I'll see you in my dreams
In a sequence of scenes with chandelier
Falling down and crashing on the floor
Followed by the glass petals of bloody
Dreams, hopes and perspectives,
Everything will be dark except you,
Glowing under the moonlight just for
Me.
Smiling with your lips closed
And eyebrows with a sigh
Smudged in black mascara and sad,
Looking daunting and caring,
Ready to take me and board the ferry.

I often wake up by then
And see the sun rising
Birds chirping, light streaks shining,
Through these hollow crevices
Of my heart where this story dwells
Without an end.

-

Looking up the mountains,
I saw the vanilla sky,
Puffs of butterscotch cotton candy,
Melting your tongue with that sugary dip,
And you start hallucinating over
Multiple dreams.

I see the visuals of the heavenly made,
Through this dusky hollow gaze of men,
Only to realize that I fail in realizing,
How much random can be a coincidence.

We try to figure out everything
And yet we fail.
Fate is like chaos ending a civilization,
Dwelling till eternity is quite inevitable.

-

Wondering on how
Far will I wander off
Until I turn back and
See what's left of me
Isn't me!

-

You live a very strange life;
You are born with an identity
You cherish;
You grow up to become an identity
You know someday it would perish;
You live with an identity quite strange,
And yet you spend a lifetime
Figuring out yourself.

You chase, you stop, you chase, you stop,
Alas, you have come this far;
Carrying an identity primal to all,
Pinning it down on your chest,
Until your last breath,
Until you fall.

-

In dead silence, I still hear the echoes,
The ones we cried out loud together,
Holding each other in this damnation.

-

Gods.
Divine or doomed?
An age old manifested lie?
Or a manic episode of mankind
Getting shroomed!

Some say they are white,
Some say they are groomed,
Some like to propagate hope under shadows of fear,
Some like to prance around in their birth suit!

Who are they ?
What are they ?
Do they really care what’s happening out here?
Everyone selling their own cheap knockoff
Like it’s a vanity fair!

Only if they could really see
How shamelessly churned their image is
By groups of futile mortals
In attempts to meet their own selfish needs!

In damnation we shall ask again,
Gods?
Did they make us?
Or did we make them?

-

Looking down.
I see a reflection I don't recognise anymore
A broken slate chalked in rainbow colors,
A Painting of what I was and what I have
Become.

Looking back.
I see faces I don't see anymore;
I see a destination I fled long ago;
Disguises I don't wear anymore;
I see a crippled ship with emerald cargo
Trying to set sail away from the bloody
Shore.

Looking up.
I see a limitless sky full of shooting stars
Harbouring wishes of the mortals;
And I try to find out the one
Which you chose for us to be together;
In this rabbit hole.

Looking everywhere but here.
Trying to pacify what's not there.

-

Nights and nights of hallucinations, visions.
Strangling me with hope, delusions vicious.
Like a riddle, it goes in circles in my head,
Once called it destiny, now blame it on my fate.

Am I still dreaming or am I dead?
Is there a tomorrow ?
Is there an escape ?

-

The waves leaving the shore,
Leaving behind a carpet of moist
Dreams of a tomorrow weaved in
Happiness, uncertainty and tough love.

Leave me like
You don't want to but you have to,
For it is what life asks from you,
A sacrifice for the greater good,
For a home without fights and a foe,
For a life filled with joy and a hope.

Leave me like
There wasn't a us, just a lust,
A lust of a belonging, wrapped in arms,
And you just have to wake up,
To see the sunrise of a new dawn,
Leaving behind a hopeless romantic,
With an incomplete story, a new thorn.

-

Drenched.
In a painful love and a lovable pain;
The kind of which drives you insane.

Drenched.
In this cacophony of a disturbed chord.
Plucking on the strings of a mundane life
While walking the path of our redemption,
Trying to find 'ourselves' in this lifeless
Horde.

Drenched.
In so many unheard voices, whispers,
In this shallow crowded head of mine.
Yet I like to revisit our tombstone
From time to time.
To reminisce our sweet short past
You, my 'petrichor'.

-