Faraar rehne laga hoon main
Tere husn-e-adalat se,

Tere aabshaar’si aankhon ne jo mujhe
Umra’qaid ki saza sunaayi hain.

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Aaj bohot pyaar aa raha hain usse mujh par,
Kya pata ab usse kaunsi zaroorat aan padi hain

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Usse napasand hain mera rishta tanhaai’o se,

Ab Usse kya bataun aye gaalib,

Teri maujudgi mein, tanhaai bhi hoti hain,
Tu jo na ho, bas tanhaai hi hoti hain.

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A bygone rhymester and a dwindling lover.

When I reach for the shards of my heart,
The fractured pieces, moves apart,
I try so hard, to mend the shattered whole,
To soothe the wounds within my soul.

But as my fingers draw closer,
In the memories of it's tragic abuser,
The words of solace in the ancient runes,
crushes my soul under the barren dunes.

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Saw her drenched,
Yet, her eyes
made me drowned.

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There is coarse profanity the way I love.
I am,

The greatest unrequited lover yet
A loner, vindictive partner,

A fanciful dreamer yet
A pragmatic realist.

A relentless chaser yet
An irresolute paramour.


let me go, let me die.
a whispered plea, a solemn cry.

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Be thankful if you can still feel the butterflies,
albeit occasionally in your stomach.

Some of us are carrying
the graveyards of broken dreams
inside us for an eternity.

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If ever I could have one of my wishes granted,
I would've asked the genie to restore her first love.

The only instance ever
when I felt relieved for not topping the charts.

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Every time I try to write,
I circle my way back to you
to pick up my scattered pieces.

only to find you still
relishing the ruins.

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"Why didn’t you ever love me
the way you have always yearned for your muses?"

"Oh beloved,
My love is always eccentric, impulsive,
uncharted, yet eminently acquisitive in nature.
It would've crumbled you in order to reinform
your flaws to attain immaculate craftsmanship,
whereas, darling, you deserved to be revered
and admired by the art connoisseurs
for generations to come."

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