giving you a chance
to find yourself
before you find me.

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In the end,
all it took was a tiny virus
to keep us prisoners,
our dreams and hopes,
scared and scarred for life.

Not money, not power.

A tiny virus, that cannot even
live on its own,
showed us how brilliantly fragile
all our lives were.

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calls happiness a dream
but tragedy, a poem.
If you do call yourself a writer,
are you really looking for a
happily ever after?

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that can bloom without the sun,
or possibly wither while it's still young.

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ProBlemS aRe liKe cHor aNd You aRe likE sipaaHii, let's finish all thE choR whicH coMes iN your waY and maKe your liFe choRleSs...😁😂😁

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And
when the last
piece of my heart
was broken
into tiny pieces,
it still worked.
And the peace
that prevailed then,
was like none other.
Because now
there were no
more pieces
left to be broken.

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Take me to your ruins.
Show me the missing bricks,
parts of you that people who left, took;
show me the walls crumbling
like the remains of promises never kept;
show me the passages clogged
with memories of laughter-filled nights;
show me the gaping holes
that look just like someone you once loved;
show me the abandoned home
that echoes the presence of life
even though it looks like
nothing is happening inside.
Show me your broken, battered soul
and I'll weave words to show you
how comforting your heart still is,
how beautiful a being you still are.

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उसकी बगल में ही सोता है वो
सिर्फ क़ब्रिस्तान ही हैवानों का जहान नहीं.....

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