The wretched-spiral of love,
never ends,
It, never would,
I, never could,
stay in the grey forever.
That, I must say
though, it was your hangover.
Alas!
I was left with but a hole to
surrender.
For I wrapped, in alms for you,
my heart in
lavender.

-

सिलसिला-ए-इश्क़-ए-कम्बख्त से
अब गुरेज़ नहीं,
ख़ुमारी का आलम था
पर फ़रेब नहीं,
तोहफा-ए-बेकरारी का
जो तूने दिया,
एक दिल ही बचा था सीने में, जा
वोह भी, मेरी जान,
तेरे नाम कर दिया |

-

I am your pipette.
You sucked the life into me -
held it with your breath.

-

Kafkaesque

-

Kafkaesque

-

©Kafkaesque

-

©Kafkaesque

-

If words could kill;
In thy poetic dark will,

You'd
wield the sword-shaped pen
In your sordid, snaring hand,

My fate,
Written prick by prick,
In the icky thick red-ink,

Oozing out,
Of the neck, the eyes, & then the soul,
Of thy crumbling paper-wax voodoo-doll.

Alas!
Thy black magic poetry,
Is a death to behold.

-

My second home is
Over the hills,
High above.
The first one's
Your sweet heart,
My love.💘

-

-kafkaesque

-