Did you feel the breeze when it was five in the morning?

Sitting alongside the window,

Before the exhausting rush of the day,

After the silence of the hours of darkness,

The smiling line of the orange beam,

Peeking through the horizon distantly,

The sensations it evokes,

Before the commencement of the day,

Can you describe the heavenly trail?

Did you feel the breeze when it was five in the morning?

After prolonged nights of rigorous strain,

Attempting to find a pinch of rest,

Blowing gently in its way,

The serenity it offers,

After the painfull and exhausting obscurity ,

Can you affirm you sensed serenity?

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Speaking of the Meloncoly of Antonio
Never realised he was lost
Years went by growing up
Words wanted to burst.....
Laughing and smiling is hard
Breathing has become difficult
Is there an escape from this?
Wondered how different this would have been
Ask me why I m here
Ask me how am I
Ask me is it ok
You won't as I mean nothing
Just like the bee that lost its sting
Life is turning towards it's final thing
Losing all the smell and spice
It turning all black and white

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This is my tribute to Priyanka Reddy, Nirbhaya and all other India's daughters

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The world hasn't been so dark before,
It felt like everything has change its course,
The overwelming laughter of them,
Made her hide her pain,
They never saw the surface within,
And she was crying and broken in,
It was all her smile that was visible,
Her erge to take it out was so irresistible,
Was it her fault?
Or it was her innocence! she exclaimed,
No it was her selfish deeds,
That brought her to the misery indeed...

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To see what new challenges the new day brings.

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Jo bitaye doston ke saath, baad mein kab phir mauka milega jeele isspal ko phir se mere yaar. Manalo yaari jab tak ho saath, phir milne ke liye bhi taras jaoge tum mere yaar.

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The flavours of food made by a mother, the care and love spent on each meal.

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Pain the engulfs me,
The wounds that stays open,
The scars that remain untreated,
The blood that turned soar,
The emptiness of my broken soul,
Is the pattern of being alone,
Loneliness and isolation,
Is my home and foundation...

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Who am I?
What am I?
Where do I belong?
What is my identity?
The questions that grows in my mind,
The answers I wish I knew,
The hurdles for knowing myself,
The question still remains who am I?
It is hard to discover,
It's hard to realise,
It is a difficult question,
Who exactly am I?
Born with an individual identity,
Growing with that certain one,
Building something new on me,
To make myself an exceptional one.
Doing something remarkable,
Is always on my hands,
And make a new place with my identity,
Where I can stand.

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