I still remember the chilling wind,
when I stood without a jacket on,
having travelled a thousand miles,
to hear out something I never expected,
Even after 3 Years,
even the faintest memory,
give me chills in the warmest quilt.
“I can’t”, She said.
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Disgusted and Tired,
I wake up in my room
and watch men walking to their offices
like a group of penguins
I feel the air grew warm and sad for me
but not warmer than my quilt
I see the day bright
but some days you want to drink darkness
and have hangovers of past
of times when you were not having a penguin suit
but just a naked scarred soul which was afraid to live like so.
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Two souls floating around,
dissolving in each other
without a sound,
in a world full of shouts and noises,
forgetting all their easy choices,
like the sky and dark clouds,
let us brew a darkness that haunts,
that torments the sun to rise,
till ages we separate from love.
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When darkness creeps to my heart
and tames my fear back upon me,
when the ghostly haunting memories
flashes in my eyes
I try not to cave in
I try not to fear
the light inside me fights back
I look for people i love
I imagine their hopes on me
I see them smiling
I then become a spark
that glows till
there is no darkness
till there is hope
till there is love
till there is life.
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Toiling hard day and night,
looks tired at every sight,
for every dream in eyes,
lonesome cries
and few delights,
still walking down the road,
he never forgets to smile,
to wish people around,
learn something new
and share what he has,
be it food,
life
and laughter,
I wonder why they call him poor.
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You all had fun,
you all drank,
you all made plans,
for the promised land,
you all played
you all loved ,
you all made your way,
to heaps of cash above,
I headed away,
I listened to heart,
I became crazy ,
falled apart,
In search for dreams,
shouts without scream,
insanity prevailed,
without a sound.
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Left cold alone,
in a blanket nude,
lies my love singing,
waiting for you,
to watch me all night,
while i hold her again,
to kiss me everywhere,
to forget all pain,
I love her dearly,
but i have more mistresses too,
All willing to lie with me,
to see me through,
my shelves are full of them,
new ones come every month
only the smell remains same,
like books there is none.
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Writings to Heaven 