The spasms of light split through me
Like the rays of sun on a cloudy day
It cut through me like burning steel on fire
Blood oozing through every inch
Draining the life out of my soul......
Yet only then I could breath again
Like a phoenix rebirthing from its own ashes
Bloody yet lively
Only to be burnt again
In the spasms of my anxiety
.......
My anxiety

-

Windows

Through the half light half dark corridors
Half alive half dead souls.
Washing over the dust ridden floors
The look in his eyes while he stares in the corridors
The doors to his beloved wife's room
17 years and every memory as he carries her to their paradise
"Where are you?" His eyes might scream
But his face is quiet and pale
The loom pondering over his face
Every smile
Every laugh
Every sight
"Where did you they go?"

His sight might look dead to you
But the destiny exclaims...
The dead night is to him
His beloved to this world

-

In a society where mediocrity is too often the standard and too often rewarded. There is an intense fascination with men who detest mediocrity, who refuse to define themselves in conventional terms, and who seek to transcend traditionally recognized human capabilities.

-

As I lay in my bed of roses,
Death slowly calls my name
Kissing my hands,
Bidding me 'goodbye'
As I whisper his name......

-

Oh anxiety
Oh fright or flight mode
When will you stop loving me?

-

Dear you,
It's ok to break down
For the brightest star shines only after a fight

-

Though alone, I cannot be
Yet solitude calls for my soul

-

Fame, oh my serene sire

Like the inhale of fresh air for the dying man
A drip from the thirsty man's bottle
A child's longing for the mother's hands

The mind longs once it gets the taste
For fame begotten greed renders a man insane

As revenge for the forgotten
The enslaved

-

"Come back to reality", they said. "What's reality?" I thought. Maybe humans were never meant for reality. Maybe the only difference between AI and human is a heart that never hesitates to stab and emotions that drive insane

-

When the world applauds the victory of the cold hearted tyrants
I still find you
When the once kind moon ignites with the jealousy of his stars
I still find you
When the miles conspires to hold me back
Luring me to the sweet scented lust of cadaverous rest
Knowing, pitilessly you would castigate me by rejecting me
Every time

-