Work It Out
Work, I could bring you home, But you wouldn’t stay; I am a man Who knows your secret too much, And you would hear my thoughts, I talk that much. I hate the idea of you To be done, You are a serpent The world
Tag Archives: poem
Watch Me Die
Consumed, Confused, I lie awake, My life’s at stake, I am back to ground zero. They say there’s no hero; I tried to be one, Son of a gun! They are all blind! My eyes couldn’t find Hope to keep me up at night, Or
Written
Did you know? You were born in kisses, Moulded with slurps Of my sloppy lips, You didn’t know what it was then Or what together meant. You just take love for granted, Just as you take breathing now. Your birth wasn’t a mistake, But a
The Crying Child
What ails you, child? Why cry you wild? The journey is yet to begin; The world is crook and pain And outright insane; It hides in its ways, Mysterious days, Hurt, that has yet to find a name. It will a play a game That’s
The Nomad
Sandwiched between places, I am a place Without a ground To call my own. I go here, I go there, Yet I am nowhere For a while; My while eats them alive. They talk in whispers, How my presence Bothers their heartless bodies. You wanted
Mirrors
I feel nothing, nada, When I browse through all the faces in my time. Sunny ones, smiling kinds, contented minds, Adventures hide inside their green eyes. People are strangers without their thin masks; They wear them to pose a split second sign To create an idea
Stiletto – A Short Animated Film
I have always had a thing for animation. Good news is that I have ventured into this department as well. I bought myself a good One by Wacom Graphic Tablet and it’s been serving the purpose. So far, so good! If you too have some animation
The Boy Who Cried Love
Moments pure wash up my gate, My eyes hold rivers of faint memories That pour out one by one, Like a touch of a girl in my hand – Soft and not from this world. Of whispers sent through the wind When I was too
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.
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