Forgive yourself for what you couldn’t do,
With all the beautiful things you do, perhaps this you were not meant to.

Forgive yourself for you’ve judged yourself too harsh,
Your hope may have drowned gasping, and in silence so has your heart,
But from the tip of your toe on the mother earth,
To your brown eyes that turn hazel before the dusk,
“Forget and forgive at sunset”, you’re source of something infinite,
You are astounding at what you do, “you’ve done enough and everything will be alright”.

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Segment of the stem burning in the colours of indigo,
While the lone leaf suffocates in the condensing smoke,
Perhaps I have become colour blind, because only shades of sombre engulfing me,
Perhaps it should be the end of us, as ashes settle we are doomed to repeat for eternity.

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If I am life, I harbour death too.
I am the passage, in me also the turbulence propagate through.
If I am the storm teasing the sky, I am also the storm decimated by the iron giant.
If I run at the speed of light, then for eternity I live in the hollow of the night.

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My eyes cannot comprehend to what my mind remembers. A millennia has passed and in conflict another millennia will pass. I will remember again, only to forget at last.

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May the soul of me,
Finds a better afterlife than it be.

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What a way for the nebula of collapsing stars,
Succumbing to the gravity of its dying heart,
What a way for the turbulence of an escaping star dust,
To carry its soul far into the contours of an astronomer,
So that the assembly of the star dusts can find its luminous remainder.

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The woods have made me their own,
vein replaced by vine.
The more I lost myself within,
the more of me I find.

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The night spreads through the vast wilderness indifferent to my frightened soul. The longer I wander the more I feel like home.

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I have begun travelling alone,
Through crowded streets, crowded bajaars
crowded fairs and empty stairs,
Through empty restaurants with lonesome chairs,
empty theatre and constant stares.

I was sulking once like a ghost through places,
Not to draw attention or eyes,
But I have begun to be more assertive now,
I am claiming some space for my size, for my eyes,
I like the ground I’m standing now, and I will move only when I feel like.

I have begun meeting the eye,
Rather looking at the feet and hoping for a spaceship crash, or an insurgent attack,
I refuse to be limited to erratic heart and panic hands,
I am a soul of my own, learning to live, learning to die, learning to tame anxiety while I’m still alive.

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O’ my brother,
my brother, brother,
Why do you lie so still.
What has become of you,
Once with a billion stories,
What are you conspiring with the silence?
How must I take it,
How do I stop your lifeless eyes from consuming me,
You have gone too far my brother maybe a century till we meet,
Till then we’ll be almost all, but not all, forever be.

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