How do I find you our nature’s song In the din that man has created? Chirrups are clouded by whirring fans, Muffled by burring engines. Rustling leaves have a fever today, Sea is mourning a demise, Rivers no longer gush Without fishes to rush to
I have wrapped a band-aid all over my body, Coz it hurts everywhere, But I don’t heal like people often do. I carry my pain like a parched woman Carrying a pot of water Miles for her children In a deserted land. I don’t know
Is that you? Or just your wish, I can’t see past the thick layer of dust Behind which you stay hidden, Don’t you love yourself? Coz I do, Like every painting of my impeccable creator, You have been gently brushed with the finest skins And
Printed stories on my body, I know I become something When I am read, I erupt in words And read someone else’s misery. I stink, But ask a lover How to smell, They leaf through me To find secrets from their hell. Few know I too
I am seething, Flaming in this impossible heat, Thinking what did I do to deserve this, What loathsome act did I commit To seal such a painful fate? Or was it just a matter of choice That plucked out known faces, Impelled me towards cold
Woke up one day To find me dead; It didn’t make a difference. I climbed out my bed, And walked a mile To find no one, But were they ever there? Not a soul lurked, Not a car stirred, The traffic of dopey minds Was
Where does all my verve go When I am already on a journey? Why does it not carry in me? The zeal to be riding a new horse, All along the bumps and humps Thrown my way; That’s how every life has been paved. Why
Walking in, Walking out Of their wretched lives, People are crowd Who don’t stand out; They hum the same song, And shoehorn all along, Till they feel safe amongst each other, And don’t bother About anyone’s radar, Not even for a man, Who sits quietly
Ain’t afraid now Of challenges on my road, I pick them like I pick fallen berries in the woods, Or people who have lost interest In their every day, For it all sounds the same, The quiet makes them sleepy And they think now, Maybe
I am slaving away, Paving a way, For someone I wouldn’t recognize, When I am no longer left. These bits that make me Aren’t for a future I feel, But to sate my obstinacy, For everything I am about Is to become everyone, In one