When the cup is empty A myriad spectrum of feelings Gets poured into it, You taste them all And feel all of each, The boldness of it, The subtleties, Its sweetness, And bitter tinge too, All infused in a cup; Not that it felt unfamiliar, They were the same old…

Stygian darkness braved alone, Sombre silence of graves and tombs, Surrounded by silhouettes of my own, Morose solitude which felt like home; Thread the pathways of desolation, Uncharted voyage where spirits roam, Entombed in my shell of lone seclusion, Undiscovered skeletons with my bones; Penumbral shadows cast by moonlight, Unmasked facades…

To love me for my crack and flaws, And my brittle heart made of clay, For I had given you my all, Losing myself along the way; Hang on to me despite the snow, Despite the monsoon November rain, Promise me that you won’t let go, Tell me not if I went insane…

Feelings are like the gust of wind, It comes and goes as it wishes, Leaving its trail under our skin, Having touched all of our bruises; A presence that makes itself known, Demands from us to be heard and felt, Feelings of which we had disowned, Buried within our hearts unquelled…

Ride on carousels that rotate around, Go about in circles but reach no point, Trapped in a circus ringed by clowns, Enslaved our lives for mere gold coins; Bartered our time for drips of honey, Absorbed in burdens of futile duties, Served buffoons who worshipped money, Morbid parasites and the likes of fleas…

We spent decades searching high and low, Searched in outside places which we know, Sought in hidden places which may hide, Sought out everywhere but inside; To find within an uncared child, A sad little child who forgot to smile, Who wants to go out to run and play, Hoped the giants would…

I gazed above into the heavens, As I wondered where you are, Astounded by its stellar essence, Beyond just the moon and its stars; While gazing into infinity, Enchants me till I dumbfound, Tallying each star that I could see, Innumerable till I lost count; Sieved through the unknown aethers, Having…

Who would think lighting up a candle, Would mean as a beacon for others? Realized not what else it could kindle, Of the hearts which its light could capture; Would you think a spark could light a flame? And that flame would grow to be a fire, And the fire becomes a…

Journeyed the stratosphere as I fly, Orbited the earth for days and nights, My fervent zeal to rule the sky, Ascended higher with lofty pride; Falling on deaf ears despite advice, Bestowed with wax wings delicately tied, For ignorance augured my demise, Frail wings of wax scorched by sunlight; Free-falling…