve.
doing right, yet losing
was a habit now.
I marked another red on my ledger but without any jolt.
A sigh
was enough
to show that I was back.

That calming, comforting, gentle, peaceful, reassuring, restful, alleviating, consoling, easing, mollifying, pacifying, relaxing, relieving, remedying, softening, warming feeling was you.


That bridge was you.
#first_one
#unsaid
 Dec 2017 The Forgotten
PrttyBrd
When the thought of an absence
tears at the spirit
leaving a vacuum in its place
Perhaps it shall be called love

When a life would freely
be given for another
without thought or hesitation
Perhaps it shall be called love

When the happiness of another
means more than ones own
Perhaps it shall be called love

When walking away is the only option
to allow for that happiness
Perhaps it too, shall be called love
32014
Out of stardust from the sea
More than what we thought we'd be
We've come do far from sinew and bones
To our new computerized homes
Each time any tries to step back from nature
It pulls back, luring us closer
For as much as we live in this space
It lives in us, in every place
 Dec 2017 The Forgotten
Jazeera
Once upon a time,
There was a girl
Who met a Shakespeare
They were from different places
With the same passion, poetry.

She was hopeless, until now
He was all set for a bright life.
She walked in darkness
Then,he filled with light.
She had fallen once
Now he's there for a hand.

He was her Shakespeare
she loved his every lines.
He welcomed her into his world
The world of outstanding poetry.

she felt her ship has anchored
After a long journey in the Pacific.
Thought of writing a poem for my Shakespeare
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