Run and keep running.
It's ok to chase that wilted desire,
Till it exhausts you
And you choose to cease it all.
Not because the run wasn't good,
But the beach could not be run on;
The sand was too dirty,
The sole was too pious.
Perhaps there could be a better match
Perhaps there was a better catch.
But someone failed,
Someone lost it.
The sand has its own story
The sole had a purpose of living,
And at the end of the day
They just could not fit in together.
That's why it's ok if it exhausts you.

-

She was the flower of his garden;
A little growing bud.
He scratched her,
Peeled her,
Yet flaunted her
Because he could never really feel her.

She grew up into a flower,
But her wounds were still peeling.
Those scars were still screaming
A thousand bottled-up words.

She could never be repaired,
There were no dead wounds spared.

-

Failure is not fatal,
But the frozen desire to persist is.

-

They played a wicked game.
Seesaw they called it.
Sense was lighter and reached the highest point,
And strength had a mind of its own:
It got up and walked out,
Because sense was an insult
To every common man,
By being too uncommon.

-

That my anklets had pearls
And several hidden gems,
Whose sways I had never traced,
As my sole wore out in chase of you.

-

That stones do not matter
As long as they are off my platter

-

Many pearls were gathered,
Yet some slipped,
But it's the slipped ones that pricked.
They were only a few
But worth a lot more,
Like ten thousand pearls on a sea shore.
And I felt like I'm standing on the shore once again,
Trying to hold those pearls that have already slipped,
Trying to contain that which the waves have swept,
Trying to bind time in eyes that wept.

-

And when the fire that rendered them futile,
Made them burn before my naked eye,
I could not revert but add more fuel,
So that it could burn.
And in burning reduce my hurt to deep black ashes.
Somehow its colour contained what my tears couldn't withhold.
Somewhere it released a peace
That only absence can hold.
And I wept for a last time,
Because joy had shone,
In the nudity portrayed by the invisibility of you.

-

I spoke,
He stroked
A tuft of my hair,
And I broke
Into tears of ecstasy,
Love had once again caressed me.
Someone had pursued me.

-

Youth is transient, much the same as beauty,
What remains after these fade away is what a man is worth.

-