Healed not Mended

Many things remain between the truth and the lies we liveJust like the cut that goes through the heartThe cut that can't be mended. Healed yes... but not mended.As it will remain.The waves of the sea heal, the mist of the mountain heals,A long conversation with a friend heals But nothing can mend. For the... Continue Reading →

Sinner

perhaps, we weren't meant to bebut we were perhaps it was all an illusionbut we breathed together perhaps you cleared the air and nothing is leftbut the residue blurs my eyes yet you walk away now, preaching like a messiahbut you sinned too... Remember?

हमें ना इश्क़ हो गया है

हमें ना इश्क़ हो गया हैअक्सर बातों बातों में बात ही भूल जाते हैंफिर जब याद आती है बात, तो कह नहीं पाते हैंहमें ना इश्क़ हो गया हैसुबह गुलाबी आसमान की सिलवट समेट किताबों के पन्नों में छुपा देते हैंफ़िर दिन भर उन्ही पन्नों में के बीच वो पल ढूंढते रह जाते हैहमें ना... Continue Reading →

The Lonely Cloud

Dusted on my horizonThe lonely cloud peeps into my dawnEmbedded into the sky It hums a lonely song'Mornings are to smile,' I say'Mornings are fun'It smiles into my sleepy eyesAnd says no words... none.'You are the lonely cloud, I have heard your stories.''Oh but I am not lonely you see, I am just one.'-Vibha

Rumi’s Sin

The moon haunts,Reminding werewolf tales Of broken hearts beyond repairGuilty as chargedTrapped in dutiful knotsSelfish souls breathing in scarsLiving Rumi's sinOf finding beyond nowhereA field in their names to share. Many star crossed lovers have believed in Rumi's quote and hoped of being one with eachother beyond the world's boundaries. Many have lost hope, have... Continue Reading →

Tied

trapped in unwritten consuetude of beauty, to impress ogling eyes as if born to be tied in silk nets, intricately designed. “This  fine silk to touch your skin,  so divine” she falls for his words, ignorant in love of his evil mind. her spirit ready to bloom her wings ready to cover the sky bit... Continue Reading →

Masters of the Game

just like cigaretteit all goes up in smokered as emberthe heart burnsetched into the wallsecho screams of my silencefour letter wordschange their coursecelebrations of delighta theatrical geniusunderneath the mulching suffocate what remainsthere are days of unbecomingthere are days of schemingand with all that manipulationyou... I become Masters of the Game

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