It's time for rest, Stop son, stop son. There's no need to run, son. Sun has come up And lightening every dark land And navigating the man at the gorge's bends. Destiny has come now. Struggling days came

My mind can't be at rest. Thinking is what I can do best. I think a lot. But, I don't try to stop, it's the feeling of zest. My thoughts always bloat. Sometimes, I see, there's a cot in a plot, Covered

On the pitch black blanket, I see twinking diamonds. Some are like orbs, some have pointy shape. Some are glittery, some hides behind the vape. I try to count them, But there are infinite of them. I try

I Lost in the ocean. There are no people to be seen And here, no one had ever been. With no food, no water, floating on the ocean skin, Waiting for help or Grim-Reaper's grin And thinking about my sins.

Photo by Suliman Sallehi from Pexels She tells me something. Something that I can't understand. Something that I can't relate to. But my instinct says that there is something Or was something that flushed

It happens always Few stops it, Few enjoy it. But it still exists And it happens always. Partiality. Racism. Castism. Gender discrimination. It all exists, And celebrated like rituals. Rituals that swallows

I threaten myself for not to write. I threaten like cutting the string of a flying kite Or jumping into the pit during a bullfight. Am I doing right? When thoughts come, like, what it feels like to be

Loneliness sounds like Everyone is moving and I'm still. I can't do anything and I never will. And to make me feel something, I should take a drug pill. It's easy to regret And to become a threat To the

Fluffy clouds up in the sky, They are emotional, don't ask me why? They laugh, they play Like kids with the clay. They roar, they cry They show tears, they aren't shy. They also smile In bright-colours

Toy of Flesh pulled out of an angel’s womb. He is spreading joy, while covered in grume. He drinks milk, from his mother’s breast. He says his first word, to make everyone feel the zest. He plays in the

The day ends. When the sun descends. When the earth bends. When the darkness mends. Some say it’s the time for Fiends. But it depends. For some, love ascends. For some, fear stands. For some, hell lands.

Sometimes I think, What if a baby will be born, and I will not tell him his religion. Will he find out? Will he ever find out that he may be a Christian, Hindu, Muslim, Jain, Buddhist or whatever? What

Setting Sun shines silently. Freezing-Wind flows fiercely. White vape vanishes. Saturnine smoke seduces sky. Is it a warning of coming disaster Or invitation of the night. Is it the happening of magic

It's now the no man's land. It's the place where I stand. There's no human, no animal, no bird No life, only fear, which can't end. Here once said those words, Which can't be unheard. "Evacuate the

I don’t know what happened to me. I just lost myself, I lost my identity. And I don’t know where to find it. I get angry at every comment on me. I thought people don’t like me. So, I change myself like

In that haunting Dark night, I saw a light, Sparkling, I went close, It fades away. In that dull morning gloom, I saw a flower bloom, Glittering, I went close, It shrivels in the clay. I was a baby, wanted

It's a shell Or can be called society's hell. Where I live And whose walls I repel. There are some rules, Which maintains by unknown fools. Telling us what to do and what not to, Whom to marry and whom