Petite 

Here I am

Sitting in my bed

Writing the problems

That I’ve felt

Which seem so petite

When compared

With the world outside

Now I reassess

Everything that I’ve done

Everything that I write

But don’t let me fly

Away

For I know I’ll die

My wings are torn

As I clipped them off

Thinking

I’ll act like them

I’ll smile like them

Maybe they won’t notice

The chaos

I hide inside

While keeping the darkness

At bay

As my one true friend

That lies beside me

In my bed…

For Someone 

I have tried creating 

A worded picture

Of a face unknown

Only eyes I was shown

And so I seem lost

Everytime life takes a turn

From the dreams

Of another requiem

The signs are all

That I can see

It’s all bright

Like a big spark

But when I see somewhere

Other than you

The light goes away

And its all dark…

Painting 

Every time I pick up

A pencil or a brush,

My hands tremble

Fearing,

Will I be able to complete

At least this one

Or will it be added

With all other unfinished.

I can feel the tears

Dwelling up;

Time, if only 

It could be controlled

And I would rejoice

The moments lost…

Family 

Grab a finger

And walk me through

To the land divine

Where I can resign

The masks I wear

Are causing a tear

To every suture

I ever created

From the wounds inflicted

Sometimes I wonder

Who even used

To rock that cradle

Was it you or

Was it me

Then why have I become

So distant, so soon

What caused this rift

From humanly emotions

Isn’t known at time

But all that remains

Is the man in the mirror

Looking so proud

Standing on the mound

Help me break

These walls of pain

That I created

All for myself

So I can rest

Alongside you

In the reality

That you find true

Don’t let me relapse

To the path unchosen

For then the collision

Will be unbearable…

Life Chapter – 2

I created this world

Complete with treasures

And holes

To make it seem real

To make it surreal

But still somehow

It lacked the conviction

To hold me on

As a prey for bargain

I created this world

As a way to be free

Of all the shackles

I had created for myself

Secluded and isolated

By the peace it carried

But still I ended

Up being a prisoner

Of this

Pioneer

I created this world

Similar to other

Taking positivity

As the only source

I catered this world

With all the feelings I had

Poured them together

To create something better

But the only thing remained

Was an abomination

I still visit

That place in my head

Where everything was true

But felt unreal

Now its deserted

Of everyone there

Like a plague has hit

And burned this shire

Is this what happens

When the mirage clears

You’re stranded alone

In an island of sorts

Completely void

Of who you were

Or pretended to be

For the greater good

Was it true

That it was me

Who was the creator

Of this beautiful illusion

Then why does it feel

That it is me

Who ended up

Being a creation

Life Chapter – 1 

Procreated

From inner passion

Those first steps

Still seemed the hardest

Slowly and slowly

Blossomed

From nothing

The eyes kept searching

For a helping hand

Lingered around

At every corner

Looking for

That missing light

The days went on

The time went on

The routine of life

Kept holding him back

Isolated

From the world outside

Looked for ways

To lessen that pain

First it started

As a way to relax

Then it became

A way to obsess

Blamed others

For indiscretions

Lost the key

To the world outside

Sulking around

In that little space

Still looked for the light

After laying in darkness

The days went on

The time went on

Filled that place up

With every known toxicant

The body was weak

The mind was weak

The heart was lost

In this tempered draught

Could feel the pain

Mounting up

Could feel the walls

Closing in

Near the end

Still looked for the light

That everyone spoke

So loud about

And then he finally

Closed his eyes

Only to find

They were shut all along…

Memoirs Chapter – 15

This isn’t the real talent

This is just exaggerated lament

But that’s what it does

Making you dependent

Think you can hold it

For much longer

I think that it’s fading away

But it’s already shading away

What about the calmness

That I brought you

Was it all for nothing

Did I ever rob you

Then why do you wish

To discard your whims

I might be the solution

To your ever increasing problems

You’ve got to run, gotta fight

You can do it, if you try

But you are always out of breath

When you’re rushing for a length

You say creativity

Is just another anomaly

Now you can see the mirage clearing

And still everything is so shining

I guess sometimes

You need a little push

To help you decide

There is no rush

There are people

Who care about you

Worry about you

Show them what you’re made of

You can feel yourself burning

And this anger growing

So you punch a mirror

To let one remain

But it’s still there

So you punch another

And then another

I don’t feel

Your need anymore

Now that I know

Exactly how you breed

But how will you justify

Who is the one that writes

Till the time

It is I who writes

You are a perception

My very own creation

So who do you think

Is the one who writes

You took me for a stooge

And I will never lose

To a tool for depressant

Which is just too pleasant

I trusted you with my thoughts

Then you began to sought

Your very existence

With no resistance

Maybe that’s what addiction is

Rising when, the persistence dims

And by that thought

The mirrors start to break

Cracks began to disappear

And it is I, who finally appears…