Silhouettes intrigue me.
They are dark on the inside
and bright all around.
Much like most of us.

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I linger in the lanes
where I once met you.
Now all I have are hazy
silhouettes of your face
your voice all scratched
and your kisses slurry.

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I sleep
with the silhouettes
of yesterday's desires,
not able to recognize them
as the calibrated reflections
of the Lord's will.

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The silhouettes of the burning charcoal,
like your burning heart,
decipher the ache of your rage.

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//Of fires and silhouttes//

Remember, that the fire of dysphoria always desires to consume the silhoutte of a dream,

So, when you see your dreams smouldering,

Don't try to save them.
Don't, ever, try to water the fire down.
Don't ever ever think, that you have it in you to watch your dreams smother down.

It is better to let the fire burn. Burn. Burn. Burn.
Let the fire burn all of it as you watch your dreams turn into ash at your feet.
Touch the leftovers..Feel them , if you must.
Let your body ache, because your soul has already burnt out along with the silhouette of your dreams.

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I've often wondered why I love silhouettes... and of late I realised, maybe, yes, just maybe, coz, silhouettes have no grey areas... everything is clear in black and white... nothing to interpret, nothing left to imagine; and nothing vague... everything is as it is.. the good n bad; the hope n despair; the love n hate; everything... there is no gap for doubt or treachery; n maybe that's what I love about it

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And those were the times:
I used to be someone else,
Someone I could never be real
And someone unworthy to live,
Times I didn't discover myself.

Now that I know who I am,
I wish to stay the same for ever;
Budding, in the world of writers,
Beginner, in the karate journey,
Pioneer, in discovering myself.

Never try to pull or push me,
I amn't gonna oscillate anymore;
Not for one who controlled me,
Never for the ones who faked,
Neither who toyed me around.

The silhouettes of past neither
The shadows of the present,
Could push me around like a
Game ball in hands of hitters;
I am sole controller of myself.

-

Silhouettes appeared,
Outlined with a golden glow
at dawn.
As the sun rose,
Its rays arrayed through the foliage,
and were cradled on the ground.
The silhouettes faded
into an illuminating glory,
Due to sun's omnipresence.

The dusk subtly forged a path for
the night.
Silhouettes regained their presence,
Outlined with a silvery glow
this time.
Basked in cool breeze
With fire flies, chirping crickets
by their side.

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Silhouettes of my inner consciousness grieved at the utmost separation of our souls,
While I remained numb.... my lips were sealed with fate.

-

When a drawing matures in forms and shapes it is easier to present the ideas through silhouette

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