A shaft from the golden sun,
reclined peacefully in my lap.
The amber gleam reflected back,
and gently baked the solemn land.
An ardent whisper furnished the woods
with a viridescent scent that woke up the woods.
Silver songs of sleek streams,
chased the lullabies away;
gently.
Ancient tress cuddled the wind,
their leaves clapped in sheer bliss
The broken winged white eyed bulbul,
warbled hymns to lift the curse.
Scarlet tainted vintage letters resting in the rustic mailbox,
await your tender touch; while they chant for a past long gone.
But lily livered clouds,
they have turned your courage into a yellow illusion.
So now defy the toxic words and the errors you made,
A different person inside your skin, long ago, burned our hearts on the hateful flames.

A fierce growl shattered the vampire's coffin
The wood cracks and the monster is awake
Hurry! Dig a pit for the creature to hide
Burn it before the sunrise
Oh do not let the world encounter this chaos
No one should see the vile mien
of a ferocious blood ******* entity
That thrusts its teeth deep into the delicate skin
and schemes for barbaric damages.
Look!
The naive creature stands with utter dainty
A revolting smirk sleeps on its face
Pale skin and a bloodshot gaze
An evil snicker revealed the fangs
See how the eyes move with hostility
Like a venom injected in the name of brutality
Sharp nails and clenched fists
Searching for a throat to slit.
The air now breathes a vengeful sigh
Like a wild beast craves to die
Dark shadows lurk behind the curtains
Silent whispers yodel about a burden
The creature stone eyed, stares back
I breathe quietly under the horrid impact
There!
It is coming my way
I can feel the intruding fear of a feeble prey in my veins
Finally, as if the monster made its mind
It opened the mouth in a solemn cry
A shrill voice so piercing, it shattered my facade
I fell on the ground like a broken glass
It was no monster or a Dracula that howled
Ah yes, my own reflection scared my soul
Years of self hate and agony prevailed
And I have been ******* on my veins in despair
My corrupt heart no longer beats
Darkness dwells in its core; so deep
Now watch the results of constant infight
I am nothing more than a mere parasite
A ray of sun touching me toes,
The toxic  memories fading with the tick tock
Once again, I repair my coffin
And slither into a sound slumber on the symphony
Of a robin.

I'm sorry
If I woke you up last night
My pen told me secrets in whispers
And I carved scars and tales
Of silly incantations and
old fallen trees
Of silver days in summer breeze
and tattered amber sundresses
Of apple bites and ripe grapes
near the broken glass on the carpet; they decayed
Ashes danced on my lips; sculpting poems on my skin
and flicking cigarette on my wounds
Smudged mascara and dulcet memories
Leather fabricated journals of vintage times
hiding crisp carcasses of yellow daises
Euphonious chortles and
early morning smiles
Forgotten tea leaves in the teapot
and ginger bread turning cold
Sun rays, like gold dust, sparkling in the air
Through the tall trees of a forest
hanging on the clouds in despair
First day of Spring, magical it is
like a caterpillar's fate
Silky cocoon, shiny chrysalis,
emerging out as a butterfly
Leaving as old and embracing the new
Igniting the sky over my purple roof

Green.
That peeks through my window
and craddles me to sleep.
Green.
That caresses my hair and whispers sweet.

Green.
That sips the vibrant rain
and drinks the dew deep.

Green.
I seek your blood that accepts no creed.
Green, I live.
Green, I bleed.
Green, I find no color so keen.

I sprinkled sunflower petals in the warm water,
to make it gold.
Then dipped my body quietly in the bathtub,
to wash my tainted soul.  
The morning light peeked through the lemon coloured glass,
while the fading fate dissolved in the pearly waves of my lash.
My lifted hand reached for the sunlight,
the feeble fingers swayed like dandelions.
A swollen gaze perched on the broken mirror,
a burning sensation impregnated my chafed lips; turning them bitter.
The beauty they preach about is not divine,
nothing in this world stays sublime.
The saffron tinted ancient walls,
kissed the amber tiled floor
Everything fire; everything gold,
yet no power can assuage the murkiness of my soul.
My dear Van Gogh how could you think?
that the yellow, if you eat, will lift your spirits?

Little famished people left after they were born
A tiny old place can no longer be their home
Little acquisitive people travel to the cities
Soon their greed seize their courtesy
Little naive people disguise so well.
“Let us add a white shade to our scarlet blood.”
Little grey people complain about the world
A tear or two should ‘justify' their ‘love'
Little learned people fight for human rights
Dazzling crystal goblets clink on every ‘I'
Little erudite people cherish old tombs
But they forget the life spent in the womb
Little fading people live no life
Hence they regret as they retire

Last night, I wrote poems on my skin and hid the scars.
Carved some stories and spilled ink.
A beautiful mess killed a life within.
Don't give me up that fast.
I may not be worthy of holding your hand.
Rose water and holy smiles,
I'll learn to keep your world bright.
Don't throw the flowers away.
I like to keep them for my sake.
No, I understand.
Little people sleep in sand.
Why are the voices loud?
Can I say what my heart desires?
I can't breathe, will you bury me in white?
Oh! You can't hear me.
The clock ticked, you have a meeting.
Adieu my friend, I shall be leaving.

It explains
All childhood gains
The damp soil and people all plain
How easy was it to obtain
Fritter, butter, tea , paratha on a plate
And the gentle smile gone not in vain
Of weak limbs and sight living their tales
A sudden flash and all is blind
A slight whisper and all is behind.

Dead feelings
Rotten sighs
Gazing at
My firefly
A broken dream
A shattered life

I am dying.
With the crimson gentle stroll,
of the parched winter glow.

I am dying.
Of the thorns dwelling within the whisper's den,
and the menacing spikes of my broken pen.

I am dying.
From the agonizing tempest that pervaded my soul,
it is no more a riddle; an Apocalypse is born.

You say
that you're hurt.
That you seek
a fair choice.
Dear one,
even a flower wilts.
When the sun undresses it,
desperate for the maniacal love making;
and the bees **** the honey.
The petals turn dry
when the nectar leaves.
And so it rests on the ground.
Open and wasted;
thus enjoys an eternal sleep.

Give me a cello
I shall play you a melody
And my fingers will compose stories
Over the rustic strings

Give me a knife
I shall peel my skin
And show you the wound
That was born with your words

Give me a needle
I shall make you a quilt
And stich a pattern of wasted time
And infinite bundle of warmth

Give me a shovel
I shall dig my grave
And bury my soul
So you would not have to
Carry my sorrows anymore

A long time ago I walked this path
Its cracks and holes narrate grey tales.
A long time ago I watched this road
While the sun gently poured its gold.
A long time ago I saw the end
When the colours of the winds were not dead.

Summer is here
Come let's watch the sky
Colors are near
In the orchard we walked by.

Summer is here
And so are they all
Let's smile together
Before it's fall.

O ! Dazzling rays of the sun
Embrace the air
And say the words
I have seen the light
hovering above lilies
And my reflection on water
Shivering and quivering
The path I stand on provides me the shelter
To hold no past , to await no future
I rise up again
With every morning I speak
I come in peace and prosperity