1. The essence of hate pales before the art of love.
2. The art of love paints the beauty of life
3. The beauty of life rains the showers of hope.

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Punctuations to a series of tales
that couldn't become a story.

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"what's love?"
Have you seen a toddler running around crooked laughing?

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Horrors Of Night

The night feels nostalgic,
My soul feels weak,
Moon isn't elegant today,
It's light, creepy and bleak.

My heart still aches,
My muscles still scream,
My room smells of gloom,
Memories burned into a dream.

The heart that was caged long ago
Has become the silhouette of rebel today,
"What lies have you been Living?"
Tearing the walls of illusion away.

Silence is more creepy than usual,
Void is haunting, I'm in vain,
"None." I whisper to my heart.
As my chest screams and trembles in pain.

And the clock ticks by,
Hushed whispers echoes in my head.
Silence starts to feel chilly
As the void fills up with voices I dread.

The darkness, once familiar, feels overwhelming today.
unfurling the intoxicating petals of lies.
Exposing the imperfections and chasm,
Stripping down my elegant disguise.

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Bad Dream

I stand lifeless, motionless. My senses are numb,
i cant feel the breeze that envelops me,
or the platform i stand on,
and i cant feel myself quiver, the chills, and the shivering
or my eyelids and its flickering.
Agony and vain, and this paralyzing pain.
its all i feel, its all i am left.
Enveloped by the pampers of chilled breeze,
And the smell of gloomy rain.
These dull periodic ticks,
Like the sound of the clock.
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
But wait.
I can feel the platform vibrate.
A train it is.
Racing towards me. Cutting through the breeze.
Screeching of iron rail. Louder and louder.
And louder it gets.
I think its running faster and faster,
determined to tear me apart.
I have already worn out. My soul tattered, torn out.
Psychopomps roaming about.
I am transfixed. Cold. Frozen.
With enraged heartbeats and asthmatic lungs
My noble soul corrodes
While the warrior in me has been abandoned.
What do i do? How do i wake up?
How do i leave the rail?
Do i even want to?

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Life gives you a lot of reasons
and excuses to mourn about,
But to be stubborn enough and
embrace that pain while it
lasts is what makes a champion.

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Poetry embraces extremity,
Peace isn't poetic.

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A compromise is
an act of surrender
if it isn't mutual.

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A wierd fear holds me back.
The darkness in my room whispers,
In a very dull yet shrill voice it commands,
"There's no light in you.
All of you is me."

I am yet to know if this is a dream.

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Filling up an empty pot,
With scents of wisdom,
And droplets of experience;
Diluting the hate composed venom,
And conquering the art of resilience.

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