A Chef-d’oeuvre


Scent of the papyrus lured me
Scattered were some letters
Waiting to be weaved once
Into a masterpiece unsung.

A ticket to fame shout head
Flare high the Imaginations
I sit alone in a blank might
Making no sense of empty sheets.

Naked truth are all mine I speak
In the marathon of life
I lost opportunities to think
Not loved my beloved dreams.

Fool you are to feel to write
Says the annoyed head in wonder
I smirk at his foolish thoughts
For head never rhymed for me.

Let me cry for all miseries
In the embroidery I made
Filled puzzles full of convulsions
Unleashed I, with empty alphabets.

Characters make no history
Write O fool, utter head
I scribble not some art
For words are in combat

Cheated them, in hallucinations
To equate  wealth as happiness
In rush to earn and fly high
I blocked all literary quests.

Hiding in all those lies of artificiality
Left alone, with scribbles and some vacuum
Head laughs over the helplessness
I refuse to hear him, one last time.

Hiding my face in some dew
I let out a shout of pain
For the heart could not partake
And like a blast it all came.

I wrote one line of extreme distress
Then one after another came rhythms
Setting me free of all worries
A chef-d’oeuvre was in these hands.

Also prompted @Theme  Thursday, Inspiration Monday, Sunday Scribblings, Poets United, Two Shoes Tuesday, OSI and The Sunday Whirl.

Burning Words



Symbols are what they seems
When language does not speak
Jumbled it is in my present
As I dreamily remember past.

Amusingly I turn across pages
Burning in the desire to fall
Turning into ashes slowly
As I see in them my fall.

A nauseating feeling overpowered
As devil in me stood here
I forget the past, cherishing hate
Celebrating what now I lost.

Guarantee lost , writing burned
Romance of alphabets not seen
In fires of time I disappeared
Searching for unknown quests.

Taking steps of time I moved
Deadly risks I still wanted
Lusting prohibited dreams along
I gave final burial to soul.

I gave that wicked smile
As the words try to escape
Smashing it one last time
For the agony they gave.

Up in the sky saw a dove
Words riding on it wings
Telling tales of love firmly
No one ever owns words
Nor can they destroy them.

Also Prompted @3WW, Sunday Scribblings, One Single Impression, The Gooseberry Garden Also,Thank You Rash for the theme
Fire to inspire me to write something again 🙂

Freedom through Words

Disgruntled around myself
Tears crystallized in an instance
Wondering at the muse
When your demise happened.

Words were exhuming from within
As I was penning the thoughts
Prisoned within the spectrum
For as long as I ordained them .

Pain was once again felt
To give voice to my conscious
As it drilled deep within me
Not to be contained anymore.

I whispered sweet nothings
To the nous as it got liquefied
From the spectrum of rust around
It relented to speak of the within.

I got mesmerized in the rhythms
Of sounds that appeared on the maple
Speaking of life that was disappearing
I retouched for its revival once again.

It tinkled out in an abrupt manner
Yet it pained to wipe my tears
As I felt relived to see it all alive
I smiled aloud as the agony was passed.

The efforts finally gave way
Freedom of the senses were felt
Dancing in rains of the pains
I rejoiced in the harmony of the words.

Also Prompted@ 3WW and One Single Expression

An Unfinished Saga!

Not so long ago, I wrote a story,
Of the lovely dimes and their damsels,
In a different town , In a different world,
Where the identity was known ajar.

Not so long ago, Where I was me,
And the story was near and complete,
In the minds it revolved each day ,
Prompting me to write and culminate.

Not so long ago, came a breaking,
When the cork rushed off a jar,
And came a storm to pause it all,
Like a numbness life went still.

Not so long, the numbness went far,
Healing restored the cells in the brains,
And I poured the scribbling on a paper,
Hidden behind a mask but I still created.

Not so long ago, eyes stationed on a few pieces,
Of paper and of ink, where I wished to be a star,
Twinkling in the sky of fame, with the writings of a genius,
And I wondered, What will be the fate of that story,
Lost in anonymity, or a published self generating smiles in all?