Which you and I fail to understand,
Someone has expressed,
A story unheard,
Pain untold
Joy unseen.
——————
Flowing water is probably,
The most powerful thing
Unafraid of its being,
Flowing, erratically, mildly,
Or just being as is.
Unaware of what may
Or may not unfold,
Flowing water,
Just flows.
——————
But how do I tell you,
That on some nights I crave
For verses, which make
The breaths bearable.
——————
I make love with the darkness,
In the arms of hollowness,
As loneliness engulfs me...
Yet, they say there is no one
When you’re sleepless, broken.
——————-
On one not so fine night, when Satan had a few extra pegs of history Single Malt with his loyalists, the sinners, of course, one wondered how beautiful it is to have known that your sins have been so glorious that even after intoxication you don’t fear blurting out something. That probably is what unadulterated acceptance would feel like, hopefully.
—————
At home,
You may be alone,
But,
Will never be lonely.
———————
Storms aren’t like hangovers
Which pass after a mere headache,
They stay,
Somewhere in the centre of your chest,
Not letting you sleep,
Killing your peace & being.
Storms.
——————
But those who have held
The hurricanes & cyclones
In their chest
Aren’t affected by the dance
Of the winds and rain.
———————-
Do not ask me for my truth,
Your breed is the one afraid of cyclones
My tribe is used to carrying hurricanes in their chest.
We lie so that your lust for truth doesn’t die
We the undesirable ones,
Keep you desirable,
Thank us, you!
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