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I awoke before the birds, a deep and heavy despair stirring me from a restless sleep. Instead of tossing and turning for longer, I pulled a blanket to the balcony and sat in the darkness, and watched in wonder as the first flurries of the season began to fall silently from above. As they did, the birds awoke, one by one and sang their song. I sat there watching and listening, fir hours. There would be time to run and play and create when the sun comes up, and it would lift my heavy heart. But for that moment, sitting in the darkness, with the birds the morning sky and my sorrow- It was okay. It was enough.

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I guess the things we can't do in reality has a way to give us a feeling of satisfaction after we do it in our dreams.

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Sometimes I wonder what exactly it is that fog is trying to conceal. Does it appears so that the spirits can walk among us, slightly too translucent for our eyes to grasp behind the misty veil, so that they can feel moonlight and sunrise and dewy grass on their ghostly skin once more ? Or is it hung like a stage curtain, allowing the sun and the moon to meet in secret behind it and swap stories about all they've seen in the opposite sides of the sky? Or maybe it could be a spell- cast by fairies and eleves and the creatures of the children stories, so that they can leave their hiding spots in abandoned birds nests and the hollows of big old trees and flutter freely under the rising sun, gathering nuts and berries for their supply stores.
I like that one best.

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It's 2 am.
I have been overwhelmed for many days now. It came on quietly, as I walked alone through the streets from home, watching through swirls and whirls in my wanderstruck mind. I know why it started- I looked ahead all of a sudden after months and months of being blissfully blind to anything beyond the next few feet in from of me. I dared to dream about what could come next in my life. I wasn't even able to write or think. And now again I feel butterflies dance with Ravens in my chest like old lovers, and no lullaby I play them to sleep.

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Resentment crept in again.
When will it stop haunting me?
I did it all for you, all for us.
But why does it feels like a broken record?
I lowered my head, I had no response.
I have been just existing all my life.
Only to find out that everything I do is a waste of time.
And everything I don't is a crime against my soul.

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But if I were to write about love......

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Kamre ki wo diwar,
Jisse
Subeh ki wo dhoop
roz aati h
milne
Aur aise chum leti hai
Jaise mili ho
Barso se!
Diwar bhi to
Gale lgte hi
Pasar jata h
Dhoop ki chaati k niche

Tabhi achank
koi kamre m aakr
Gira deta hai ghr
k sabhi parde
Aur
Bnd krdeta hai
khirkiya aur darwaze!

Diwar aur dhoop
Jaate hai bichar!

Ek pal ko ruko,
Aisa hi kuch to
"Insano" m bhi hota h na ?

Kaha manta hai hmara samaj
Mohabbat Ko ?

Har prem mein gira deta hai
Dharti, samaj k parde
Aur dur krdeta h
Diwar ko dhoop se.

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Escaped beats inside the living corpse,
Increases yearn for living once more.
I'm caged in the hands of running corpse.
Now changing dimensions calm my core.

O'dear, I never wished to be immortal
only want to rise again.
Like the phionex, I'll live for eternal.
Still muddy hearts welcome the flood.

I've never seen deep blue seas and snow.
I've never dreamt of a tranquil shore.
Take me where life ends and seeds grow.
Take me where the meteors curve door.

In the era of nebula and black holes
Will you be the earth for wandering souls?

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And now,
When I dust the facade of my dreams
I find my horrors rubbed off on them.

They are afraid of being Rose,
Of you being my jack
They are afraid of letting our titanic sink
Into the chasmic waters of dreary Oblivion.

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