Switching chapters

The poet got stuck,
The reason? The muse.

Having read,
Her mind, her soul,
He knew,
This was the dead end,

He needs to close,
This Chapter that never was,
And explore,
Virtues worthy enough,

Progressing his story,
With genuine stuff,
For fallacies suck,
And he wont give a fuck,

What he wants,
is what he should get,

He wont buy,
Made up scenes,
Your shit is non existent,
It's business he means. 

Kill the boy

He never looked beyond her eyes,
He just never could,
He's an old school guy who believes,
In love, as one should.

I remind him of his naivity,
Given the times,
The fool that he is, he says,
In an esoteric world, he sublimes.

I pray to God for this boy,
To not subject him to his scorn,
That this  boy may be killed,
For the man to be born. 

One night

She crawled on to his bed,

In the silence of the late night,

Caressing him for a while ,

She finally embraced him tight.

The union was now complete,

Gripped by an unknown hysteria.

He finally knew the feel of hers,

This bitch called Insomnia.

When the Sun rose,

He let out a silent prayer,

May she never come to him again,

Last night be their last together ever.

A random thought

I am a thought,
Floating in nothingness,
A thought discarded,
By my own conscience.
I wait to be conceived,
And reborn,
Not in the mind this time,
Somewhere inside,
Somewhere deep inside..

A thought so fragile,
I won't survive in a world of lies,
I could pretend being an ostrich,
For the sake of good old times,
But even if I try,
Will i be able to ignore
what happens in front of my eyes!

I will act blind perhaps then,
Cause a thought never for itself decides,
But am sure, for what it is worth,
It was worth all the while.

Tonight

Two egos clash,
Both survive,

A silent death,
Dies the night.

End of story,
End of plight.

New Year

The calendar’s changed,

When will life?

Why I wonder,

Is hope still alive?

The grey inside,

Has turned black,

Of time and thoughts,

I have lost track.

Insatiable, This thirst,

Will perhaps never die,

Downing drinks all night,

I wait for time to pass by.

Experiments with love,

Show no desired result,

The ones with lust,

Failed the worst.

Consumed by our own selves,

Sucked into the void of our lives,

The good times are gone,

Only darkness thrives.

Why pretend then,

Why to greet?

Fuck the new year,

Spare me the Bull shit.

Tiring games

The tunnel is long.

A shadow,
darker than the darkness,
Walks on.

He must return,
when he encounters the end.

It is not light that he seeks.

He is looking for a spark,
A long lost one,
Which he used to harbour.

Casual attempts in the enlightened world,
All futile.

It is in these dark alleys,
it must have been buried.

Hope dissipates, with every grain of sand that drips,
But he walks on.

If he fails, love shall conquer,
the distances that were supposed to keep it alive.
Two old lovers, would become one.

Love would then choke upon itself,
And die a slow death.

Love is not meant to be realized,
It is best left to imagination.

The darkness, like a restless woman,
Schemes for the union.
Unaware of realities of the world.

He must resist temptation.
The union must be the last resort.

For the sake of love,
With different perspectives,
Both of them seek.

The darkness- a perfect scheme,
He- the spark.

The game is on.