..

felt like that when i was a teenager
turned myself to a star-gazer
now a bit matured..a bit stronger..
still i stay with the stars a bit longer...

..

thorns remain, roses come and go.

........

you r the one
who makes my heart beat
you r the one
who makes it hard to breathe...

no matter how much i dream
it's still the same
pretending not to kno u
when they call your name
tell me girl..
how many hearts u've broken

those simple words that said so much
that u missed me and to keep in touch
were all just words u said to yo frens
tell me girl..
how many hearts u've broken again...

girl you make the mountains sway
my heart is just a feather
still I m feeling blue
in this sunny weather..

coz no matter how much I dream
it’s still the same
pretending not to kno u
when they call your name
tell me girl..
how many hearts u’ve..

HEART FRACTURE

this feeling like when u don't breathe for a while
but u still somehow manage to smile
virtual happiness fades in slow
dreams lost between pillow
that spark when she spoke to you
the same old world but the feelings so new
blooming roses in autumn deserts
beating hearts in morning dew
that feeling like when u don't breathe for a while
but still u cant stop to smile

those simple words that made your day
painted blood for hearts of clay
soft smiles to set your free
sweeter than the shade of tree
all but now a dust in vision
the same old world creating illusion
dying air from ocean waves
breaking hearts in spring season
this feeling like when u don't breathe for a while
but u still somehow manage to smile

blue skies that wind and rain
silly smiles to cover up yo pain
crowded laughter slowly fades
silence like the winter blades
that feeling when sun brushed her face
garden lily swayed in her grace
night stars from mountain top
falling down in warm embrace
that feeling like when u cant breathe for a while
but now a past to look back and smile..

..............

a damsel here and cloudy sky.......she sits there waiting for someone... i stand here lost in her reverie..... a bike comes and she goes with someone.

Gloomy February

as i walk up the roof
in gloomy February
sun settled down aloof
sinking beneath prairie

i tilt to gaze where glitters seam
in grazing crispy zephyr
i stretch to catch the astral beam
bracing dusts in dither

slowly clouds crawl to glow
a film of silver lining
i then weave a dreamy show
in warm cimmerian's shining

i stare at dappled inky sky
whiling away in wishes
they all wink at me as i shy
twinkling moonlit kisses

a crescent smile lifts up my face
i dream about that fairy
soft sonant, tranquil grace
in gloomy February

JUST WRITE (for post platform)

It's 4 a.m. here and i just switched off my computer. For so long I've been reading blogs and trying to generate a unique style of writing. But novelty doesn't find me. Writing has never been a favorite time-pass. it hated me while in school. There would be no caressing of inked nib onto these foils of paper except for assignments. But now I'm off grade 12 and yet, still I've failed to create an unusual pattern in an article.The only times I wrote serious essays was for TOEFL and SAT. The idea to begin with a wholly extreme design and intensive vocabulary has been the sole reason for my panicking, which in turn won me a blank topic for no writing at all. But now I'm doing it. I've built up my words capacity and sentence structuring. And writing will be a cove where effing and blinding echoes as a mild eruption of my distraughtness. IF YOU HATE ME, YOU SUCK. The incoherent ravings of my poltergeist will now disorient your mental bearing and haunt you until you rest your volatile thoughts plastered in ink.

I've never had a passion for writing, but creating a piece that is passionate. It was just a jabbing of metallic wonder into suction paper until higher level education required me to explore my psyche via this. And i want to share this boring experience with you all. Boring because everything that helps you is always branded as boring. So, boring it is! You also pour your thoughts into these sheets of paper. It will reflect you, help you preen your individuality. It will help you get away from innocent ignorance if you just allow them to get rid of you. Dole out the angst in you, let the explosion in you draw itself in ink. Swear and curse everything that detests you and nothing that you detest. A fair manifestation of your thoughts into a readable art is always therapeutic. A little rupture every now and then, you shall realize, is much better than imploding yourself into 'good for nothing'. Let not the failure of creating your 'signature move' disappoint you, or impend you from doing what seems impossible. 'JUST DO IT' - Nike. Write and write until you are good enough to express yourself truthfully. And then write again because it's much rewarding time-pass. I wouldn't care if this article doesn't get pasted in a National Daily, because I would still be writing. Would you?