To death

Death my fickle mistress!
Where art thou.
For long have I searched your bosom,
And yet to kiss that hem.
Your glimpses are of bliss,
Dreams of the cold embrace.
Cold I do not mind,
Warmth was never for me.
I have sung this song for long,
I am tired of my nights.
Little smiles are me,
Those smiles I find not anymore.
Duties are never done,
Mirages always leave unsung.
What little I have seen,
You my lady, why art thou afraid of me.
Needs I beckon thee with deeds,
Or will a flint beckon thee.
I have no plans of living with you,
Your dominion either holds no glee.
Touch me once and forget,
Wither me inside and I may care not.
My lady intimate
When thou nurtured a kid,
What grouse thou hast against me.

A smile

Wish a smile.
A million stars there be,
But be one moon in me.
What price be a smile,
A lie even tell it to me.
Hook a nose, cringe that head,
Forget the night,
Wish a smile to me.

A thief

Once upon a time there was a thief. He was an artist. The art of stealing. All the kingdom's, all the kings, and all the vaults he stole from. So much so that people started using him to test their vulnerabilities. They would let it known that their vault was the best. The thief knew but for lack of a challenge he kept on. With every passing day he was better. But alas!
The locksmiths had none to offer. Our incorrigible thief then proclaimed to the world, a challenge, to prove a locksmith worthy of honor.
Many came. All left with but their dignity. The thief grew restless. One fine night came a letter. He opened it up and his eyes lit up. In there lay the work of a life. The magnum opus of thiefdom.
The night after our thief went and returned with a piece of the puzzle. Night after night he went. Every night he brought a part. He then realized the puzzle, part by part. His heart grew heavy. He realized that he loved the puzzle. Piece by piece he fell. With every passing day, the more he stole, the more he loved. A day came when he had all. He slept in peace, but all the kingdom was distraught. Children were scared. Elders grew mad. And then there was chaos.
The thief realized that the life of the world lay in his pockets. A thief never gives back. The day was heavy. The artist weary but resolute. And then he knew what he had to do.
He toiled. Every night he returned. Every night a piece restored. Every night he would sigh, but for the children he went back. Every night he put a small piece back. Along with it, a piece of him went. His heart would be wrenched and still he kept going. Finally on a night he was alone again. He looked up and there among the stars was his love. Time stopped.
For himself till this day he steals the moon for his heart. And then gives the moon back to them that love her.
The thief knows not and cared not. He never asked the moon. Never did he ask, what it feels to her to be stolen. To be in pieces and whole again. In his heart he knows not all. But for a life he will steal, for else he remains not a thief. But the bards ask. They see not him. They ask of the moon. Where she leaves her pieces and who gathers them back. The moon always smiles. For she tells not all.

Love amongst strangers.

Where we feel,
Deep down there is a knot,
One tangled thought.
And then there is this longing,
One that eviscerates,
All that is me.
Lost in circumstance,
Love amongst strangers.
Love changes not,
But in love there be love,
Oh how to portion my heart.
Pieces I could make,
And not lose it all.

Passing by those streets

I have passed by these streets.
Then I did count each brick.
I remember each groove I skipped by.
I remember looking at people passing by.
remember their smiles, their love.
I see the water under the bridge.
The reflections never could blind watery eyes.
How I wished I never was here again.

Scared

When doubts feed,
The tree gets not green.
The canopy that was thins,
The roots decry what has been.
A doubt, a circle of its own,
A self fulfilled prophecy.
Doubts I will not let be,
Harsh I am to countenance,
Naive too I may be.
But temperance in me is weak,
Doubts cannot be all that we be.
Mistakes I have made,
And I do learn.
A little patience my kid,
Today I have learnt.
A tree needs love and belief,
The strength of faith and true,
Love questions not a value,
I have yet to prove my worth.
Prove I will,
Even though my walls be empty.
Love holds no hostage,
Love finds not all.
Bounds we can set,
For a room be too small.
One soul is not easy to make,
For souls have a will not of their own.
What we live with is not a curse,
Whom we live with is not a curse.
The heart rejects but deeds will be done,
Do we look at deeds and love begone.
A lot we can fake,
but a evening will hold true,
my evening at the shores of life,
My tryst with unwilling strife.
Deeds may be done,
days may pass,
But a heart solemn lay where it does,
Deeds forgotten is a cowards way,
the way to grave is not with promises undone.
Promises with hearts are the hardest to keep,
Them that are broken do silently weep.
Regrets galore do we carry in life,
Myriad ways to justify our keep.
Haven't got a strength to live a lie,
thousand lies can I tell but die with one.
What truth there be but a grave will conceal,
ways need not be always to heal.
Needs be a path if we walk alone,
A hope remains,
the next fork will be my loneliness undone.
with faith I will walk,
for faith is always what we have,
for a hand that loves is never away,
A night may be alone but there is a day.

Little do word's mean

Feelings create strange deeds,
Poems that mean naught,
But paint a true thought.
Great things a mind forgets,
The deeper words a heart feels.
When reason paints not a canvas,
True does the bard sing.
Long have I made poems,
But life lay not in it.
But when a heart speaks,
Even belligerent words heed.
Little do I construct,
little do I rhyme,
This day I feel a bitpoet,
For truth I speak to thee.
No colors my words paint,
But what colors my eyes see,
Little will I regret saying,
For my heart speaks to thee.

Lost mail

Words that we write,
Like a message in the sea,
Within the bottle of hopes.
Let alone in a wide world,
But not for any to find.
A geas on it to seek,
The one the message calls.
For therein is my soul,
And I have lost it in words.
A bottle may crash on rocks,
Or be lost in the vastness is sea.
Words that should wash away,
A world that none would see.
But a wish with every word,
That a message reaches its shores.
A message better undelivered,
If it reaches not its soul.

The last sight

One last blue line,
And I will close my eyes.
If I open them again,
Hope I am blind.
Never been this drunk before
Sloshed without the wine.
Closed eyes in loop again,
My mistakes are all mine.
And I can stumble all I want,
My past and future aside.
What it felt one night,
By that window with covered blinds.
So high in the sky, so high,
In rain, nowhere to hide.
Easy to hide tears in rain,
And feel not another smile.
Another day might be this,
In a lonely hearts doubts hide.
Companies of strangers,
And love on the blindside.
To couch feelings in words,
And forget the princess bride.
Lies to a heart pierce,
More of me in days to die.
Quiet I stand by the window,
Now I have pulled my blinds.

Rocks

For all the wide world thinks,
There is that beautiful stream by the rock.
They play around.
None asks the rock.
None have seen it bleed but for one.
Life recognized is life given.
A rock cannot talk to anyone else.
For everybody sees it as the prop.
The rock, it remains a prop.
But every now and then it smiles.
Every now and then.
He is afraid of never smiling again.
And a rock lies a lot.
In its nature not to show life.
He still sees his limits.
He cannot move.
She don't arrive.
He has but his company.
A lot many squat by it.
But she thinks a rock would find another.
For if she can someone else can do.
Rock is quiet.
He counts his smiles.
For he knows, off that count,
Rest of his will be but a rock.

On looking up

When I look up,
I call not for heavens.
Nor do I love the blue.
The stars distract,
So does the morning hue.
The twilight haunts,
For I know not the clouds.
So big a sky,
A heart to find solace.
Too big a sky,
For a heart to sleep.
All that I yearn
Is for a lap to dream,
Close my eyes,
For the eternal dream.

The old djinn

At the bottom of a sea,
There was a djinn,
All mottled and gray,
Wishes he could grant not,
But a lap did hold sway.
Treasure did many find,
But wishes were never there.
Every keeper threw a lamp away,
The djinn could no more bear.
Said he to the god of djinn's,
Release me from this life dear.
For as the gods would say,
The voices were never near.
And so a djinn lived,
And till this day stories I hear.
Tales of wistful patrons,
Stories of abandon and leer.
The other djinns mock him still,
The djinn still holds dear.
A memory where he traded,
For his wish, a day of the seer.
That day he wants back,
But he has lost his gear.
Magic quickens him not,
For that was the trade made.
He waits forever in the lamp,
For every wish he held dear.

shadows

A silence pervades
Haven't reached you in ages.
For a part that is of me,
Silence within scares me.
Every nuance plays with me,
A game I can never win.
A voice tells me to reason,
Things that seem,
Will not always be.
But a child that was alone,
To grave does he a shiver carry.
For every passing moment reminds.
The sun does not love.
For if the moon were absent,
He is but a shadow.