Promises

 

Nothing but your promises hung hollow in thin air

Corrupting the only blues, I held true.

Tried as you might, your charade was the brute I embraced near.

It seemed to be nothing but the measured poison I drank to death.

How that your promises were slurped with unmatched care!

Dropping out of lips like a gentle cherub seemed to pace

Powering on to me; Stomping and grounding raze beyond measure

Obliterating the forceful amour I braced myself with.

Hopes netted down to bareness, Innocence shattered, and I breathed;

Lived down the shame that was cohesive of your conceited self.

Wasted promises you tied me with, choking me to my own blood

Draftiness be my guided ally to your remembrance.

 Red roses.  Stars. Moon and faraway galaxies?

Damned be the promises that you left in the deep crater of my frailty!

Damned be your deaf ears which seemed unfazed by my heart’s sniveling!

Damned be your hands for flouting it open for your own culpable delight!

Oh you sly fox, while you went too far in your trickery, did you not at once

Damn yourself and the ruined promises you pledged me?

 

Away

​

 

Beneath the stars that coupled against the faintness

She lay unmoving against the frail grass.

Her heart reeking with unscathed tenderness

Her own say, that fell weakly against the fall of the day

Helpless she lay, her pastel skin stinging from the dent

Oh darling, do you still in vain search for the girl she used to be?

But how that your own wicked thoughts fail you!

She has packed her gear and left

Mislaid to a land where seasons aren’t often

A land that doesn’t trade lie for truth

She has indeed turned your deceit into poetry

So hush your wiliness for once in your life

For you’ve been presaged with a word of warning;

So forceful that beauty trembles and strength cowers

The one that can smolder you black with its silhouette

That can yet lace down with the articulacy of saline tears

The skin she wears maybe of calm but behold!

She would forge the spiraling hell fire before she let herself perish again

The next time you try to mute her down with your bitter twisted lies

Oh darling, it won’t be the tears that you would see

It would be fire. Fire would be it!

Chaste and most prevailing in form

The Epic Platter Of Inspiration : Anything And Everything You Need To Be Reminded To Master The Art Of Surviving

Oh honey, how that my body can’t take any more loathing for you to presume they’re at fault for all those disgrace that is to befell on you!

How long will you pretend not to notice every cell in your half deceased body beseeching for consideration?

It might sound loutish, but I’ve grown irate and restive to your self inviting misery and wretchedness.

You might carve up your collected misfortunes and wear it like a badge on your frayed garb.

But when you sullenly dwell in that self erected hell, bait not with me with that imposed warp.

Oh darling, do I need to instruct you twice to go pick up your guise from that devil sick of indulgence?

And sweetheart, you needn’t at once oil your train of thoughts, to boldly pass a blow to their truth corrupted faces when they arrive with that lame old lie.

“You’ll never make it “They say? Big deal.

They say things won’t work out in your favor when you are mouthful of air? Bullshit.

They want to see you broken, bowed shoulders and teary eyes; when you’re more than ready to paint the solar system on the back of your hand? Go figure.

Let them denounce and assess who they think you are. But you, you, my dear friend wear their revulsion and doubt like war paint on the dawn of your triumph. Yes, I get it. You’re normal and impulsive, messy and awkward, unsure and hushed, totally weird and bat shit crazy and so many things you can’t remember the words for.? Yes. I get it. I really do. But believe me when I say these are the things that will make you a hideous mastermind like none other in this muffled world.

So tell me. Tell me now!

Will you still shoot me with your fleeting looks of aloofness..

If I tell you to believe in your heart, once and for all?

If I tell you to stop choking on the pride that was served to you on a platter of sabotage disguised as ‘inability’?

If I tell you to let your teary eyes for ones glisten with glee when you see yourself on the top of the world?

And lastly, if I proudly ask you to start building your fucking empire?

I know it won’t be as easy as dancing your soul out in the rain.

But I’m positive that it is right.

And who knows?  It might even seat itself in the frontage of all the paramount judgments you’ll ever make; be the inspiration that your masterpiece seeks.

And when you set out your wings to finally soar to unmatched splendor, I implore you to do that unmistakably and without fright.  Let that be done with a heart amenable to change

Yes princess, with all that being said, I believe that you will conquer the world on your own terms. Just like I did.

For, Your dreams are your revenge.

 

 

Love Me Like You Mean It : A Poem

Love me like I’ll forget the difference between bliss and terrain every time you fondle me with your placid hands.

Love me like I’ll overlook breathing whenever I dotingly take a glimpse of you.

Love me like you’ll never get tired of my insanity even though the fear of oblivion overawes your vigor.

Love me like I’ll not think twice to deem heart breaks as nothing but a hyped recline.

Love me like I’ll embrace my cavernous wounds and fragility, with a heart which is glinting with a newfound joy.

Love me like you aren’t afraid to let yourself descend to the bottomless chasm of hell, just to keep me with you.

Love me like I‘ll get butterflies in my stomach every time I burrow myself in your chest.

Love me like I’ll be reminded what fairy tales are made of, whenever I see you.

Love me like you’ll forge myriad truths to never let me go.

Love me like every utterance of your name will taste like honey in my mouth.

Oh darling, love me like I’ll never forget that I’m worthy of love.

 

The Mind Salver : What My Wounded Soldier Needs To Know

 

I don’t  promise that this anecdote can be wrapped up into something unforced which a pervasive trespasser  will immediately comprehend .But I chose to go halves about it because something about it doesn’t settle impeccably into myself . The idealist in me might long to call it a ‘forceful’ prose which the papyrus can’t handle, yet something about it demands to felt; to be examined thunderously by those spirits who lost themselves in the course of surviving in this rather dim witted world.

Yes You! What are you mauling about? Do you still in vain fancy that some of us are mere fools who can’t see right through your pretence?  I can make out that you are wounded, no matter how much your shaking body might protest. I know that your pain cannot be explained by metaphors or articulacy either. I turn ashen every time you beam to my face, cause the recline is too much to take. You might trade lie for truth, but Hush darling! Doesn’t it ever get into your thick skull that truth doesn’t have versions and that; it is the only thing that can set you liberated? Have you not noticed that your words find a guilt accord when it ends; spirit against paper like fish out of water?

You might be too much for some, too little for the rest, but how that they truthfully make out from the brief period of knowing you that you’ll never have a middle ground! Yes that’s the way you are.”Fierce.”And my wounded child, what are you scared about? They might break you, taunt you, and heave neglect against you until you forget the difference between love and hate; like you are the only man under the Sun to have made a mistake. But their obscurity can never cast a shadow on you unless you let them. Life is tough darling, but believe me when I say   you are tougher than life is.

I offer you no excuses but I might choose to remain hushed when you still think it’s acceptable to let the tenderness overtake your bliss. Maybe I’ll even share your blame and wear it like an apology. Why you ask? Because the finest tales are written backwards, maybe that’s the only way I can keep you with me. Can’t you think of my contemplation as bliss? Would you think I’m selfish because I want to save you from the pain of knowing me? Would you hate me for It.?  Because the skin I wear maybe of calm but my armor is made of chaos. I might be a lost star looking for her light, but when you are ready, I’ll come into your life and propose you an entire galaxy when you anticipated a single planet. Because I’m the girl with the strength of a damsel who wears her own pain like diamond around her neck. I have the heart of a poetess with fire in her eyes.

Now that I’ve met you.

Can’t you stop chasing your pain with whiskey?

Stop being the thief to hide behind a facade?

But, be a flare of hope in a gushing world of despair

Be a hero a in the strife.

 

A Tale Told Twice

Loving her was not something you perfected, but how that she beats herself with blame for not making it easier for you. Oh darling ,how  that it is her curse to write about you but never see you again.?

She’s sorry that there was a storm within her even on the sunniest of days. Sorrier that she wore her strength and darkness equally well ; She has always been half hell and half goddess.
And now that she look back to old days, she realizes that you loved her but not really , that you were just another pretender who stayed just long enough to mend your ego. You walked way with her heart that was used to your narcissist ways.With twinge in her bosom, she prayed you well every time you shadowed her with your glances of  doubt. She did nothing buy heave a sigh every-time you wounded  her soul with your obsessing self. Oh boy, must she had the essential courage to mutter “Fuck your pretense” every time you kept her company with your comforting lies, maybe she wouldn’t have turned out to be a mess with a heartbeat as she is.. How foolish of her to be tenacious to turn out to be the lie that he wanted so bad. And baby, do you realize that she changed your name to love and made her heart believe that lie. ?

While you were away , she was drunk on imagination and that has turned out to be her favourite intoxication. She wore only two colours -passion and black. And when she lost it all ; when her soul ripped apart from your indifference, she prayed that she isnt as worthless as your absence made her feel.

You lost her because she wasn’t hard to love or hold, but because she was made out of your absence ; She was born of everything you ignored , the beautiful poetry you read , but failed to comprehend. Or so, the depth of her love yesterday became the depth of her pain today.

Her soul and love was not the hardest to keep ,it was her trust. Yet you broke it. Destroyed her beyond repair. Yes . She can see you . Beyond the plastic smile and effervesce, is a boy ; a wounded soldier who longs to be recognized. She can see you just like someone looks through glass. Maybe this sadness is weakness to you, but you are the weak link to judge a battle you never had to fight ; a battle which she had to fight everyday to survive in this hookup world. Why do you keep coming back to her, like you’ve some unfinished business .? Maybe you do. Maybe her heart keeps calling your name . But isn’t it wonderful that she has grown accustomed to her scars.? She ain’t ripping it open for you to touch it .

And when you decide to give her a shootout on the streets of cynicism and defeat, its not her tears that you’ll see . But look out for fire. But she is not sorry. She deserves a boy who looks into her eyes to catch his breath; Someone who holds out his arms like he’s offering wings.

You ask why.? Because she has cheated herself for so long. Now that she has the blood of a dragon, she ain’t settling for half the skies when she knows that she deserves it all, the heaven too.

 

The Little Girl

And in the silence that surrounded her, she kept thinking how long she had to bear it all, bear the pain that kept wounding her soul everyday. But sitting alone in the wilderness that kept her company, she couldn’t but complain for she was growing accustomed to her twinge.

She wondered whether her life would’ve been any different if she let others peek-a-boo at the glorious battle which she kept fighting every day. But she knew she had no turning back , she was yet to slide in to eternity. The pain of her heart was rhythmic to the slow yet tenacious downpour that fell. But she felt numb, cold even . And as she waited for her last breathe , it dawned her that she was just another Hennessy in a tea cup.

And so she woke up from a dream which she thought she never could. The glory was met with the new dwindle of hope that evaded her soul. Cause she was the little girl who was yet to turn her dreams to her revenge. The girl with small hands and big eyes who never stopped asking for more. And yes, she was more than ready to paint the solar system on her back. Or so a phenomenal end .