Author Unknown

​She made myself a moon

A moon that is never nebulous

When people gaze at me

Out through their windows

Where their silent soliloquies conflate

With the October breeze

Making it sound

More meaningful than ever…

In their eyes I see

Millions of stories


To any human acquaintance…
I sit and watch 

Devoid of apathy

Into their solitary eyes…

Wondering how would I look like

In those eyes

That flare

Like pinegrass caught flame…

They never knew

There is a silent companion

Out there

Whom they can trust

With their secrets…

Yet I shine brighter

When a smile creeps 

Through the corners of their lips..

I ask myself

Did they see it?

The sudden amplification 

In my glow?

Did they feel I am alive

That I am not a passive listener?

Who gave birth to me?

I sit and think..

What the secret of my origin is

Who is my creator? 

Why is she hiding from me?

The one who painted

The complexion of my soul

Which sees deeper

Into their veiled psyches…

Who is the author

Of the poetry

Which dwells in their lonesome hearts?

I wish

They discover answers

From my words…

But how would I discover my creator

Who left me unanswered?

The Hall of Mirrors

​The memories kept coming back….

That day…

When my own insecurities 

Walked me towards the hall of mirrors…

I expected to get the closure I needed

But the uncertanity

Whether it’s a gentle wind

Or a whirling storm

Was lurking within…

I stepped inside….

Those reflections

All belonging to me

Stared at me in unison

Each in different realms…

The first one…

Was miserable

For she was a mortal

The second one…

I could hear her heartbeat

Which was beating

In sync with the pulse

Of not herself

But others….

There was another one…

Who had almost drowned


In the ocean of temptations..

The next one…

Was a murderess

She had just killed 

The one she used to be..

Blood was dripping 

From the dagger

Which she held loosely..

Her eyes were filled

With desperation and regret

At a distance

There was another….

Deeply engaged 

In a tearful prayer on a moonlit carpet..

Her patience had been subjected

To test by him…

But still she prayed…

These reflections 

Untangled slowly

The intricacies in my self..
I wanted to get out of this place

Very badly

But I had to wait

Untill I wake up 

Untill the rays of morning glory

Touches me with its warmth..

First I thought

I ended up getting the worse

In the hall of mirrors…

But I’ve found the refuge…

The refuge of my soul

The answers for my qustions

Which were unanswered 

All these days…

I sat in silence 

At a corner

Longing for the dream 

To be over…..

The Lavish Rose

​When the gentle breeze

Is your only companion..

When you only know

Your heart’s true yearnings…

When you need

No witness….

Than your own self….

When the dread

Of those woeful nights…

No more dwells

In your soul…

When the comfort

Of being alone

Is felt…

A slave, you’re not

To your emotions..


The happiness…

Is chosen

Over suffering…

You cross over

And indulge yourself

In the ocean

Of your imagination…
Let them…

Let them perceive it…

As introversion

As liberalism

Or may be

As irrationalism…


You move on…

As deep within

You know

That you aren’t….

That you aren’t a shrinking violet


A lavish rose…

That you posses something….


That most humans withhold: Balance.