Skip to main content

Midnights of a bruised poet...

There are some nights when i feel really helpless. Like i can't drag this burden of living any further. Hopes, surviving like bamboo sticks on a river, start dwindling . When i close my eyes, i see all blurry. Something in me asks me to leave this battleground and move to safer embraces of peace. But something else persuades me to wake up the next morning, and fight the evils back. Teach them that no matter what may come, I am a woman who was born to win.

But all mornings aren't same. Some mornings i wake up with a tear in my eyes knowing for sure I'd been dreaming of you. That breaks me. That ruins me to know the ironical truth that i have all that i wanted, in my dreams. But you know, that keeps me going too. The craving to see your tired eyes and hold them in mine, like a picture in a camera is what rows me to shores away from this whirlpool called life..


Popular posts from this blog

Death Comes Closer

When the passion in my veins
becomes the poison in my blood
and death comes closer by a step
I will not shrivel in sudden fear
or dissolve into a mist of a pitiable plight
For even when I die
My words will illuminate lives with it's
perennial light.

A Nobody

The way your eyes smirk at my existence
and heavy breaths sublime under hallucinating lights
The rifts of your wet lips, abhorrent and unawaiting
On mine sometimes, sometimes gone
A lover's sigh, and poet's respite,


The splash of aquamarine to my gloomy canvases.


I was a virgin canvas
your lips couldn't stain

I had waterfalls inside my chest
your eyes couldn't contain

I ached in places
your hands couldn't touch

I spoke of autumns
words couldn't adorn much

So what you loved that beauty spot
on the edge of my waist,
Alongside thrived a freckle
you had already abandoned in haste.