Friday, December 31, 2004


Perched on the window of insanity,
I stare as it rains humanity.
As I get soaked I wonder,
Why should I?

When humanity means morality,
And for ages we secretly admire debauchery.

We sit together and wonder what comes next,
As the future peers from behind the couch,
Smirking at our foolishness.

We go over the same thing till we seem to be running after our own tails,
And time fools us into believing it has shown us a way.

All that makes no sense is termed philosophy,
And humanity bellows,
“Fool, you will follow even that which you will never understand”

Truth isn’t what you see,
It is what your told to believe.
Humanity sees a thin line between truth and lies,
As He moves this way and that, erasing the divide.

Oh what a beautiful world Humanity presents,
With stifling comfort and joy in misery,
And our goal is to suffer and strive to reach this luxury,
Later to be appreciated like a moth attracted to fire.

And as I stare into nothingness still wondering it strikes me.
I shut the window and move inside insanity,
Glad I never stepped into self-mockery.

Thursday, December 30, 2004


She gives fumbling words a path,
And the sentences they form bring tears in their eyes.
And one by one She comforts them all,
For She herself forms melancholy,
And her ice-cold fingers fetches them warmth,
The warmth that only icicles understand.
And whispers them a thousand thoughts,
None of which they understand.
She sings them to sleep,
And forms a shadow for their lost purposes.
She crumbles them under her grip
And pulls them into her dark valleys.
But when the sun shines they walk away,
Without a bow or goodbye.
She sits in her corners awaiting more outcasts,
An ugly tree that shades all those burning under the sun’s glare.

Tuesday, December 28, 2004


I thought I’d give happiness a try and though the poem took me more than a week to complete it isn’t what exactly I had planned. Anyways my poems on happiness turn out to be a letdown J so ill let it go and stick to misery.

Happiness finds me on the sands of a wasted life,
Where the sun soaks into my numbed fingers and only mocking birds cry.
I sit on the shores with my back to an inferno, whose songs evoked only pain,
Praying I forget the bittersweet taste that His miseries filled in my empty soul.
The gentle sea breeze sings me Joy melting the frost that built up in the crevices of a disregarded heart,
And an ocean of pain flows to join the patient sea, who takes it away without so much as a word of complain.
As I walk on amongst the tides I feel desolation being sucked away,
And as misery weeps on desertion I smile on my triumph.

And as I tread alone, a pauper in a crowd
I see Him say goodbye as he moves on.
And brittle hope glows in all its gloryAs I realise I am finally free.

Monday, December 27, 2004


Muffled steps walk away,
Leaving a lacuna where a garden of hope in midst of decay grew.
I gape at my reflection in a pool of tears,
Knowing not what to do
When so many empty spaces glare accusingly,
From where hope had once lain…

Steering me with His coaxing smell,
He took me from the dark alleys of my soul,
To where the daisies bloomed on the sweet soaked earth.
As I smelled the morning air, something felt wrong,
(Then I knew I didn’t belong)
When I unthinkingly tailed Him I heard sorrow moaning in my ears,
Unfastening all my bottled up passions….
Torn between my love and my life I wandered aimlessly through the streets,
Where the sun glows, yet the righteous bleed.

And as the songs of sorrow clamour, I give in,
Following Faith yet refusing to love Him.
And on one blue night Faith lost His hope,
Clambered out of my soul without so much as a goodbye.
Leaving me a puzzle that I could never solve,
Flinging me back into my cradle of filth and burning cold…

Sunday, December 19, 2004


Snow soft warmth cascades on smouldering sadness,
Bringing out tears orphaned at birth.
I look away, unable to face my own fears,
Groping in the blackness of self-induced torture,
Crawling around for a drop of happiness.
You said I could be happy and that change would find me,
But I am as lost as ever and happiness seems more than a million tears away.
Can I cower in my corner where a world of mine is growing?
And play with the ashes of burnt dreams?
Muttering to myself about my failed attempts to fit in,
Where I am an alien like joy in the kingdom of shame.
Can I lie here in the darkness that burgeons even when the sun shines outside?
And when the birds sing their melodies can I offer my acrimonious cries?
All the formless pools of self-pity merge,
Reflecting a dead face with obsolete features rusting with age.
I pray from my ditch for redemption from this wretchedness,
But all I am proffered is tears of wounded angels and life with all its cruelness.

Tuesday, December 07, 2004


Night warrior on his greying horse,
With paper armour and a wooden sword.
Lacing his path with a strange perfume,
Of trait, betrayal, shame and pain.

Cowering in the hollow of his soul,
He closes his eyes to all that hurts him,
And imagines the yellow sun pouring on the green fields,
Where Mary plays tossing her golden hair.

The broken skulls and the cackling ghost proffer their stories begging him to listen,
And he runs with his ears covered.
Sobbing, the wind chokes him on the sick sweet smell of blood,
And the wandering souls chastise him for all the pain he caused them.

Oblivion veils him with her evanescing fingers,
His agonised screams are murdered in their cradle by the howling winds.
And as the fire of the past rises to gobble him,
He weeps to save his matchstick dreams from breaking.

Lone warrior left cold in the night.