The Ghost – NaPoWriMo 2015: Day 23

And then the words

stopped flowing

As the conscious mind

took over the sub-conscious,

Leaving behind

an empty casket

buried in the graveyard

just beyond the wall

that separates

sanity from insanity,

humility from vanity, and

dreams from reality.

In the middle of it all

the headstone stands alone

Singing an elegy

written by a ghost

who vanished in the fog

Leaving behind

bits and pieces of his soul

that no one in this life

will find.


A Fading Planet – NaPoWriMo 2015: Day – 22

I have seen a canvas
that invisible hands
had once filled with
the bluest of blues,
Now covered in hues
of red and grey
While the greens
have been erased,
By the billions
who’ve forgotten
what it takes
to recreate
the masterpiece
that was once
gifted to them
to nurture and protect.

Beginning Of The End – NaPoWriMo 2015: Day – 20

What do you do?

When all you can do

Is wait;

Anxious and restless

As time plays

its game

Like a serial killer

Before it slays

its victims

In slow motion

You pray

for the end to

Embrace you


It’ll liberate you

And take you

To a place where

There is no space

For the minutes

To fill in the days

As the last drops of blood

flows out of your veins

And you’re left with

What you had craved for

In the first place –

A beginning

to your end.

Daughter – NaPoWriMo 2015: Day 18

She was born
with an illusion of choice
gifted to her
by generations
of traditions
poisoned by time,
and preserved by
the ignorant minds
who claimed to have
her best interest at heart

Locked up in the tower
of her age she was
the Rapunzel,
whose youth was an investment
that would yield,
a treasure so precious
that it would corrupt
the minds of those
who had sworn
to defend her,
and keep her freedom safe

The purpose of her life
was dictated by
the dreams of those
whose senses
were blinded by
hypocritical alibis,
and actions guided by
their misplaced egos

She was sold
in the end, to a life
decided by those
who had
tears on their faces
and smiles in their eyes
as she bid goodbye
holding on to her
Illusion of choice.

Question – NaPoWriMo 2015: Day 17

He was asked –
Why do you do the things you do?
Why do you write?
Why do you fight
every single day with your inner-self
and then,
How do you sleep at night?
Don’t they scare you?
The thoughts in your head
Don’t they whisper?
Don’t they pick on your fears,
When you can’t fight
and then,
feed on the wrath inside?
Don’t they scream in your ears
when you try to meditate?
Don’t they leave you
blind sided at times?
Don’t they light up your world on fire
and then,
Leave you stranded in the desert
when there’s no water in sight?
Do they know you are there?
Do they know you’re alive?
Do they know that you hold the power
to shut them forever,
or let them live to see the light?

The Circle Of Life – NaPoWriMo 2015: Day 16

What was once
a playful respite
for the thoughts of
an innocent child
now lies
barren and parched
begging the sky
for mercy

What was once
an exploding volcano
for the spirit of
a rebellious youth
now rests
tired and defeated
begging time
for mercy

What was once
a deep ocean
for the intellect of
a wrinkled sage
now sleeps
wise but impatient
begging life
for mercy

The Weight Of Weightlessness – NaPoWriMo 2015: Day 15

In the absence of a will to fly
She let them cut her wings
and replace them with
prosthetics made of
paper and straw
that threatened to burn
every time she stepped
out in the sun

But the moonlit wind
was kind to her
With its gentle touch
tried to lift her up
But the paper wings
like all fragile things
would break each time
and refused to carry the weight
of her weightlessness