In the depth of our existence, the ‘real us’ dwells,
which often remains untouched, ofttimes unspelled.

Don’t empower the peeps to impose their thoughts,
Be the brainchild of your conviction and you’d be sought.

Books that ****** ideas and structure our notion,
Make us go astray from our real aspiration.

Don’t let the world dilute your soul;
You are a born sierra, not a trivial knoll!
-Elina Dawoodani

if i dig deep enough
surely i will find

true root of you
all i need of you
never given

once denied it seems
i must pine as tree to be
obsessively in love but perhaps

tis only envy, mortography
memorography, encapsulating me,
it won't last, tis just a mood

nothing a spell cannot be unspelled
but letters & songs they matter
more than we imagined
we are caught in between what

we felt then & where we want to be

who knows where

the time

goes?

remaining mortal is
curse enough
our love is mortality
writ in water, not dust

thus it lives on

because I wrote

it so

It was a perfect
cover.
I ask you to let me go,
and stop praying for me.

The unspelled secrets
of moon, will not bother
you now. They start pain
from thoughts to thoughts.

Like a china rose
in exile, you hang out
in solitude. Not dust,
but water will melt us both.

In aloneness, I will
find you on red stones-
surrounded by wolves of
memory and freezing dawn.