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

Discovering Forgetfullness

As long as I remember,
I always wanted to be real
with my words.

But I will always be a chalice,
born with a thirst for wine.
I can never fill someone’s belly.
Forget about his thoughts for now.

I always wanted to be the pause which you have,
after you forget a dream, while you are still in bed
and the winds drape the shrouds of silence.
It is then when we realize
that even after having everything,
something slips off and floats away.
Our fingers were made to measure by him,
so no matter how deep we dig with them,
We can never dig out the dream we yearn to remember.

There is a reason he made us a child first,
and not as an adult,
for he wanted us to learn to forget everything
and still be the same.

 

© Shashank Bhardwaj

 

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

A Henchman’s Dream

black coffee on the table,
clean cold steel-chiselled Glock

loaded and placed in the bed-drawer.
The sharp wire that smells of the skins

and flesh it has strangulated. A black pair
of gumboots, a black overcoat, a black void

of past. A distant daughter who loves strawberries,
cats with abhorrence for your existence.

Cadillac, a pair to tan gloves, a love for silence,
love for the sight of eyes turning red, pleading

A packet of cigarettes, a bottle of Miller’s
An emptiness that spreads, a death that patiently lives.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

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

The Desert of Dreams

I swirl beneath the red leaves.
The song of my loneliness
Is the song of an earth,
abandoned by the sea.

I dream of a hearing a cacophony
near a dark sea, used to whispers
of silence. Fear is a death wish, disguised;
and not a ominous enemy.

I close my eyes
and the world stands still.
I wait for an another dream of ocean,
while standing in the desert of dreams,
where I killed, a thousand dreams
without shedding a tear.

– Shashank Bhardwaj

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