Tireless Toiling
There is so much toiling to do tonight,
burying living corpses.
Every night,sharp at 12 o 'clock I dig
A grave ,Wiping my tears away ,with a smile
I bury them alive.
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Unlearn it,even if it costs you mountain of efforts and strength ,just unlearn the emotion that becomes the reason of your degradation.peel it off your soul,like snake sheds it's skin.If it does not count in the eyes of the other person, it's simply worth not your time and efforts.
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They say,cowards should never dare to love,cause they fail it.I say people who are realistic (too much)should never enter this sphere,they ruin it with their mediocrity, with pretense ,the mirror they hold can only see things visible to a human eye and inbetween they forget, there exists a thing called emotions;without them we would be machines.
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Never let your heart become a slave of an oblivious person.Every now and then you would feel like sisyphus, toiling, labouring; coming to nothing.you would bury your parts (self)every night all to find out,one day,your grave yard has grown out of space but you still would have corpses to bury,and your heart would have become the crematorium itself.
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How do you explain to a stoic soul,
What a mad lover is?
It's like calling a dead person from
A grave.
Do u shout poetry at its face or do u
Cut open your heart to show the abyss
You have been hoarding?
What do you do to make the person
Understand?
"Nothing"
Even if this nothing feels like an elephant
On your soul,you choose it against your will,cause all else works otherwise.
You silently ghost yourself.
That counts.
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Your fears
You handed me
At the crossroads ,
Every morning after,
Applying kohl ,
I Adorn them in my hair,
Not like roses(red ones)
But like lilies.
My tresses,envy them.
Penduluming against them,
Every now and then,
Shedding few ;the non
Rigid ones,while others
Swing on the hem of
Agonies .
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Musings
The act of being,and reducing it to
mere sulking can be tiring saki.
Where is ur cup?
The holder of vents?
You know the secrets,of chaotic souls.
Do u know mine as well?
Would u ever know mine?
While i was drunk in beauty,did i speak of my agonies,miseries,
Of black holes for that matter.
Did i?
Speak,tear a veil from my secrets.
Break the achetype of life.
Be a rebel,for me.
Love me the way i want.
I plea.
I beg!(if that does'nt go against my existence)
Saki,i am drowing in me,i m sinking,day in n day out.would u save me?
Would u?
Hahahaa
Save yourself from me.
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Qalb.
How calm, amiable.
You look,from the skies,
Aziza,how frail is my
Flight in your air and
Surreal your sight.
My heart is drunk
My soul a shepherd,
We graze in the lands
Of sky,in blue n pink
You call me,to dip
My barren soul in
Your atrocious soil.
My existence;shattered,
I run wild in ur hamlet to
Collect my pieces,ease to
my heart,i find none.
Aziza,you are my ablution,
To the divine,we travel,hand
In hand;oblivious.we sulk and
merry together on the funerals.
My heart is drunk with your
Beauty ,my existence is
Filled with your love.
Day and night,i write,
Billet doux,for your lost
Glory.shell shocked I
Am,by plunged barbed
wires in your bosom.
Aziza,come back,to me.
I long your deja vu. Before
I return to the cosmic abode.-
How queerly you shared gazes of strangeness, As if I were a blackhole;
tried to cocoon your aura away
From me.your hands reeked of melancholic adieus and your Eyes
Dared not to meet mine.In a moment
The crimson in my heart Collapsed like
A castle of cards.
How could reality be so sulking!
How could we be strangers ?
How Could we? How?
My heart wandered through
Vales of questions ,
Had I answers;would raise
Many more questions !
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Tu kahi nahi phir bhi tu har kahi
Tujhe ghazal kahu ya Marsia,
ittar ki sheeshi yaa Ba'rish ke
mausam main chai Ki chus'kiyan,
Mujhe ma'lum nahi,par tujhe bata'
Dun ki jab b tere rastu se guzarte h
Har cheh'rein main tujhe dhoondtein
H,hawa'un se tera pata poochtein h,
Tu kahi nahi ,phir bhi tu har kahi !
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