We neither had the burning passion, Nor those silent conversations But deep within we had our partials Pacing towards decomposition Rotting out of 'too much'. 'Too much' secrecy, 'too much' pain. 'Too much' love.
An unpaired lung and broken ribcage; Everything in halves. Oh! If only this 'too much' had made our closeness suffer too...
Behold. I can't see you exist in semi(s) Let us conjoin.
You see, I have two faces now, A rib cage of 'ours' Where we harness love. Not a garden full of varieties, but a wild Sunflower facing darkness, obsessed of 'too much' sunlight.
Bloody scars, bloodshot eyes Breaking screams and tears rot It's weird how I demand them to be mine Though their vision only Crumbles my eternals Questions my vows!
Gradually and then all at once I wanna become a magnet Of opposite pole to your pain; Demanding one similar as yours An electromagnet - one That uses fear currents to magnetise Which fear you ask? 'Of you becoming the wounded man'
I observe this fear retaliate It lost the battle, but did win somehow I should have known He's still the mightiest "The mightiest magnet "
I will let go being a magnet Unfortunately it is in my habit. But I will continue to be The straw of happiness That sucks those tears
Before the morning sun appears, I'm awoke with poetry in my ears A sweet melody to awake all God's creatures, they seek rest neath the stars, twilights, best features, if chittering were lyrics, it would be a love song, the sliding horn sound is so moving, you'll want to sing along, it sings tirelessly each day for it has a cheerful heart, the sweet singing slows to a lullaby, as the twinkling stars impart, There perched, are singing Thrush, and they're calling it a day, stick around and watch the sunrise, and let's hear what they have to say
My mind is an accident prone road, With not enough warning signs. My thoughts sound Like tires screeching against the asphalt - Sometimes, in an attempt to avoid fatal collisions, Sometimes, to dodge gaping potholes. Strange cars rush by; too fast yet too slow.
It feels, Like I have built a home Out of an empty train- A train whose destination, Is yet to come; But seems to have passed by Long before I boarded it.
A homeless belonging in my left pocket Has a pulse of its own, And, it sky rockets and slows in perpetuity, In an inconvenient harmony With the sluggish stammering Of my hyperactive heart, They call it a dilemma born of indecisiveness.
I have become a lonely spectator, On an unknown, deserted platform. I am waiting for a train, Whose arrival eludes me; I feel like I am waiting for something, Whose importance eludes me.
It feels like a parched throat. On a day when my bottle of coherence, Long ran out on me. And, I feel stranded in the middle of an ocean, With an excess of salt water taunting me. And, I define it as a choked up plea, Meeting a misplaced mirage, Colliding with misplaced dreams.
Between every hurt and mend there comes an invisible line where in you can stagger and fall down which is stringed together by thread of what has happened to what was expected and therein lies a plethora of you, some broken,some intact.
Some say, that heartbreaks are horrendous and make you die. Some say, to love is beautiful, It sustains you.
But tell me, Aren’t heartbreaks, just love made afresh with cranky umpteen things?
क्यूँकि अगर प्यार करने से एक नायाब ज़िन्दगी हासिल हो सकती है तो क्या दिल तोड़ने पे सज़ा मिलना लाज़मी नहि? पर काएदो को यहाँ जगह देना क्या सही होगा?