The Wall, and I

The wall of doubt that, I with certainty, raised to glory

Stings the heart; my vision, set ruthlessly ablaze;

Sworn to be built, so as not to repeat the story,

Finds me yet again, in a maze within a maze.


What disparity lies, in what all occupies our thoughts:

You and I: do we not cherish only, tiring ourselves to sleep..!

Craving to experience in all consciousness, an illusion

Of a dream; a dream, dear Slumber dare never keep!







I See You

To be in a place, so wondrously enchanted

In an instance, where my fairy tale wish gets granted.


The tune David hummed; like a spell

Was cast over those who could listen well:

Love transcended upon the hills;

No vacant notes, no cheap thrills…


Each chord escaping, from his lyre,

Would pierce through their souls, set on fire.

No more was a need for a talk of words:

Nothing ambiguous, nothing absurd.


Sweet winds of favour do have to arise.

So, turbulence of the waves holds no surprise.

I pay attention to your silence more than to your voice:

Your rhythm my focus, whilst blocking all noise.

Bad Use

The mist was deceptive,

Just as the illusion of her that I

Had gotten used to loving,

Fortunately or otherwise.


All that I had imagined to be mine

Was now a mockery of me,

Nothing else, nothing more;

Hence, nothing of good use…

I wonder if things have ‘bad uses’ too!?


And if such a term does care to exist,

It’s been a lifetime of bad uses, I persist

Didn’t you see what became

 of the previous bucket list!


Running out of the shower naked,

No eureka moment, but as if electrocuted:

Shame is shamed, not purified,

In the face of a neurosis, denied.


And thus I find no viable excuse

To a lifetime of all that bad use! 


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