You really don't have to run
marathons,
Cross the broken bridges,
Run over the obstacles,
Submit yourself
To gigantic sacrifices,
In order to love
Someone.

When relationship becomes a war
It is time to think deep
What you are fighting for.

-

I'll love you for thousand springs
With despise winter
and summer we'll live.
I'll be the brief, the medium
Of the moment
We collide in the space
Under the damned roof
Making our own bed
Of hell in life,
All together in another dimension
And I want to write
All the discrete touches,
The humming kisses,
The smothering ties of our finger skin,
The doses of dreams,
Igniting needs.

Just like the ancient anecdote

I'll be the last leaf
Of our beliefs.

-

Moving on

In between
The steps and its spaces
I garnered
Snow flowers
Grooming with the
Wind;
Combusting
Into havoc;
Trespassing city lights
Like our Paris Lost,
So that our distance
Be tamed
In searching silence
'cause
These steps was nothing
But the walking movie
With deaf audience.

-ru

-

I'm not entirely negative when I say that people should be warned before they set out to be owning themselves to the concepts;
they still haven't seen its merrier.
Only few opinions matter and none opinion has the interim to change on how you feel about something or someone or what it is you want to be.

There is some glory in what I am saying
Even if it lie down me in the path of vertigo.
Neither does the fear
and the insecurity and the fighting to be seen
and to be as good as only you can be.

-

What if i say
that i can't tolerate
my own heart?

What lies in her
Is the truth
I've been running from
All my stilled time!

She weeps
For faith,
A restoration
To keep her swimming
In lulled water.

What if I say
That i didn't put my
Heart on the sleeves
But she being so vulnerable
So insecure
That I don't have a choice but be
Attuned with her
Beating.

-

To be unknown to the people
Who know you the best
Is to be ghost amidst the living.
The brevity of lonesome
Is not the notion to speculate
But the hurricane, so daring, so intense
On the face of God's creation
To question his discretion.
Having the furious inertia beneath chest,
With dampened gazes;
Losing the senses in translation
Gulping the mockery,
Is the 'perhaps' of the living
To be seen;
And for this blind world
My ghost is enough.

-

Love so red , so old,
Resented, plagued, estranged
Can it be trusted anymore?

-

I'm getting impeccable
With every life, I died;
Against the wrath,
I duly timed.

(Read the caption)

-

I am the perception of making
Created with an awareness
Yet to prevail.
Primordial artifact of
Moody walls and
Stitched mouth
A loose thread hanging from the corner of smiles.

I am yet to begin.

-

I fall
In the simple existence as air.
(Poem in caption)

-