Never before have I felt
Such an urge to let words flow
For someone particular
Who I may or may not know.

Thus it is a strange feeling,
Surely one on the good side,
When my pen now writes for you
Making no attempt to hide.

Overtly this may not sound
As romantic as I’d mean,
But you know me well enough
To read what lies in between.

Maybe this one ends here now
But is eager to begin,
For I’m finally ready
To write for you from within.

-

I wondered how it feels to die
Exploding part by part,
Hence now I’m in a suicide squad
With a bomb tied to my heart.

The tick-tock serves to remind
How I’m here on borrowed time,
Yet the spirit partakes in
Only what seems sublime.

For after the heart shatters
I’d still want the shards to stay
To shine forth with what was and
In another world what may.

Oh for sure it will be messy,
But the gore is all inside.
None would get a peek into
What cracks under the tough hide.

It is our secret,
‘Tween the half-burnt wick and me,
That as the time ticks louder,
So much farther I can see.

Though the end appears misty,
Smells of muscles, blood and soul,
It is up above this sphere
That I’ll float on as a whole.

Unbeknownst to every being,
Carrying best bits of the past,
I would linger as a jigsaw
Now immune to any blast.

-

The blankets slowly turn crimson,
Pillows drenched to the core,
As I invoke sleep to heal me
For another night once more.
That is the fate which always greets
My love that never wanes,
For every time embracing thorns,
All I'm left with is bloodstains.

It's not that I choose not to learn
But the fact I dream a hope
Where I can love with all my heart
Not keep walking a tightrope.
I wish to bestow all I have
Wanting not much in return,
To care for my loved and cherish
Whatever love I earn.

That is why I crawl quiet back
To my bed every dawn,
Leaving my light into the night,
My soul having been long gone;
For as it goes, it whispers
How it has no more to give,
And of how I never deserve
To be loved enough to live.

-

A lonesome chilly eve
And a few sprinkles of the dark,
Often trigger off strange self-doubts
If I can ever leave a mark.

Every dewy dawn flags off
The eternal race to be the best
And all fruitless thoughts basketed
Are put quietly to rest.

Days go by in chores
And nights toss and turn to sleep,
Life seems too full of itself
Yet not comfortingly deep.

I could sit and ponder why
Or I could zip it all and work,
Dismissing my own random musings
As just another bout of quirk.

But now I choose to do neither,
I simply gaze at the setting sun;
For just as this day draws to a close,
I can’t help but feel I am done.

-

If you happened to catch a glimpse
Of me in days of yore,
“A hopeless romantic”, you’d brand me,
One without a cure;
For I was known to leap into
The flames without a care,
Blind in pursuit, intense in passion,
Like none would even dare.
Then life dealt a sudden blow
To my impulsive streak,
My erstwhile blazing self was recast
In a mould tad bleak.

Soon you streamed in river-calm,
Wiping my ashes clean
I flowed along and then soon merged
Carrying all I nursed within.
For once I felt joy in soothing
Instead of burning down
Channelling my love so you may
Just swim and never drown;
But time wrought ravages subtle,
Ripples roughened on the go,
Stirring me up in eddies, you chose
Another path to flow.

I live now as a fire dimmed, 
A tsunami lying low,
Discovering my earthy side
That I plan to embrace slow.
Exploring each element
Has now brought me to this shore,
I'm ready to nurture and cherish
What I need to evermore;
All that changed is, in return
I desire the Sun in You
To be sustained and cared for,
Forever fierce anew.

-

I know not why I never saw
You in my dearest dreams,
Maybe you are too far-fetched
Or that is what it seems.

I'd like to think memories count
More than what I may feel,
For visions however pleasant
Aren't quite the real deal.

Hence I don't whine over why
My nights miss out on you,
I'd rather guard these days of us
And keep living them anew.

-

I sit gazing at the droplets
Trickling down my window pane,
Till the mind is slowly fogged
By this melancholic rain.
All work sucked in by whirlpools
Of the random thoughts I think,
Let my words ooze out awhile
Emptying heart and soul and ink.

-