Beauty 'lies' in the eyes of the beholder,

for 'Truth' seldom seeks acclamation.

-

Aren't we all slaves of our own guilty choices?
Probably that's what makes us all,
masters of denial!

Denial, not of truth,
nor of hatred, vengeance or love.

It is the denial of that little You within,
for its squeaking silence ain't loud enough
to awaken the spirit of dishonor,
sedated meticulously with infidelity.

Rise it will, one day,
not too late, never too early,
drowning in a puddle of remorse
numb with hope,
gasping for peace.

Yet today,
torn between a dollop of faith
and a pinch of impiety,
is a chunk of my conscience,
frantically in search of sublime chaos,
measured and gentle,
just enough to conceive a poem;

just enough, to not want it finished.

-

In a war of mighty egos,
words have been the second most potent weapon of all time.

Ignorance however, remains the first.

-

Life is but an accessory that you wear
on your journey to Death.

-

They happen to us;
those rare set of people;
subtle, serene, pious and beautiful.

They lack that stupid sense of urgency
that we all flaunt in our lives.

They lack that essential ability to display
those frivolous joys of life with overrated excitement.

They even lack some basic human existential attributes
like the intense need to please an imaginary jury
at the cost of their own conscience.

Ah, they're a rare breed,
living off memories, love and forgiveness,
safe beneath the tremendous armour of acceptance.

Like a broken lock, they take on Life,
for it still opens up with a key,
but it just doesn't matter.

-

He seldom visits me nowadays...

-

We all have a side to us,
that we don't reveal;
not even to our own selves.
Maybe we're just embarrassed of it.
No,
not of its inappropriateness,
but of its simplicity.
Its untame beauty.

So, we take that part of us
and lock it in a vault
and bury it deep;
so deep,
that we remain oblivious
of its very existence;

until one day,
when Life happens,
and the Earth shudders
and the vault cracks;

and through its crevices,
oozes the greatest truths
ever known to man.
Some call it liberation.

Some just call it poetry.
I do.

-

Oh, I've loved dreams,
yes, the ones I see while sleeping;
and I still do love them,
just that,
I dread them as much.

No,
not because they don't last long,
and neither because they've seldom come true;

I dread them,
for I've lost track of what's real,
and why it remains so.

-

There will come a time in everyone's life,
when faith won't just be tested, but uprooted. All of it.

It's for such times that you need to train yourself
to put your faith in the right things, in the right people.

And the only right people that exist,
is You.

Train hard.

-

Oh, the night does let me sleep now,
for sleeplessness was a teenage poet's guilty wine.

I am but an aging sailor,
willingly lost in the Sun-less waters of the Arctic sea
sailing on frozen hearts and broken souls,
drinking away from a leaking barrel of unborn poems.

-