Category Archives: Prose

Death, Help, Imagine, Prose, Random thoughts, Writings

Within

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Within me,
lies an irresistible urge,
a dark one indeed,
that would not fathom beauty,
nor the brave,
that consumes darkness,
that needs slaves,
that is biased,
that is superstitious,
that tells me things,
that makes me see void taking shapes,
it isn’t scary,
no it isn’t indeed,
when I showed,
the world where I lived,
it has been down there since,
cornered in the heart,
it refuses to come, even after it’s dark.

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Freehand Writing, Imagine, Life, Nostalgia, Poems, Poetry, Prose, Random thoughts, Uncategorized

The Blessing

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Blessed are those for whom the sky,
is beautiful as it was,till they die,
the wind remains an echo
of voices familiar,
it’s the dear ones, alas!
of whom they wanted to hear,
friends are the ones who are always around,
no wounds are open,the heart is sound,
lullabies are heard in the beautiful night,
with stars dancing giving invite,
the storms are far, the battles aren’t true,
sun is gleaming over the morning dew,
love is not a distant dream ahead,
head has no control over heart instead,
pain is over,fiesta is true,
I had a similar dream,did you too?

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attempt, Freehand Writing, india, Poems, Poetry, Prose, Writings

Ashes of Future

Ashes are that remain,
when you burn everything,
flying away with inadvertent pain,
letting you know the missing,
ashes of future,of unfinished acts,
which were let go,
because of time you never had,
they could have been memories of past,
a delightful one,waiting to last,
if you would have trusted the guts,
and never step backed as such.
if you would have raised the bar,
for the dreams,
if you would have listened to the fire,
deep down,
if you would have believed,
that with every burn,
ashes do rise but never as the phoenix,
of  winsome times.

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Freehand Writing, Poems, Prose

I don’t know how to write like me

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I don’t know how to write like me,
i search inside, i question my dreams,
i have been dragging words,
or they have been dragging me?
i don’t know how to write like me,
i wrote in the day, i wrote in the night,
i even tried visiting the beach side,
i heard voices but none was me,
i don’t know how to write like me,
i read great authors, i read great poets,
i met interesting people to write like me,
still when i raise the pen, delusion is all i see,
i don’t know how to write like me,

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Poems, Poetry, Prose, Random thoughts

Paradox of Choice


Sitting on the writing desk,
writing through papers without rest,
till i feel numb,
and the path makes me astray,
i ponder to the inner self,
on questions feeding on my soul,
as who decides what is right ? ,
the conscience or the heart,
who decides what is fair?,
the choices or the heart,
who decides the bad?
the outcomes or the heart,
and who would choose to follow the heart?
the sufferer or the mighty?
the sad or the happy?
the dumb or the clever?
the coward or the darer?
the wisher or the lover?
the winner or the loser?
the sinner or the preacher?
and the writer or the reader?

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