A Moment


Here I tried writing something…so here it goes :-

My eyes wish to behold, again and yet again, the grace with which, thee, my sweet lordship, unfold thy deepest, most wondrous mysteries. My fingers wish to trace your fair skin, under which the blue veins snake their way through your flesh, more fragrant than all of Persephone’s grove, by far worth more than Hades’ treasure trove…

And it’s thy heart, made of the densest gold, harder than the hardest diamond, but it’s just that I wish to win. Thy lips, that speak so much, thy eyes, express. I wish to smoothe out that delicate tensed brow. I wish to sort through your beautiful long lashes and to fill thy sweet mouth with gentle kisses. And there lying around in some far away meadow, shall we have our sweet recess. We will share little sweet promises, sweet little breaths exchanged. How, lying there on the warm, moist grass we would make wagers on our lives.

It’s a sport of young lovers, such as ourselves to let Passion, Love’s hot headed brother override our sane rational minds. Take oblique decisions, the orders, our hearts fail to obey. I know this will someday end, the rat race of passion and morals clashing will end one day. Like thee, ever so gentle, so noble, may someday just walk away, for my goodness’ sake. But it’ll be me here, rooted to the scent of this meadow, and the lingering aftertaste of your kiss on my tongue.

I’ve really attempted to write prose after a really long time. Could use an opinion if anyone could offer any regarding the progress of the piece. Thanks.

The Thin Line


Life is now a stretch of eternal grey,

The lifeless transit tolls heavy on me.

The bones had just recovered

From the last catastrophic fracture…

When the glass was shattered again.

Life has gone into hibernation,

And yet something refuses to die inside me.

The metal window is dented forever,

After too many times the hammer beat on it.

However much I try to say otherwise,

My dreams had always been better than fair life.

That is why some people say, love is like walking a thin line,

Between insanity and gravity. Chaos and harmony.

It will bind you in, if you find your niche,

Or put you out to the mercy of the cruel world, if not.

An Attempt to Forget




Now, it’s all ominous chaos and ruthless scribbles, in your absence–just scraps, here and there.

The night haunts me, the silence presses on questions, I cannot answer…

Rebukes me, my heavy heart that falters, can’t speak of the last assault.

The remembrances, the little touches and your scars, the wish in me to heal the lines…

The stolen kisses, the shameless greed, and mischief, and indeed no one knew…

All of it, everything, rendered meaningless now, just goooooone in vain.


But I’ll find some broken kind of beauty in the blank there as well…

Prey to destiny’s unique, sadistic ambitions and schemes…here, I’m the fool again.

But, I’m not so weak, I will rise from the scraps and scribbles, life is after you,

Then, I also have the ghost of your words, the words, you sometimes, half consciously uttered..

Sometimes feeling burdened and indebted, taking pity on me, you showered.

Those words, violent for me, your name, sublime for me,

Will overwhelm me, and inspire me to live again…