Broken twice

Broken twice,
First by her,
then by her replica,
No fault of theirs,
Just my folly 
because I looked for solution 
in the same problem,
I looked for the remedy to the pain
from the same stone,
Getting broken twice 
is born of my choice,
I don't blame them
because that's all they can do
caught in their own pain,
So what if I got again slain.

The dying year

You salute the rising sun and the upcoming fates,

And dump the rest as mere names and dates.

But my burdened self on death bed (or in labour pain?) sighs,

'Dears, you forget those fallen promises amidst these hasty byes!'

Hope

 This foggy, cold midnight says,

The next sun will have fresh rays

that will warmly gloat over the wrong shades

bitingly, filthily draped around the 

beleaguered, beggared, deprived mass of flesh,

Tomorrow it just won't be mere trash!

A beginning it will be, all new and fresh!

The queen of a reverse world

 

I stand upright in my reverse world,

With my own shape uniquely curled

as per my own unchained ways,

Your nights are my days,

You are free to scorn or spurn

or even try to burn

my freedom wings,

O thou vain kings,

futile will be thy taming strings,

How can you tame someone whose soul sings

the songs of formless love,

Eagles you can't hunt this dove

because when you pursue me

you have your legs where

your head ought to be.

Lord's searchlight

 

It’s a rapidly greying, gloomy world

and the Lord has to hide and peep

through a hole

—a thin sunbeam through a hole in clouds—  

to spot any trace of

truth and honesty

that may be lying around.

Owning the entire self

 

Here I own my entire identity;

no need to just run after

fractions of myself that are

eulogized as pathways to the ultimate.

It might be that this ‘I’ in me

breeds my wickedness,

But doesn’t it sire

my art, writing, music and painting?

A little bit of goodness

 

Basically, the main recipe of the dish

involves dishonesty and fraud,

The so-called honesty

is just a tiny ingredient

used as a spice while frying.

But however bad the times are,

the table full of rogue, fake, swindled dishes

won’t be serviceable

if not for those tiny sprinklers of honesty,

That’s the power of honesty and goodness,

Its little molecule can carry

mountain loads of lies and deceit.