Battling against a tide of cars and trains,
Counting the lubs and dubs that grow faint.

Penning down each tear that dries on my paper,
Concealing the eye bags from every night under an intense kohl layer.

Braving the fences and trenches that hurt my feet,
Archiving the conversations that now go obsolete.

Witchcrafting the blood moon of its glee so deep,
Staining the red from my eyes to your feet.

Crawling down from where you let others push me insane,
Ripping me apart with the echoes of 'I'll never be the same'

Uncovering the sunken eyes, shedded oodles and revealing cheek bones,
Trying to be worth a coin in a city of precious stones.

Still leaping miles towards you when a step you take back in repel,
Tickling you in fantasies to cast on you a laughter spell.

Watching those hazel eyes drool in sleep,
Embracing your aura when even my pillow does weep.

Pressing the backspace everytime I scribble verses,
Replacing the oxymorons in us with oranamental metaphors.

Letting my veins go cold n numb enough to form a rope,
Hanging everything I have n to grave shall I elope.

Bekarar rehte the tum,
Meri khabar sun ne ko,
Ab,
Na Jane Kyu bekhabar se ** gaye ** tum.

Pyaar bhari najro se,
Palak sajaye ji bhar ke dekha karte the mujhe,
Ab,
Na Jane Kyu undehka se karne lage ** tum?

Narajgi ** ya shikayate ,
Bade dhyan se suna karte the tum,
Sun Meri aawaj ko muskura Diya karte the tum.
Ab ,
Na Jane Kyu unsune se ** gaye ** tum?

Bin kuch kahe ,
Chehra pad ,Dil ki baat samjh jate the tum,
Ab ,
Na Jane Kyu nasamjh se lagte ** tum?

Jaan,jaan khete lubs mere ,
Thakte nahi the ,
Ab,
Na Jane Kyu unjaan se how gaye ** tum?

Here’s my hefty, over-lumbered
case to put you in:
suggestions on a pin
to ***** your dogma,
error’s commas captivating
run-ons with their length
prolonged for lack of strength
unseen in staying parts -
your wants is off the charts!
But needs are nadirs; we all stoop
to let them talk us into something.
Independence (*** thing) wrecks your time
and chews your peace apart.
Your heart beats out
a chapter shorter now each night -
the longing makes it right
and lubs the biggest dub of all -
recordings of the ball,
the master moldering in some storage tomb
alone for adding rooms
onto the house you’ll owe forever for.
Why snore you with my secret?
Loud man come, inventing orders -
hupping-to shreds being into blue.
Who showed me out of there?
Who whisked without a care
and smashed the batter of your special batch:
for sure, at times, a catch,
but else an error, comma,
asterisk,
rappelling down your robe of risk?