Lust and love ( edited version)

**Lusty lies, beautiful smiles**

You’d find an abode in those tempestuous eyes,
those oh so perfect smiles, everything they do just seems so vague yet perfectly fine,

Some call it that wish for which they often prayed,
Oh! Look my wish was granted away.
I found the one, my happy place.

But for some pessimists like me,
Lust works like the poison that freezes the tarantula away,
Have you heard about that naive wasp that preys on those gloomy tarantulas by the bay?
This gloomy spider means it no harm, it runs away from the shadow of wasp,
But the wasp has her eyes fixed on its prey,
Her poisonous sting, paralyzes the spider away,
It cant think, nor move, it’s the wasp’s personal play.

Lust works on similar ways,
You’re paralyzed by their beauty and their face,
By their expressive eyes, their notorious self,
They are so brilliant in everything they do,
How could a person relaxing in his pajamas and unmade hair look so cute?

Being with them would make you forget everything else in life,
You’d read articles related to them talk to your friends and ask them for their views,
Take his side and convince your friends too,
You’d slowly start adapting his ways, so quick,
You’d expect the same energy from him too.

Every time you’d meet him,you would observe him a bit more closely,
The way he talks so calmly, the way he folds his arms together and gently frowns, the way he runs his fingers alongside his hair,
The way his hazel eyes shine with glee,
His peculiar beard trimmed in 90’s style.

His presence would make your day,
you’d ache to be in his arms
and wish to kiss him once again, you’d plan your next meet,
the things you’d say,
the dress you’d wear, the way you’d make your hair,
his favourite color would be yours too,everything should be perfect, for our adonis is just that way.

You’d fnd different ways to text him
(or accidentally text him? :p)
send him memes, flood him with questions new,
would expect his attention right away,
what if he forgets to text you day? Was he busy? Is he seeing someone new?
Let’s watch his story on Instagram or maybe snapchat today??

Poem 54#

Why do we scream in silence

But stay mum during turbulent days,

Smile during thunders,

But cry alongside those rains,

Why do we lock everything up in our concrete jail,

But wish to be free from our own chains,

Why do we run away,

From our shadow and that blurry face

From those violent winds and those unsettled waves,

But in our gloomy world, we often stay?

Poem 53#

Does your heart ever beat aloud, when my name pops on your screen?

Does your face heat up, or do your lips start to smile?

Do you ever look up at the sky and gaze at the moon sometimes?

Remember our previous conversations and way you hugged me, tight?

Do my thoughts ever cross your mind,

Whenever you’re busy at work, trying to study, or sleep at night?

Do you even remember the words you said before you first kissed me,

Or way you smiled so bright?


I wouldn’t know, anymore.

But,

I do know you’re searching for a girl who’d fit into your world.

Who is different than the others, you’ve met,
Someone who adds value to your life, understands you.
Doesnt expect you to be perfect,
Rather, accepts your various hues.

Doesn’t give up on you, when you push her aside,
Who keeps texting you, even though you hardly reply,
Who is always loyal to you, honest and never lies.

You’re a man of few words,
You pretend to listen and hardly reply,
But expect others to listen to you,
but do you comply?

You welcome people, but never let them in,
You know their secrets, hardly share your worries, at times lie.
When confronted, you dive in your cave, you sigh.

You overthink, overanalyze, but keep mum, in your agony, you die.
But tell others that overthinking isn’t right

You have peculiar moods, one in which you wish to be left alone,
One in which you’re no longer the gloomy soul, you’re cheerful,
full of life,
Alas it doesn’t last that while,
And finally the one,in which, your mood, monosyllables provide.


But there’s this void, this tiny black hole,

That exists within you, in your heart,

That is masked by your smile,

One that I can see in your eyes.

What if it forever resides?

Poem 52#

He’s here, but he’s truly not,

I don’t recognize him,

In fact I never have and never will,

He babbles and abuses too,

His eyes, don’t see what we see,

It sees a world that keeps opressing him,

His mouth becomes a flame of lies,

Of pain and hurt,

betrayal and crimes,

His past surfaces in and he becomes the same old boy

With khaki shorts and torn shirt,

With worn chappals and lost eyes

Who’s father beat him, to hide his lies,

To hide his affair with the woman he loved,

Who wasn’t his wife.

It all comes back to him, at times in episodes too.

He remembers the time his purple hand was beaten black,

The times his father thrashed him

Left him away and ignored his plight.

But oh he forgets the time he left us away,

Instead,

Says I am a burden,

And my siblings are no longer his children too.

He slurrs and slips,

Fumbles on his own failures, oh he falls.

And when his tired eyes and calloused feet hurt a lot,

He crashes his stout body on the defeated old bed,

Mumbbles a “I hate you, you’re no longer my child’

And goes back to sleep, soundly, every night.


Poem 50#

She remembers crying late that night
Praying for dad, searching for him among the gloomy skies.
Her mother handling her a tiny gas lamp,
Empty it felt, weak it was, to survive the night.

Yet she waited for him silently,
Her stomach beseeched her dad,
He had promised her, they’d both eat dinner together,
Then he’d read the Princess and the knight.

She protected that perishing light,
Kept praying to the God unknown,
With weak words and trembling hands.
Just please let daddy be all right’.

And oh, he was all right,
he bought the frigid winds alongside,
Entered abode and gusted in,

Her dying light, fell right into her sight.

But did he care?

She asks herself the same thing, every night.

Poem 47#


I end up sitting by my window grill tonight,
Listening to the silence of the night.
The owls trill and warble a sad melody.
I look over my own shoulders,
Down my hand, they wish to hold the droplets that fall,
Alas, my loose wrist fail to hold them, they all fall to the timid ground.


I stare at my own shadow,
Rusting under the neon moon light
Feel the melancholy of the glum leaves,
They persuade me that they are free.
Yet fear the loathe of the rusty wind.

The unattended concrete road, shines under the street light,
Yellow gold, lit like the sun,
Yet no one lurks around this street.
Apart from the unruly dogs,
That break into a furious gallop to chase the ghosts and the cars.
The clock by the wall,tells me to hasten my pace,
For it’s almost midnight now.
Every normal being must be asleep,

With cold feet I reach my bed,
I lie awake where darkness lurks.
The monster under my bed,
Sleeps soundly, as though hypnotized.
But leaves me alone,

As it opens,

The Pandora box tonight.