creative-writing, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Heart, Life, Love, Poems, poetry

A dream that never ends

My veins, my blood,
all infused with star dust
The pupils dilate slowly,
to hear the dying light
pull a voiceless symphony.
I will never forget the music
for I never hear it
When it begins everything
and keeps playing
in the back of your head.
The eyes wake up,
to find itself in a house
abandoned by sunlight.
A dusty mirror greets me,
But the person inside it
is nowhere to be found.
A shadow,
A faceless image stares into
the abyss of my eyes.
Looking for answers I guess.
It has no happiness,
no sorrow,
no grief
and no pain
pained over his face.
It just waits patiently
for me to wake up from sleep
and waits again to greet me again.
It is a never ending cycle.
Of remorse, of success,
Of everything in between.
I name him ‘Destiny’
for it tells me nothing
and just waits
For me to break the mirror
and paint my answers all over his face.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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beauty, creative-writing, Death, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry, Writings

Kamikaze

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The black coat drenches,
The drizzle traces my hidden skin,
For it is so tired
of caressing the lifeless muddy grounds.

It has learned to leave my eyes untouched.
It has been practicing this for long.
His own Kamikaze,
Where it slithers on a body
full of life,
and separate lifelessly, into a bright void

Reincarnations? Nirvana?
Does it even feel like tasting them?
Just an inexplicable bursting orgasm,
that bursts its body into a million pieces.

Yeah, suck on that!
You all Religious Dickheads.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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creative-writing, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Heart, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry, Writings

Why?

How do you define complexity?
A thing that is complex in nature?

Like the blood is red in colour,
because it is red.

It doesn’t make any sense
It does make all the sense.

My breath shall leave me someday,
because it is not entirely mine

It does make me fear death.
It does not make me fear anything.

My heart yearns for someone, again and again.
Because I cannot understand the yearning.

It does make me yearn for her.
It does make me want to stop.

I don’t know why.
Why do I not know?

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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beauty, creative-writing, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry, Writings

The Facade of Symmetry

Symmetry

How brutal would it be,
to draw a line in the air on something
of interest, with your eyes:
to be in awe of the subdued parallax
and then simply call it beautiful.

Won’t your fingers itch before doing so?
Won’t they feel the need to caress the surface
before labeling its existence beyond question?

Won’t your tongue go dry of thirst
seeing its colors untasted and unspilled.

Do you really love,
symmetry to this extent?
You forgot the chaos
you were born in.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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Death, dream, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry

Forget your Touch

I swallow a room in my mind,
to digest its origins.
Its woodwork churns and mollifies,
I could feel my fingers full of sawdust and laughter,
lost handprints(possibly mine), from the dying
furniture and the floor caress my head.

You will always find a way to meet yourself,
once you are forgotten by everyone.

The lights are turning dim,
I do not know, how to serve light in a tall glass for myself?
Can you teach my fist to hold sands of darkness?
I shall learn somehow, to sprinkle when necessary.

You can learn anything, you want.
But remember to put off the light in the end.

The garden screams with its emptiness,
and my eyes could bear the shrieks.
Is this is how I forget your touch?
Without music? Without sleep?

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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beauty, creative-writing, Desire, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, poetry

Prized

Bound, tied and muted to surprise,
you lay down on my bed, naked as a prize.
I veil your eyes in this never ending darkness,
whispering to intensify this sumptuous treat,
As I pour freshly molten wax drops all over your body,
to make sure that tonight, you cannot sleep,

Come warm my hands now slowly ,
Take them between your tempting legs,
I will try to melt them with my tongue,
If you just tell me ‘Yes!’

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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beauty, creative-writing, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Love, Poems, poetry, Writings

Lament for the Untouched

How long can a butterfly with no wings
can retain its colour,

After how many touches would its fragile flesh
crumble to rust?

If only, rains were the nectar of amrut,
We would never be seen weeping near the ghats.

If only, the drought could make things disappear
I wouldn’t be preserving your ashes like this.

If only, my hands could forget raising you.
I would have dipped them in green all my life, for you.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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