It is a beautiful thing – Writing without inhibition. That raw and unfiltered flow of emotions just pouring out on paper, like children out on the streets, chasing an ice-cream truck, on the first day of summer.

The whole idea that you can express and define your innermost emotions, buried deep some place unreachable by most, in words, gives you that control you need to get back up. It helps you vent out and picture things in a way YOU want it to be instead of what the world paints for you to see.

In my opinion, that is what is the most beautiful writing because, unlike your soul, it is naked, without the robes of skin and bones to distract you from seeing the vulnerability of the truth.


Photo Source:

Every face will disappear and every spirit will fade into the sun. The days will melt away into hours and the hours will vaporize into seconds, right before our eyes, beneath the clear blue sky. The fire of freedom will crackle at our feet and we will dance around it like proud centaurs – victorious in our battle against life.

If I Could


Photo Source:

If I could tear this skin apart and break free
If I could jump off the ledge and escape
If I could howl into the darkness
I would; for love calls my name

If I could find my wings and spread them wide
If I could feel the wind kiss my face when I fly
If I could wander off into the open sky
I would; for freedom calls my name

If I could run away and never look back
If I could forget time and lose all track
If I could wake up to a new sunrise
I would; for life calls my name

The Two-Wheeled Stallion


Photo Source:

If you have never, then you must, sit behind a motorcycle, the two-wheeled stallion, striding majestically through the urban jungle, a symbol of boundless strength. You must close your eyes and experience the cool evening breeze rush wildly through your hair as the rain dances on your face. You must let the world speed past you, and let go of all your inhibitions . You must let your senses take control. You must listen closely to the sound of the passing vehicles which sound exactly like waves crashing onto the shore and retreating back. In those precious thirty seconds, before the cacophonic horns bring you back to the reality of your situation, you would have felt what it is like to be truly free.

Be The Change


Photo Source:

In this world cloaked in darkness, let there be light
In the skies of freedom, let us take this flight
In this battle against tyranny, together let us fight
In the hearts of the young, this fire let us ignite
Let us stand together, hold our hands and march
Let us dream a world of hope, let us keep a watch
Let us free the little birds of dreams from their cage
Let us be the guide, let us be the change



Photo Source:

We are at  war.
A war with ourselves,
A war with the world
A war with the almighty
To see our faiths unfurled
A war without a beginning,
A war without an end
A war without a reason
A war without amends
A war for religion
A war for race
A war with the universe
A war to find our place
We are at war.
A war with the living
A war with the dead
A war over water
A war over bread
A war for blood
A war for scars
A war for peace
A war for wars
A war with nature
A war with men
A war to survive
Just to die again
We are at

I am a Poet and This is My Story


Photo Source:

I am a poet and this is my story

An essence of existence;
a silent observer of the night
A shadow that flickers in the dark,
fleetingly imitating life

Ephemeral in presence,
I write my story tonight,
before fading away, silently,
Into a world filled with light

I am a poet and this is my story

I am you, I am them,
and still, I am I
A memory, a thought;
Subconscious of form,
As dreamt by  your mind

I am right,I am wrong;
a dreamer, a lover;
melancholy and forlorn;
damaged and torn
I am hope;  a believer

I am this, I am that;
An ideal, an idol
a reflection of perception,
a by-product of creation
I am invisible.

I am a poet and this is my story

Words are my enemy,
they are my friend,
my strength, my weakness
they help me comprehend

They are my feelings,
they are my thoughts
insignificant, inconsequential
They are all I’ve got

They break me , they make me,
bring it together, bring it all down
They are my voice, my silence,
my strength, when no one’s around

I am a poet and this is my story

I write for sorrow, I write for pain
I write to express, I write to paint,
I write to listen, I write to explain
I write to live with no refrain

I write for you ,I write for me,
I write for the rocks, I write for the trees
I write for the sky, I write for the breeze
I write for this world,
because I want to be free.

 I am a poet and this is my story

Thank You

Thank you!

Photo Source :

Thank You, Friends
Thank you for the love you’ve shown,
Thank you for the reads
Thank you for this place,
I can call my own

I had been lost,
With no voice to communicate
I had suffocated,
Too long has been the wait

Thank You, Friends
Thank you for listening without a doubt
Thank you for writing to me back
Thank you for the kind words,
Through which you’ve reached out

Finally they have found a voice,
My suppressed train of thoughts
Waiting to be set free,
Waiting to be heard

Thank you, Friends
Thank you for your unconditional support
Have I thanked you enough,
I think not,
So, I thank you again,
From the bottom of my heart


This poem is dedicated to all who have liked my poems and writings. To the lovely people who have shared and appreciated them. A couple of weeks ago when I started this blog, I was a stranger in a stranger world. But now I feel like home and for that I Thank You. 🙂

Dear Friend Marley


Photo Source:

Marley my friend,
You sing of life as we wish to live
You speak of love as we wish to have
You speak of freedom as we wish to taste
Not a moment in this life to waste

Dear friend Marley,
I hear you sing out of the radio,
I listen to you, sitting beneath the summer sun
A bud in my hand and poetry on my mind
I would have helped you sing
But I don’t know the words to this song

Marley my friend,
The more I listen to you the more you make sense
My tipsy mind questions my existence
Have I lived or merely existed
Have I lived it well or did I have it wasted?

Dear friend Marley
It’s time to go home now,
Go back to the life I had paused for a while
Will you come with me today
Or will you be gone for a while??

I am afraid I’ll lose you there,
I’m afraid you’ll never come back
I wish to talk to you soon
I wish to find you again in this lifetime

So I guess this is goodbye then,
until meet again,
I hope to find you well, my dear friend
You have shown me the way
You have shown me the life
and how to live it each day
I hope I’ll remember the words
The next time we meet
In this lifetime or may be the next.