Category: Poetry

The world will laugh at you,
The days will swallow you,
Hell will spit at you,
Society will abandon you.

The world will kill you,
The people will rip you apart,
Hell will torture you,
Nights will haunt you.

The very air will suffocate you,
The earth will murder you,
The water will drown you,
The fire will burn you,
The ice will break you.

You are flimsy, a nobody,
Nothing to do, no one to love,
Joyless, tortured,
Falling down an infinite pit.

But persevere,
For even if your time may never come,
For even if you may never succeed,
Even if the world may never know you,
You have a friend in me.

10th December, 2019

The fire coughs, and dies,
The cold wind whistles,
The last glow illuminates the horrors,
The untamed deadly wild,
The unknown beyond.

Everyone huddles up, afraid,
Darkness surrounds them,
Suffocating and killing their minds.

The dying embers are unassuming,
Are they the tools of light, joy?
Or are they the slow anger of the night?
Are they the solace, peaceful and content?
Are they the tools for mockery and hopelessness?

The embers slowly burn out,
And the remains are red ash,
Desperately hoping for life, for fire,
For anything.
But death, as always swallows them,
And the night reigns, free.

24th November 2019

It stands tall, unchanging,
Never lost, never quite there.

The hope of spring,
Can never move its heart,
The heart of cold stone,
Of forgotten dreams.

The harsh words of summer,
Are nothing to its hard shield,
A shield that once shielded,
The madness within.

Autumn brings the cool death,
The façade of warmth kills and corrupts,
It knows, and yet nothing!
Silence in its eternal meditation.

The unending winds of winter,
They strike with fury and passion,
Not a budge, not a scratch,
Not a whimper, not a sigh.

Under a haze of the swirling clouds,
Or under the clear blue mystic sky,
Under the gray fogs of mystery,
Or under the sweltering rays of the sun,
It’s still there, and will always stand tall..

July 07, 2019

The darkness creeps up to the woods,
Pure, horrible and sickly fascinating.
The beasts whimper and scuffle away,
The nocturnals hunt, their red eyes shine.

Supernatural evils rule and roam the woods,
Their malevolent presence: frightening; killing.
Their sickly hair growing off decaying skeletons,
They are the Kings of the Woods.

But there is a tree they dare not venture to,
And that tree is sacred, for what lays on its feet:
Infinite wisdom, knowing innocence, joyful masks,
Carefree days, happy futures.

All of it is frozen, captured in the face of that boy,
His eyes stare at the night sky, seeing nothing,
His skin, full of life the other day, is deadly white,
His little hands rest on the grass, dry from chagrin.

The moon and her eternal face cry,
For something precious has been lost forever,
Condemned to the eternal void, devoid of light,
A life, blinked out; cruelly ripped off.

And thus ends the story of one little boy,
The boy who dared to hope, dared to dream,
But Alas! He never will be. And the world?
The world has all but forgotten him.

15th June, 2019

The ground flies away,
The clouds rush to me,
With their rich fragrance,
Their infinite presence.

I fly through the clouds,
Little droplets caressing me,
Finally! Free of earthly bonds,
I race off to paradise.

I rise beyond the clouds.
The hills hide the sun,
And the horizon turns a red hue.
The little stars start twinkling.

The world dissolves,
Into a collage of colors,
Like a palette full of paints,
The sky: a canvas of art.

I find solace up here,
In the majestic sky,
With the soft crisp breeze,
The rejuvenating freedom.

I am one with the air,
Free as the wind, I fly.
Soaring the deep blue sea,
I wander to realms unknown.

April 19, 2019

It rains again,
Nature reveling in her infinite power,
Spewing torrents upon us,
Driving the dry air behind.

I walk through the rain,
Defeated by my last encounter,
Runny nose and red eyes the rain gave me,
Now I carry an umbrella.

The wind howls,
Telling me to lose my umbrella,
Beckoning me to join their dance.
Calling me to play with them.

But, once bitten, twice shy,
I caution myself,
And hold on to the thin umbrella,
Protecting me from pleasure and pain.

And so I watch, wistfully,
At the trees dancing,
The winds laughing,
The water: festal and happy.

I hold my tears,
For I am not a part of all this,
The great uprising must go on without me,
So sleep will yours truly.

March 26, 2019

I ran,
With total abandon,
The road beyond me long as ever.

I left many behind me,
Trying to catch the ones beyond me,
Giving the run all my heart.

But now,
Stoping to drink,
I see myself in the water.

And my eyes,
They are dead; lifeless and hopeless.
Life has left me and gone away.

Haste makes waste.
So, I left the race,
Searching for the life that I drove away.

March 15, 2019

I feel ecstatic,
The wondrous feeling,
Of music and art running down my veins,
The uncontainable joy,
Inside me and outside me.
I drown in the beauty of the world,
Intoxicated by the sweet melodies it weaves,
Channelling it through humans,
Brave enough to shoulder it.

I feel horrible,
For I am not one of those people,
I am not brave enough, not strong enough,
To bring upon a revolution of sweetness,
In this world filled with vermin,
The world full of shuffling cynic and critical eyes,
Full of distrust and hatred and envy.

Feb 10, 2019

Small towns with stone walls,
Existed once upon a time,
Then came the calls,
And started the age of grime.

The delicious green beauty,
Got lost in the maze of pillars,
Spewing black smoke, making all sooty,
All colours lost in the dark blizzards.

The unpretentious time gone,
The industrial era had begun.
Romanticists were broken; done,
People lost hope; over nature we won.

Sluggishly, the world chugged along,
Death and decay were rampant; everywhere,
The society had an unhealthy twang,
Then things started to get somewhere.

The digital age started,
All things got vastly smaller,
Sleek, shiny and uncharted,
This age called on many-a-scholar.

Now, the sky is no longer the limit,
And we are no longer chained to the ground,
We are free sparrows, with spirit,
Trudging forward; Hope for all found.

Maybe we took a turn for the better,
I dare to hope, yet, I stop.
For the threat has gotten greater.
Hostility, politics and money are on the top.

Hope and despair revolve around us,
Never has a time existed yet,
When we are so fragile; without trust,
Metamorphosis, they have called it.

All of this makes my head spin,
It threatens to spiral me to despair.
Therefore, my thoughts now I trim,
And my fractured reality I start to repair.

Nov 12, 2018

Waiting for an epiphany,
One that is long overdue,
Hoping the incoherent thoughts;
The rambling words grow lucid.

The jumbled couplets,
The unruly sonnets,
They mock me and chase me,
Chastising me for creating them.

The broken words,
And their unique beauty,
Elude me. Their singular pulchritude,
I am unable to touch.

I sit down on the dry green,
Awaiting the time,
I will find the words to write, or perhaps,
The words to be written will find me.

After all, what is harder than
The articulation of thoughts,
Into beautiful words
Woven to perfection?

I am feeling something,
Something slithering down my mind,
Maybe the words have found me?
A pleasant tingle courses through me.

My image of me runs,
Desperately trying to catch,
The elusive cloud of words,
Then I jump, and seize it.

Then suddenly, like a fish,
It wiggles out of my hand,
And puffs out of existence,
Out of touch and out of reach.

Hence, the world vanishes,
And I stay dumbstruck,
Without anything or anyone,
To accompany me in this void.

I regain my senses,
And my social obligations call,
The pensive ephemeral solitude gone,
My thoughts completely and truly,
Abandon me.

And, hope I do,
I hope they come back,
The next time I sit and think,
I hope they stay a little longer,
Than the last time with me.

‘til then, I wait here, patiently,
Biding my time, thinking,
Gathering my knowledge, my experience,
Ready to burst out in that,
Little awaited moment of epiphany.

Sept 18, 2018