Now, I go deep in the black hole,
Peirce the fabric of space-time.
where the poets find their rhyme,
where the dramatists find their mime,
I will spot what is mine!

Love my friend is subjective
for some, it is objective

As it starts with infatuation
ends with celebration sometimes
but mostly hides in the broken hearts
of the pessimistic and optimists alike
For some, it is a turning point
for some, it is a joke
but who understands it the most?
One whose heart broke?
Or who has got so much of it to boast?
For me its a ghost
haunts me the most
when times are tough
road is rough

Also, love is a feeling.
Of each breath of your lover
so carefully being noted
that you can never forget
it is a tough bet
that you let this emotion rest
it is a test.

He looked around
is it my socks? They are lost but found.
Is it my room? It is the place where I hold my ground.
Is it my dog? He's everything but a hound.
For there was a rotten smell,
Oh, it is growing from the left where the hearts dwell!

He looked inside
Is it the unforgiven mistakes? He stayed sorry and, he cried.
Is it love? He waits resolutely till, denied.
Is it the vices, envy, distrust & their kin? He fights them till they hide.
As the stench got closer.
Oh, somehow it broke and, the clots give out the odour.

He took it in his hands,
the fragile thing came off, like drool from the glands
trying to mend the dark-pink, swift and, soft like mink
he should be delicate while it expands
and don't stretch too much of its worn-out bands
there's nothing but to try till he stands.

(When) It's a bad day you deserve, yet you've lost a medal (then)

Its time to prove your mettle
move forward, be not brittle
with friction minimized to a little
let those critics giggle
don't let your determination jiggle
just keep moving
(when) the time of redemption has come
your feet may feel numb
your conscience might call you dumb
but jump
you might feel the bump
don't lose the grip
life's your craziest trip
feel the hip-hop around you
the amazing people that surround you
the music you listen
the flute you play
It is the shaping of your clay
Use productively, the night and the day
At the time of redemption
don't go gentle on your prey
be brave, don't be a slave
Its the creation of a great world you crave
not it's grave

And yeah, this issue is grave
it needs some immediate action
if you take all the suitable steps
still, be ready for any reaction
be your centre of attraction

There is no world without you,
no, you without the world,
The world is within you.

The broken tape cassette
playing jazz to the beep on loop
running around the roulette
my soul  hanging around by a single droop

My soul won't let me give up
my mind will continue to deceive
love, I ruin, I wreak
till there's nothing to receive
water's reached my neck.

In the deep waters of solitude
I'm wet, oh I fret!
absolution I don't deserve
the time would linger
It's the nature of the sentence I serve.

To my bewilderment,
there's nothing too clear!
An ambiguous state
result of errors since antiquity.

The man can't speak anymore
for he has got
nothing to say
nobody to pray
down, down he lay