Flooded Planes

At times shining bright

Spreading light and warmth

Upon minds around and self.

People stretching themselves

For a bit of warmth

In the cold cells of life.

Change comes fast and sleek

Billowy clouds appear soon;

Few look up to ask

"What's happened now"?

Days pass with the clouds swirling

Concerned faces expecting drizzle.

Then comes the lashing rain

burning holes on ground and cloud.

But the rain fell on flooded planes,

Apprehensive looks paining me;

A question I ask myself-

"Would flooded grounds ever love rain"?

Mood Swing

Sometimes,some lucky or unlucky days this mood returns.The time when everything feels unreal except the burning sensation inside.Anger at something that existed or how things used to be.Memories of things that I  don't remember watching or doing coming back!

The slightest touch or even a strong breath will break the string connecting both the existence.The most beautiful feeling flows through you when the line stretches too thin that it threatens to break.Coming back is difficult and everything reverses itself.People who once seemed to be great comfort seems to irritate you the most.The thing that is forgotten is that change happens only to one person in a fall,well mostly.All of a sudden everything that you did to make you feel at peace when everything was connected,comes back as terrible mistakes.A great feeling of repentance...but whom will you apologise to?To yourself?To others who laughed while your heart was being torn apart?

Sleep seems to be a distant dream.Everything that you wanted to be,lay abandoned like a heap of municipality waste that even the authorities refuse to take care of.Thoughts of a new sunrise when the world will turn back again.I don't even know what to hope for!!

Recollection

As i look back i can't recollect the happy times.But there were days when i sat and cried,all alone.Nobody to wipe the tears,nobody to hug and say "everything will be all right" and nobody to say "I UNDERSTAND".

I searched the whole mountainous waste of life for something that would comfort me.While lying among the litter,somebody threw things at me.I cursed out loud but kicked among the trash for something to feed my heart.Then i saw something glittering among the ignored.I brushed the dirt of it and made it shine bright.Day and night i admired its beauty.I couldn't take my eyes off,slowly i couldn't make out between "my precious" and my soul.I could hear it reading out to my soul.

Then I went for a walk.Slowly the scene around me changed,i travelled through alleys and streets unknown.Yet i cradled the twisted can close to my heart.I could hear loud sneers aimed at me,it was sad that they didn't even care about my feelings.i carried on with the only comfort i felt from the cold metal can against my skin.I often found myself at dead ends and at times cornered by bullies.I was beaten up but with each wound I was being carved into better shapes.Some trash cans that you kick about may be valuable.

Bankrupt

Maybe I've turned into a lesser being
with my soul sold to someone,
declared too bankrupt to regain it.
If i ask for it to be returned
and then went wrong in thought
the loss will be forever.

Battle

From childhood i heard
stories of heroes
who won over foes.
For glory was great
my kin urged me too
wanted my name
in history,they said.
Tearful eyes of mother
send me to the battle,
on the way did i meet
a veteran hero,said he
"Stand your ground".
Strengthened by will
prepared to face an army
thought i'll conquer many.

Battlefields in books
told of greater glory,
but none said
they were so gory.
Several masked faces
guarded left and right,
in falsified security
i abandoned my alert.
Heavy blows on sides
taught me better.

I wandered the tall trees
ears cocked at hostile steps
i swung my blade
only to get badly blocked.
Out of the shadows
emerged a prince with halo,
a feeling deep inside
"this blade matches mine".
By unspoken consent
we raided the woods
one guarding other's back.
Together we thrust blades
right through other hearts
and cried in delight
as our blades turned red.

At an unknown clearing
while we fought five foes
swords clashing in din
unfamiliar helpers ran in.
But the prince grew on them,
obsessed with power
they pulled him out safe.
Profited at my unarmoured back
a blue blade slashed open it
and amidst my cries
did they ride away.
History did not look my way
but mystery would vouch for me.

Agony

As a ghost of the past

reflected in the moonlight,

the skeleton i dug up

lay eerie in the courtyard.

The relics of once a being

a king without crown.

With stares did people watch

the star that rose to sky,

to outshine sun,the mighty one

made a dwarf,its light undone.

Kneeling slaves always swear,

the master's eyes unblinking ones.

As they came did riches go

leprosy did make its feed,

like a black hole is to shiny star.

Fleshy tights did rot away and

like a child i could only watch.

This state of things is agony

but am i sane to feel the pain?

Bleeding!!

An obsession to the past has made a cocoon around me which i'm trying to break with all my might.As i pause for each breath of fresh air it reforms around me.The harder i bleed,the walls get fortified with my blood.I will try not to breathe but how can i tend to the wounds?How can i stop bleeding?