There is no thing that completes me like nothing does, or maybe it's the “ness” of the nothing that makes me feel both empty and complete.

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The Self-loathing narcissist who called himself a poet.

What a shame you made me so blank.
You even stole my grief that made me stand.
Making everything about yourself, like a self-loathing narcissist going to his city back.
Turning all the pages red, not from rage, not from passion, but from the blood of people whom he stabbed for the sake to write a poem, which was never even relevant
He who crucified people's hearts and called himself a religious art
To be in the center of glory, he carries a false diary. Calling it poetry but writing stories He stole from the crucified heart of people whom he said he was sorry to but never really felt so.

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Kindness is vibrance to appearance.

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Sadness is a gate to solitude, but the pain that causes sadness decides if it will be the journey of a raven with loneliness or the journey to walk alone like a saint.

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If a despicable-born person ever changes, the world will swallow them alive because that person was meant to be despicable to stay safe & survive.

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Bold women are not torn by the world but by the ones who call themselves their supporters.

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समस्याएं तो शायद कभी जीवन में इतनी थीं ही नहीं, ये तो बस चित और दिल की तकरार है जो अति-चिंतन करने पर मजबूर कर देती है।

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एक मूर्ख ही है जो इश्क़ कर सकता है,
वरना आस्था पर सवाल उठाने वाला इश्क़ नहीं, सिर्फ़ सवाल और परवाह कर सकता है।

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I dreamed about touching the sky while…
I realized I never even looked at the sky courageously.
I knew the sky was blue, but I never learned that I can see it in the palette of pink hues.
I reflected my blues on my imagination of the sky, where I lost every bit of rainbow for wanting to touch it ferociously without learning to fly.

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My heart was filled with so much dirt
that one day it started to grow flowers;
That mud heart is a lotus field now.

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