Month: December 2023

The phase of Earth, when we think, the Sun goes far,
The chilling winds cover the precious hours,
The beauty of white is seen in the midst,
Of the phase when the Sun goes far.

When the dinings are embroidered with soups,
Insects are on a hiatus too,
When people wear their colourful scarfs,
It is the phase when the Sun goes far.

The days are short and the nights get long,
The children roam with hot chocolate mugs,
When Christmas Carols are on guitar,
It is the phase when the sun goes far.

It starts from Diwali, decorations at peak,
Goes through Christmas, where trees are adorned with stars,
When it is the period of darkness and cold,
It is the phase of earth, when we think, the Sun goes far.
Or does it really go far?

Slant down the snowy sward,
Binya ran forward,
Calling the names of the beaut cattle,
while her intellect was unsettled.

Three strangers sitting fit,
beyond the meadows of snowy wit.
Dumbfounded by the smiling beauty,
actually it’s just a silly blue parasol of great money.

The parasol was blue, silky and dainty,
there stood Binya giving them her lucky claw in the sunny.
In turn she got the parasol that she fancy,
She came anon to a shop to buy toffee with her only penny.

The owner of the shop, was an old man who worked sometime,
his name was Ram Bharosa and he belonged to the bygone time.
The old man got enticed to the silly thing,
its presence made him feel like the king.

He appointed Rajaram to carry out the task.
Rajaram seized the priceless entity.
And started running, only relying on destiny,
as speed was his only ask.

But Bijju, her brother, caught up to the run.
Rajaram had might, but Bijju still won.
When the villagers got to know,
Ram Bharosa sat in his shop gazing the meadow.

Looking at his pathetic plight,
Binya came to his shop with all her might.
Leaving the parasol there inside.
for the old man to find.

Ram Bharosa rushed outside,
to return the parasol for he decide.
In that moment alone,
it belonged to both of them as shown.

Sunrise
It’s time for sunrise.
Time to go to bed, my owl so wise.
The ball of fire rising from the east
providing sunflowers with their favorite feast.
I want to fill my eyes with the sun peeking up the horizon
before my age will wisen.
The sphere, billions of years old,
still shines like a liquid hot pot of gold.
Brightly shining sun rays
foolishly I try to gaze.
Sadly, it’s just a small phase.
It’s time for sunrise.
Time to go to bed, my owl so wise,
my owl so wise.

Trust
Even your own shadow leaves you in the dark.
Even the fire lets go a spark.
It’s hard to gain.
Gives you and me a lot of pain
I might be going insane
About the amount of energy it will drain.
Who is going to quench my trust thirst?
Cuts and scars make me feel cursed.
It’s so hard to get and give
The sob story I am going to live.
My heart got stomped on and broke
It hurt me but I never spoke.
So remember even your own shadow leaves you in the dark,
Even the fire lets go a spark.

Boon or a Bane?
Was it all a boon or a bane?
Were we in the same vein?
Did we undergo the same pain?
When all was clustered and twisted,
When all my time was wasted,
I stood and remained subsisted.
In this dark time,
Is standing up for myself such a crime?
The truth is hidden by a lie,
The truth is hidden by a sly.
No wonder, you wonder why;
Wouldn’t repairing a bond I broke against my will,
Two received sorrow, one received thrill.
But karma will hand them over a bill, hand them over a bill.
Was it all a Boon or a Bane?

Music
The best way to hypnotize your ears,
when you don’t care about what anyone hears.
For you, it’s maybe just a bunch of notes and keys,
but for me, it’s a cup of hot coffee in the breeze.

Without music, the world would be a queer pantomime.
In my opinion, it seems to be a crime.
From pop to rap,
without missing a beat or a gap,
it’s a medicine for you to relieve and relax.
Trust me as I speak the facts.

The pyres of agony, they ignite a roaring fire with their blaring screams in the roots of my crestfallen heart
My astray soul seeks the shelter of a distraught piece of thought
My eyes, lined with a downcast aura of pitch tenebrosity
But even when I stand meters away from the brink of obliteration,
My pumping heartbeats dance to a rhythm of boundless zest.

Gently, like a mother cradling her baby to sleep,
They caress the stems of my restless mind and friskily whisper the secret to a beautiful life.
Bloom, they say, bloom like the rose that stands upright even after a deplorable storm.
Nurture the youthful sapling of your mind with a colossal plethora of hope.
For it is hope that applauds every essence of one’s existence
And motivates every sense of a depressed cognizance.
Effortlessly showering every inch of a disturbed heart with delicate petals of provocation,
Serving as the aim to live a life adorned with thorns.

For even when fortune abandons you to drown in the unfathomable oceans of misery and melancholy,
Accompanied by a state of nothing but the suffocating weight of sheer disenchantment on your shoulders
Hope drives you on the road of pursuing your dreams
The same dreams crumpled under the spell of wretched circumstances

The same dreams, ruthlessly burnt in the pyres of agony.

Yes, they will judge,
Coz there’s nothing they can do to be judged for
Yes, they will criticize
Coz they’ve got nothing better to do
Yes, they will hurt
Coz that’s what broken people do
Yes, they will destroy
Coz they are inhuman
Yes, they will tease
Coz they are used to being useless
But only a few will compliment,
Coz they really care
Only a few will trust,
Coz they know you’re worth it
Only a few will stay,
Coz they respect valued people
Only a few will advise,
Coz they want you to be happy
Only a few will stand up for you
Coz they don’t want to hurt you
Only a few will love,
Coz they know what you deserve

Back into trenches,
Back to the void;
Fought and screeched and screamed to flee,
Only to be dragged back into its way.

The reminiscing horrors of death,
The agony at heart;
Leave me, oh dear, leave me
For I yearn to stay;

Let us thrive,
For once, let me survive;

I beg thee, to let our
Eyes meet orb’s floret,
and
Ears meet bird’s croon,
let us,
Possess a shard of hope,
And
Longer see the Sol;
I beg thee to let ‘em grow,
Not banish all fancies of the little grown.

I beg and I beg,
Let the mothers embrace their sons longer
Let wives hug their love longer and
Let the child feel the yearned clasp longer.

For once just forget the treachery,
forget the blood,
and
forget the battlefield
For once see the innocence,
See in their eyes, the love and tear;
I beg thee to cease.
No more war please.

No tears,
No corpses;
No more,
I beg thee, no more

I beg thee,
Anything in the world shall thou do,
But wage carnage;
Just to leave ages in ravage.

In London town where shadows dance,
A blitz unfolds, a daring chance.
Beneath the moon, in wartime’s might,
Courage blooms in the darkest night.

Above the city, metal wings unfurl,
Thundering engines, a menacing swirl.
Silver birds, with purpose profound,
Roar through the night, a deafening sound.

The sirens wail, a haunting cry,
Yet brave hearts soar, determined sky.
In alleyways, beneath cobblestone,
Heroes rise, their valor known.

Through smoke and fire, they boldly tread,
In the blitz’s chaos, where fear is shed.
With buckets of courage, they stand tall,
Resistant spirits, risking all.

The skyline ablaze, a fiery sea,
Yet resilience roars, wild and free.
In London’s heart, the blitz may rage,
But courage writes a different page.