What is it with you nature? 

What is it with you nature?
How do you captivate me so much?

Despite of all the love I have for the humans who love me,
I end up loving you the most.

You are the beauty, and well,
here I am, your beast.
Yes, You are my beautiful and
I am your damned.

You don’t sing but the whistle
in those winds and the rustle
in these rains
make me want to dance.
You don’t speak
but I hear your words
asking me to join you
in your shrine.
You are calling me out,
asking for help,
but I stay here, ignoring your plea,
with these gadgets in my hand.
You offer me so much in love
yet the only thing I do
is only wish,
wish to be at your disposal
the second you shower me
with your charm.
It seems like we are star-crossed lovers
trying find our path to one another.

Fascinating but true,
this story of ours is like those of unrequited love,
for our eyes glisten with a tint of pink
and our hearts pound,
but it does not reach the other.

Isolation

I had a dream one morning
that left me dumbstruck
Oh it took me to face my greatest fear

no, it was not fire, water or height
it was something in my mind
been there for more than a year

it had cost me my endeavour to
be close to the people in my life
I realise,

what scares me the most is the fact
that there could be a day
just that one day

when someone decides to stand up and leave
there would be no effort in the world
to make them stay

yes, forever is a lie
and someone who promises me one
can one day be the devil in my way

oh they’ll become the sand in my hour glass
at my constant watch
which no matter what will slip away

so why let anyone enter
my beautifully damned life
why expect anyone to be there

why can’t I think
that these people will just be
random souls temporarily here

why shouldn’t I live in isolation?

Walk Through It.

Walking in the bright sunlight
on a scorching day
sweating, feeling dehydrated
you’re just there, existing
without a purpose or a breath.

the nature doesn’t love you
like the music says it will
you no longer feel beautiful
the pores in your skin
start to explore the hot
not so happy summer wind.
you’re just there, existing
without water or a will to go on.

you don’t feel the air
you don’t feel the beauty of it
as they talk about
in the books or the movies
you’re just there, existing
in an unheroic manner
in your own movie.

while you give up your hope
of one day becoming
as shiny as those
conventionalists out there
a rush of breeze swipes
your dead dry hair
off your gloomy face
and you think

that it’s okay not to be okay sometimes,

but darling it’s too simple
to just think you’re the best
that you’re gonna rock this world

you just have to
walk through it, honey
like the sunshine is
moulding you to be
as hard and beautiful
as a diamond.

just walk through it, honey
like you need no one
the sky is meant for you
breath it, live it, aim it.

Cold mornings, fidgety nights.

Spilled coffee, a drunken mind.
Cold mornings, fidgety nights.
It feels like living in a place
without a shrine.
Though it’s called a house
but nowhere’s your home.
Everything’s well they say
yet somehow
you feel the need to go.
Someone’s embrace
might take you to galaxies,
but you ought to walk away.
It never brings any good
you know it,
as no one ever stays.
So you make peace
with your demons
as nasty or obnoxious
they may sound.

you think about yourself,
your spilled dreams
and your insane drunken life.