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#Artist

Science and faith are the two trees in the tiny artist's path as he wanders trudging along his burden of illusion. But when he surrenders to the strength of his soul, his illusion becomes the art as the salvation crumbling all the pillars of the mortal world.

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#Poetry

As the naughty toddler with a destiny to set the mankind free; your every verse is a God. Let it unshackle the reader that kneels before it.

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Ah! The way you blush tonight
As my palms lovingly cup your cheeks
Facing each other entirely

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I love you not as a habit or an addiction, not as a desire or a need. I love you not as a prayer or a poem, not as a choice or a circumstance. I love you not as a memory or a monument, not as a destiny or a dream. I just love you like an involuntary breath. For, Love is.

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On naughty nights flirted with finesse
She's coy trembling moist in exhilaration
But on these deserted new moon nights
When bound in bed by barren dreams
Burning dry with restless desire
She slips into the trickling shower
To be caressed by steamy streams
Her squeals drowned in the tapping drops
And shivers weaving ripples in the pool
She weeps a climatic tear of surrender
To the secret vice that sets her free

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Lust

Don't dismiss lust, just yet.
It's the literature of love,
The poetry of our memories.

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Company

Lust without love is pleasure.
Lust with love is passion.
Love without lust is pristine.
Love with lust is poetry.

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We ain't limited by what we have.
Only, by what we choose to give.

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When man looks into the water,
He either sees dirt or himself.

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