The absence of life.

Although I didn't give your words much thought, it's not my fault that you did, and now we're caught in a tangle of emotions we can't untwine.
Our friendship eclipsed, lost in the ocean of misunderstanding.

It is salvation if you dip in the inner light.
It is life if you dip in the outer light.

Let not the praise of others sway your pure heart's might

Lest your sleep suffers a snag at midnight.

Silence is the cradle of all creations.

The praise you received was too heavy to wear.

I know your soul is overwhelmed, burdened, and lost in glare.

Now you stand here, stripped of any will to dare.

Lost in the echoes of adulation, beyond care.

Let everything be understood slowly,
for in patience, clarity will grow.

When one is bedridden and confined,
the depth of one's  friendship with others unfolds.

An appetite of the soul.

An engagement with the divine.

As we dance towards the precipice of self-betrayal, the end of humanity looms.

I'm blind to anything that isn't poetic at its core.  

Seeking poetic grandeur in everything
I explore.

Who else are you waiting for?
To buy your empty heart and inject
it with his life giving breath.

I have only ever engaged in meaningful conversation when I have been silent.

Not right? Get rid of it, with swift conviction.
With newfound clarity, embrace the dawn of a new vision.

Fate is non negotiable, but I trust it

Who can fathom the depths of my plight except the verses that I strive to write?

My restless mind, a nomad of thoughts, has no home to call its own.
Yet, in dreams conjured by desire's command, it constructs grand and vast castles.

Oh, dear poet, the poetry you wrote
have stirred a sonnet boom in my heart and it's tearing me apart.

The spiritual discourse was over, my soul felt so strong,
thought my mind was clear, but I was surely wrong,
But as I left the hall, rain poured with no remorse,
I cursed at life, as I walked back into the hall distraught,
I realised that my mind is a slave to the elements, not higher powers.

I have no problems letting my mind, which is a wild and free river of thoughts, flow in any direction—even if it occasionally gets drawn in by illusion—as long as it's flowing in the direction of my soul.

You bestowed the gift of memory upon me, and they now proudly adorn my soul as a timeless treasure. If you have any more such gifts, don't keep them to yourself; I'd love to wrap them around my soul and illuminate you as well.

I came to see you, seeking your  help was just  an alibi.
For in your presence, dear friend, I found a gentle haven where pain could be subdued.

An unforseen begining and a familiar ending, whimsical dance of time in the vast expanse of imagination.

Silence is the abode of the soul.

Divinely, what's within is true.
Outside objects crumble and wither in this transient world where time truly flies. To become whole, learn to love who you are inside.

Please mend our broken spirits and make our sufferings serene.

The screen is me, the actor is me, and the viewer is me. I'm aware.

Why then do we fuss and agonise?

When within our very selves, the drama played lies?

Sincerely, the present is more meaningful than the past and the future.

Because it enslaves you, peace finds no takers.

In the gallery of life, let peace be our portrait—each a masterpiece of peace.

The disoriented clouds that passed overhead, fell into a distant river as rain drops and gained sanctity- a sacred transformation.

Everything is getting warmer around us, but our feelings won't.
So, together we will plunge into the abyss, not alone.

In the same way that the dance of  clouds  does not disturb the sky, neither do the thoughts that fly through the mind disturb the calm and steady state of consciousness.

If, as the wise say, suffering is just a thought, then let thought bear the burden, not you.

As mere flickers of consciousness, glowing fleetingly, we illuminate the consciousness with the flames of our imagination.

Fragments of morality are being carried away by winds of hatred while we gorge on travesty, day and night.

Life is a picture painted on the canvas of chaos.

Desires slay shame and regret, filling life with guilt.

A true friend emerges like a ray of hope when all else seems lost and gloomy shadows cast a long shadow.

Be the most beautiful expression of creation.
Breathe life into every heart that has sunk into despair.

Every line, stanza, and verse I write is a tribute to life.

Let peace be the new language our hearts shall speak.

Let it mend the wounds that hatred has wrought.

Do we really have to struggle so hard to survive?
it's a question that lingers in the minds like unexplained fears.

Life unfolds as a journey of aimless strides, time has abandoned faces, and shadows have lit souls.
Just as a thunderclap fills an empty cave, the experience is void.