A City of heartbreaks

My being is hanging out with the thought of being myself at almost all the times and the urge to be anything but me.Thought is an act of violence. The urge to be somethingbut me, is the violence against what I am. The urge  to be nowhere but near you. Is it possible for a

Things that matter.

A poem, you ask? I sit here and think, wondering whatwe are, when doors are shutTight and hard. Alright, I will come with you for the trippy fight;also, came with my freshly chewed skin,All the prose and adjectives are hereWe’ll keep them the way they have always been. Let me give you a guilt trip

Gods are dying in my country.

Centuries ago, during thecourse of evolution, humansbrought the whole speciestogether, on the base ofOne belief system; Religion.We thrived. They say nothing lastsforever; humans have this obsessionwith change,To know more, To be more. And now ( fast forward to ‘I’ )As ‘act of God’I see my country mouldingbeliefs of generations.God has now become a toolTo control

Apocalypse

Silence knocks on my window everytime it snows; I have an ache every time I hear your name. This time, spring came with the bittersweet memories, my kitchen smells like your favourite street food and the aroma runs through my veins, urging me to run away . We are oceans apart yet its heavy on

Ephialtes

I often find myself with the ghosts after the whole world goes to sleep, The world say those creatures are horrifying but to my wonder I saw them weep. It always seems like their darkness is my comfort even though they suck out my light, My world sometimes seems dull and shallow do they have

Reminder

I carry you every where just not in my heart, And keep losing my mind at the thought of a new start. Sleepless nights and exhausted will, My soul is lost at the top of a hill. You’re the most prominent scar on my chest, Keep getting worse if I stop to rest. I keep

Fears

Walking through the empty streets, Behind all the crumbling sheets, Listening to my beasts, Crying, on repeat. I know every flower of ceiling, Stumbling under the weight of feelings, Tired of kneeling, Waiting for arrival of healing. My fan is moving, My vision is disproving, All the voices are fooling, Only pain here, is blooming.

Hailstorm

Wolves are hollowing at the peak, Birds going total freak. Is this reality or a dream? I can sense some subtle screams. Intense, destructive and cold breeze, Is this city on the verge to freeze? I may sound off, i may sound mad, But this clime is, really bad. In a blink of eye, Earth