Drowning Stars
City lights, You have drowned all my stars! Can I hate you more for Painting over my canvas? The quiet time of the lovers, Who used to prod for answers in the vast Had a world to explore; You have smeared it with your din.
Category Archives: English Poetry
The Philosopher’s Lullaby
Do you go to bed to eat your day? To make your misery go away? Or because your eyelids fall Whenever you try to stay awake? Are you waiting for a point in time To snooze yourself till you reach there? But all the unpleasantness
Our Time
You are thinking about my world In your world, I am a dream You can wipe out With a mere thought Spent on someone else. I will be gone in your momentary disregard For the better part of the day, But it doesn’t work that
Crossroads
I have four ways to go, When I pick one, I find another four Down the road When I am on one, I think about the other three I left behind. What if one of them Held a different face? That would have taken me
That Place You Visit Everyday
Walls are closing in, Everyday I am here I smother myself a little, Yet I shoehorn myself in Into the world’s most hated place; When you are not in love, Everything turns into distaste. Aren’t we checking into a stockade Of chasm to find our
Utopia
When you are loved for every breath you make, Praised for every step you take, When you ask you get your own realm of space, When you walk and you reach a place, When you talk and they lose the presence around, When you are
The Burrowers
What world? We have a world of our own, It isn’t as bright, It is devoid of light, But we can see, Unlike you. Isn’t that the dream? We feed on what you leave, We live on what you love, We leave nothing like you
Boundaries and Walls
People seek ‘their’ people in people When they get lost in an uncaring lot. They wear symbols to stand out, Carry clothes that talk loud of a place Demarked on a patch of land called home. They smile, when they do, at their reflections, And
Insane Eyes
Eyes of glory, Eyes with a story, You hold my gaze with reflections of a star; I think they are diamonds you wear for eyes. If you hadn’t turned around for a furtive glance, I might have failed to notice your eyes looking into mine,
Children of Pain
I know it is hard to get, But those little soft fingers You have rolled up in your palms Are anything but innocent; They have scraped against someone’s insides; You have come from a place of pain. They have suffered in silence When you were eating