I shouldn’t have

I shouldn’t have
Let your hands feel
The sensations under my skin
And your ears listen to my throbbing heart
When your fingers ran through me like paint brushes
As if, to you, I were a form of art.
I shouldn’t have let your tongue
Roll inside my mouth
It was a magic that worked
And got me fiercely aroused.
I shouldn’t have let my mind flow
Without resistance
And savour
The taste of your warm lips
Every time you pulled me close under the blanket
Caressed and planted the erratic kiss.
I shouldn’t have laughed and listened
To the imaginary stories of castles
That we built on floating clouds, and,
Secretly wished them to come true
I shouldn’t have looked at you in the eye
And confess that I’d fallen for you.
Rather, I should’ve crawled under my skin
And pulled myself back
For I am betrothed to the one
Whom I promised and I once loved.
I can see in people’s eye
All that we have seems very, very wrong
And now it doesn’t matter anymore
To whom my heart belongs
As my parting is certain and
There’s no looking back
I am sorry for falling weak
Cause, I really shouldn’t have.

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Colorful Jars

I have filled a part
Of our life, love and memory
In jars
Of assorted size and colours
And have hidden them somewhere
A place my memory will soon obliterate.
And one day when we start to age
Our memories turn distant and fade
When things start looking bleak
We will then play the game of hide and seek
Where we’ll search for these sundry jars
Instead of looking for new
In one another.
Our disconnected hands and soul
Will find them and open
Pouring and spilling the lost fragrance
Of fond memories captured in former time
Aged through years like the fine wine
Reminding us of youth and our undeterred love
I hope the colorful jars capture us
In a sensational time warp.


Humanity, I hope you are not dead..

There, you have your prize.
With rotten news of
Murder, rape and death.
It has music too, loud,
Can you hear the shrieking wails?
Of children dying
Of people crying
Of being in nauseating pain.
Humanity, this is your prize,
A much deserved one
For being so inhumane.

I assume you like what you see,
and hear,
For you never loathe on sight
Rather you run to the darkest nook
And camouflage to hide.
You wash your hands
Off cold, cold blood
And pretend to be insanely normal
When the sight fills with disgust.
You refuse to help when people seem to die
Instead, you stare at them
with a wintry cold eye.

Humanity, this is your prize,
For you have earned this reward,
Don’t you dare cringe or flinch
And don’t you dare rebuff.
However, we have a lingering doubt
In our forever doubtful heads
Why do you even pretend to exist?
Are you not already dead?

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What if romance dies

What if romance dies

Between you and me

Will you ever turn back and see?

What if words choke

When we meet

Will you help your thoughts

And try to speak?


In your distracted eyes

I try to find

Answers to my

floating mind

But you look away

as you smile

Repressing the truth

Like a juvenile


Seasons changed

and all turned white

colours faded

leaving nothing to excite

we were there

but we were lost

far away

in different thoughts.


‘It is time

To be free’

As we parted,

It spoke to me.

Feelings numbed

And eyes were dry

Romance between us

Finally died.

You did not try

Nor did I

None of us

Wept a parting cry

As you vanished

In the fog

Our long conversations


Like a monologue.



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She was born in the wilderness

Where people were dead

In mind and soul

And only bodily remains walked

She was the fresh wild blossom


to bloom in the dark

She was the immaculate beauty

Growing each day

She was nature’s winsome creation

Waiting to be slayed.


Oblivious to the beasts

Camouflaged with caring touch

It was too late for her to escape

Their strong lustful clutch

Gypped and preyed upon

In devilry so dense

She cried and yelled

In pain intense

As her mournful calls left all unanswered

She lay there shocked, silent, still

Bruised and battered

Sunken eyes, deprived smiles and thoughts all lost

She speechlessly waited

for her life to exhaust

Like withered flowers with petals torn

Her living corpse touched

By hands unknown.


There she was, God’s angel, an alluring work of art

Loathing her own esse

In the world so vast

Where legions of deceivers

Still lurk in shadows

Waiting to vandalize soft dreams

Budding to grow.


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