The traffic was stuck
I was in my car and just in a juncture, my world fell apart
For when I was flicking through memos
 I stumbled across one old evernote
Reading its title sent frenzy down my spine
For it broached about the day which was exactly like today
When sky was weeping as if hades took the heaven's charge
And boulders with debris were sliding in underworld's rage
Monstrosity of that moment was heaving me into pieces
Wrenched heart started beating even more expeditiously
For a guy in teens banged on the casement 
With benumbed sagacity and paralysed psyche, I somehow made my mind to let him in
But as he entered, my mind got all flared up
For his fragile being reminded me of a demonic deity I once confronted 
Half an hour passed by and I dared to turn around
Except that pungent smell, there wasn't anything to brood over
Don't know from which dark abyss of satan he belonged to
Notwithstanding, that grisly night made me rethink about my decision of finding solace in solitude.

-

An innocent eyes
With an amazing face
In her frenzy fascination
Building her own destination
Firdaus

-

It's a sunny afternoon. I clutch my bag to my chest. A few kilometres. Three, at most. I start walking. My legs feel like a sack of potatoes that i'm dragging, each step heavier than the next. My hands, pale white, grasp the bag tighter and tighter till veins pop up on my knuckles. Eyes closed, I take a shaky intake of breath, and blow out forcing my nerves to calm. It's okay, they are just people, i remind myself.
My eyes strip open. I break into a run. The world around me is a hazy blur of colour as my feet thunder along the busy street as I run, breathless, gasping for air, dodging carts and stones, narrowly missing passerby. I halt. Inertia sweeps me forward as i stop a breath away from the entrance of our city's graveyard. I look around. All clear. My slender fingers push open the gates. It creaks, not much cold despite the onset of winter. Winter, already. Maybe some of it has settled in me. I can see her grave even from this distance.
I walk slowly, letting the silence seep in. "Mrs. hyuzaki" her grave says. "Loved and cherished." I smile as i place a flower wreath. "Sorry i had to kill you". I smirk "Your son's next".

-

i don't want to breathe
i don't want to feel
i don't want to cry
i want nothingness
to hide me in its bosom.
i don't want to be seen.
this pandemonium...
will break me into smithereens
she...
distresses, bit by bit,
every bit of my being.
solace...
heavenly solace,
is yet to arrive.
now my dear,
pray tell me
am i flying?
am i drowning?
nay!
i am just jesting.
and laughing
frenzily!
laugh, you too.

-

Savoury than sweet.
His zesty lips a perfect mix of salt and spice leaving an unforgettable, fiery sensation on mine.

-

i
was smelling the rose.
a few beads of dewy pearls
fell;
kissing the petals in a fluid
artfulness-
and in a nameless frenzy,
permeating their velvet
interiority.
ergo, leaving my eyes
in a perpetual abandonment.

- the last few drops.

-

Going on with our lives
Waking up to our routine
Sleeping to wake up
Still a routine
So many individuals
Countless thoughts
But to see above all mediocrity
To acknowledge:
Life is but a reward
Of endless flings with death
How beautiful it is to let go of sanity
To forget all norms, to give in
Take me as I am
Take my naked soul
Integrate 'you' with 'me'
And give this world our share of frenzy

-

In the silent stilly night,
I wonder and wonder, Infinite;
If I ever cross your mind,
Any which way, kind or unkind;
Does it ever make you smile,
My frenzy, in the labyrinths of Time?
Or you just scorn the unrequited glance,
Once upon a Time, through sheer chance?

-

A whim which dwells in solitude,
but floats out,
like an execution with a boom.

The misconception of this boom is:
People see it as "what a clamor!"
But our heart says "what a shot!" And actually That's an end of that clamor within itself.

And also It's okay!
Be an admirer of spontaneity and frenzy actions with amuse.

-

Sitting,
Beneath the shadow of sun
I thought about trust,
Is it a mirror?
Or sand over crust?

Thinking,
Why a crab lugs her child
Even after surmising it'll slay her indeed,
Is it the trust?
Or belief towards reflection of her deed?

Pondering,
Why a child make the house of sand
Withal perceiving the wind won't let it stay,
Is it the trust?
Or the hope to lead the wind astray?

Decisiving,
What the trust actually is?
It's neither the mirror nor the sand,
It's the dazling petal of fate,
For every soul over the land.

-Rutba

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