I can imagine myself standing short in front of the gaze
mirrored by the maze of dimensional ocean, sinking me in,
deeper and deeper…
until my voice turns into the sonic echo
and I turn into those that swim deep down the waves.
Have you felt the feeling where you want to write so much but you have not much of words to describe the feelings you are feeling?
I’m feeling the same, I have feelings, some empty, some full, some happy some keeps me drool.
May be these feelings are not to be said out loud. These are to be kept inside, protecting it’s beauty from the outer world.
I don’t know what to do with these feelings. With the unknown I dearly adore it in the nepotism of my feelings.
Have you? Have you felt the same?
May be some feelings are meant to kept silent in-between some irregular walls where the beginning and the ending feels the same. Chaotic? Well, sometimes the chaos keeps you so busy and so drowned into it. The chaos make you bow down your knee below it. You don’t find the lumen. And you finally start to believe the chaos as your reality and the lethargy keeps you held in it. Hugging you tight. After a while it starts to feel comfortable in it. You start to feel, there’s no difference trying it again. There’s no outside.
May be the inside starts feeling the world to you. May be?!
May be the chaos eventually becomes the cloud in your mind that rains so hard; even the outer world sometimes gets the glance to the beauty in the drops fell cold down the cheeks.
So do I say..
I fell in love with me a little more.
A little more with that me who is happy,
just as happy to live inside my own world.
I fell in love with me twice a little more.
A little more with that me who is more happy,
just as happy to give up rest of the world.
I feel selfless in the most selfish way.
Look inside me,
I shall invite you to be the world inside my world.
Welcome to the chaos.
My midnight insomnia hasn’t hit in the morning yet.
But the sun has readily brewed to break your fast.
My goodnight has been waiting till the goods turn in mail.
Yet the warmth of your sun consolidates my night.
But the remains of good from my night
have been stolen by the good of your morning.
Where my last night dinner has now been midnight supper.
And the shift hopes for new yearnings to offer.
I reach into the theatre of my own world,
when I closed my eyes.
No tickets, just 3D glasses;
I see those lips like rosebuds peeping out of snow,
Would not want to rest in momentum but
wishing to rest upon yours.
That thunder, those slaughtering rain,
and us…
Slow, tender, smooth, buttery moving
Senses to bone, Egypt to the Rome.
Inside? like a train,
whistling, juggling, building up momentum,
Outside? building up moments.
I can feel the taste of those rain
that grows louder when our tongues curled.
Where the world is half asleep,
I feel the shade we held as our world.
Oh those dripping avalanche under your neck,
I feel like skiing my lips and wish to fall
from that cliff.
Oh mine to the yours, yours to the mine,
beating in a sync,
as our body dances on those riff.
City lights and those witty nights,
Hug tights and butterfly flights.
I felt the interval none to happen.
I suddenly woke up,
in a hot sunny 2 pm where
my dreams were high with opium,
Everything felt so me,
everything felt so we,
but everything went so flee,
in a hot sunny 2 pm.
In a hot sunny 2 pm,
I feel so small in the room what feels like a hall,
everything feels falling, the remains are nothing but wall.
I’m a Raven, filled with raze.
I’m a Ravan, skilled in ways.
Hands so tight as silver maiden,
what i touch is what it fades.
Filled in a fluffy, thats so hard to wade.
Dived much in my own lust,
My body and my soul gets laid.
Do words really matter?,
when the silence is all I want.
Not the one when hearts faints.
But the only when soul mates.
Not the one when voices blocked,
But the only when lips locked.
Not the one when entanglement sucks,
But when the lonely flourishes flocks.
My words seems stuck to commute.
But silence can move you,
even when it’s mute.
The psychics said that Maira was being attached
by an angry ghost
because she had been a witch in a previous life.
During her witchery, she has killed a person,
and that person’s spirit held a grudge.
The ghost planned to hunt Maria for her entire life.
That life was sadly short.
Maria poisoned herself when she was sixteen.
When she was gone, all activity stopped.
I am Maria in this life.
Like the sun in the sky,
I find myself shining in my own space.
Burning myself to brighten you up.
But the shade is behind you,
which remind you of my red.
Thunder nights and I’m with you.
Believing that you’re looking me through.
Feeling your hands touching my hair,
but what you see is just a curtain flare.
I know you love this windy layer,
but you don’t realize I’m breathing air.
I can’t see you neither I can hear.
You’re also alone as like me,
so you come near to set self free.
Difference is just I’m a wind-ow.
And you are some one’s widow.
So, it’s up to you how you thrive.
But still your presence
make me feel alive.