The stories of within.
-
Author of : THE SPELL IN THE DUSK
Lemon & Spices all over,
Mandalas at the doors.
All lights on, early good night
Chants echoing,
Herbal fragrances.
More scary versions,
Of bed time stories.-
My temper was high,
As someone stole my business,
Bloodshot eyes, with imposing nerves,
I stood and took a demonstride.
As informed, I shot a women.
As time passed, I realised my past,
Wrong was the tip, wrong was person,
I did fulfill my revenge, but guilt homed in corner.
A night, Two winters later, I heard a knock on my door,
An unforeseen sight, with a windy arrival,
Her spirit entered for reprisal,
Now we both share the spirit world.-
That immortal me
Would have nurtured many emotions than me
The past would always be memorable
The future would remain a thrilling challenge
The world would no more be beautiful
True loneliness would be my partner
The fading cultures and land could clench my heart
The turning world would define chaos
In that noisy land, if I still survive
Shall I restore a place to myself
A secret land of tressure
With culture and peace
A hidden section on this planet
Available to only to separate beings
Now that would a blessing
For that immortal me.-
As hot headed As I am
Scattering thoughts come back
Infused with ideas
Far beyond my reach
A business women to a queen of an empire
Huff! My dream land
Where I wanna be everything
As a skillful pride
These jamm packed my brain storage
Now I need to vent it off
Or shall they rot in me
Will they turn ambitious?-
May I trance into,
The realm of devils,
And confront the gods
As we spread our empire.
If the gods leave,
The rules will be rewritten
Killing won't be a crime
And my sins would be praised.-
The breeze which flaunts my hairs,
Those tickling grass beneath my foot
That poking of sun
And peeks of moon.
How they pester my urges
Making me fall for them
Do I deserve them?
Or, do they deserve me?-