You sway in the past
Linger like a beam
Of a somnolent sunshine
In its moments that swelled you up.
Try to wheedle and root yourself
Like a feathery cypress
On its ochre coloured paths.
Spread yourself like a flowering vine
All over the places and events
Captured with a fervent heart.
Cause even a single toe
Dangling unknowingly into
The external spaces
Of present
Seems to situate you fully
Beneath a cast of whitening skies
With the shape of silence
As your only companion.
Where a thousand different times
You've always struggled
To solemnly exist
In fact.

In secrecy her thoughts dwell
So discreet are her actions
That try to slip past the
Nods of harrowing disapproval everywhere.

Feelings that stumble from the mouth
Become a burning garland of despair
Is what she hears
Like a chant everywhere.

Despised is the knowledge
Futile are the facts
That she strives to glean
From the world that's determined
To reduce her size
Into a box of standardize
measurement everywhere.

The hunger that makes her assertive
With a vision of a lioness
And a vigour of an athlete
Is seen as anomaly
A jarring discrepancy everywhere.

In thus a queer, uncanny world
She's forced to exist
Suspected as a devil
Rather than a marvelous human everywhere.

Dear one,
The trial of your slow waning, is what haunts me like a wretched spirit. The way my dayly moments, that used to resonate with thy invaluable presence are dwindling like a destitute's wealth, renders me a maniac, ridden with an inexorable anguish. What am I supposed to do. I cannot lift these sacks of grief. Enfeebled by a dolour, tis like I'm fighting a lost battle, with a forlorn capacity. Nary a thought grips me still. Thine picturesque glance, the blithe cadence of thine lips, upon which I nurtured and reared banquets of poetry, now tend the flames of a halcyon past, that singes me with a rapacious melancholy. The throes of longing imprison and harass me till I'm cemented within a dank spite for myself, and ruefully discard any smidgen of reprieve. Beloved, I'm a convinced bearer of countless blunders I agree. Mine miserable apologies will only vacate the gasoline of thy peace. But a miniscule opening is all I seek. With reverent hope, I beseech thee. Indeed, for I will become a bane for myself without thy caress to redeem me.

Adoration reigns supreme, like a never lost battle
Every word, every act expresses a tale of untold desire,
/
Nothing seems to placate, the restive thoughts that rattle
Everything burns and heats, in an incredibly untamed fire,
/
What then aches to be released
Like a jaunty bird from inside a trap,
Are unheard, muffled truths hidden within heartbeats
That seek some reason to eagerly unwrap,
/
So long as they’re coerced to solemnly stay
Within the confines that imprison their devout expression,
/
All the seasons will persistently make way
For the sins and crimes of an inordinate, unrequited passion.

There's this unforseen announcement
An unanticipated dissemination
Of an abstract, unsolicited thought
That ricochets within every single cell
Of my facade
And furtively causes
A mass hysteria
A bedlam which I am
Unable to dominate.
Then there's this smoke
A bevy of pungent fumes
That rises insidiously from
The blight of all my sense and sanity
And the ensuing frustration
That yields nothing
But a night full of relentless tossing and turning
And a dawn full of panicked breaths
That renders my anatomy
As scarred and stricken
Yet leaves it to trail
Amid the gusty shores of life
Anyway

You look beautiful, with a matchless splendor,
The taste of your voice
Breathtakingly delectable
To all the four senses
Eager to embrace you
With a sprightly endeavor,
You seem like an aesthetic vision
That I'd love to comprehend
With the mind of a cartographer
And eyes brimming with happiness,
You feel like a melange
Of glowing colours
Shedding those petals of dusk
That bind the hope of dawn
For a budding floret,
I only wish that somehow
I was able to map the distance
Which spreads persistently between
Your presence and my reverent arms,
Before it's too late
And this life spirals away
In meaningless motions and tasks

He follows the same orbit
Everyday
In the same motion,
Devoid of any thrilling emotions,
With desperate dedication
Without changing the pace of his muscles
Or the direction of his notion
Day after day
He isn't allowed to run
Or shift, tilt, step
Even a tiniest bit,
away from this linear trajectory
Which he tries to bruise and beat
Using the enduring might
Of his legs
Yet every morning
He opens his eyes
To the searing light
Of a sun
Pushing and shoving him
Mercilessly,
Towards the place
of his daily grind
And exertion