The aliferous heart careens
through even the most brumous skies.

-

The grimacing guitar strings play a beautiful melody of nostalgia and a smitten smile spreads across my face as I delve back into a world of music, memories and mirages. My fingers start circling in the air, shaping forbidden loops of acceptance. My feet irresistably tap to the sound of a song stuck in my head since you left; the unuttered lyrics echo in my ears.
The voices humming in my mind are enough to keep me company. A teardrop rolls down, leaving a marred stain on my cheek.I reckon the days bygone, when we used to sit by the sea, water lapping about and soaking us, watching the dusky skies turning grey and you singing along to my amateur guitar tunes.
The voices still echo, occupying every corner of my heart.
Our 'forever' ended too soon, but the sickled simitars of our love shall fly in the skies of our memories, till we touch our rainbow at the zenith.

-

Crimson scars glow on dusted faces,
Which in pain, urge to moan
But are shushed,
By palms of misery,
Wrapped around tongueless mouths -
A noose for twisted fates,
Crushing every unuttered voice,
And with it, their only chance
To live and to dream.
Their free wings, brutally severed,
Push them deep into the catacombs
Of darkness and dearth
Hopeless clouds mist
The shining stars, they desired to hold.
Withered fingers, covered in black,
Circle in the forbidden air,
Forming imbecile loops
On the red fabric, sewing another's fantasy
While their maroon hearts and marred souls,
Know their destiny was written in slate.
A gash of sunlight
Never would knock
The lemon doors of their fate

-

Another stirling year
And I'll vehemently resolve,
Some truths to unravel,
Some mysteries to solve.

Wishing all a year of sweet success,
I myself shall say no to sweets,
Only to falter over the tempting jelly,
Consoling my taste workers with treats.

No wreckless spending, I would save next year,
I will resolve to lock in my green bills,
But how would I resist the sulit urge
To display my defaming shopping skills.

I would close down the devil's workshop,
Oh yes, I would take up a hobby!
Thrum the guitar strings or dance around,
But I would grow zestless probably.

I'll promise myself frivolous punctuality,
To stick to the clock, I would fain,
'If only it had been a working timepiece...',
I would advocate my failiure again.

With my mushy face and overwhelmed heart,
I'll resolve to be a better person, better than my best,
I shan't break when eveything is falling apart,
But how would I, I don't even know where to start.

-

The blank page was already soggy with her perpetually pouring teardrops, rolling down her warm cheeks, inking the agony buried deep in her heart, when her pen failed to spill it out.
They spoke of the plastic smile that swelled across her face in the flurry of the fancy world, but one which melted in the furnace of realities in solitude.
They talked of a heartless heap of bones and flesh that had ceased to think or feel anything except pain.
They illustrated the melancholic sea of sorrows, she had most miserably managed not to drown in.
Enunciating betrayed trust and broken vows that spelt her monotonous life, they condoled the silent mutilation of her soul.
As she bent down over her diary again, a blob of ink splashed onto the tear-stained paper, now a souvenir of the unsung battle ravaging her constantly.

-

Every night,
I look at the souvenires
Of our love.
Previously, they painted
These pale walls,
With the colors of our memories.
Now, as I behold them,
I reminisce with a smile
On your tombstone.

-

Admire, adore, enamour and cherish this exquisite star studded night sky. Let go of your inhibitions, that have been keeping you away from satiating your thirst for more. Obliviate your mind of the ungrateful world you dwell in, and your venomous past which still hauls you back from dreaming. Search for the missing pieces of your shattered soul, long lost in the hustle of what is called Life. Hear the somber sound of your heart beating in your bossom, away from the cacophony of this material world. Explore the unvisited columns of your mind. Be the closest to the essence of living.
Meet yourself.

-

Tame your lies,
'Cause the truth
Can never be put
On the leash

-

If clothes could speak,
Their tattered bits,
Resting on the blithed ramparts
Of my plundered flesh,
Would have redeemed
My self-respect,
From the clutches of
His voracious eyes,
Preying on my Innocence.

-

Her breath painted the window pane in dew,
Two dainty curves lingered, the cold glass skew
Nestled in the warmth of his kiss

-