Truth is, the mistake is ours.
Craved to touch the moon,
Asked for the skies on ground,
Desired to grow flowers on rocks,
Seeked for fragrance in quills,
Longed that fire will provide cool,
Searched the snow for warmth,
Dreams that we saw, wanted to be true,
For this, penalty was due.
Truth is, the mistake was ours.
[/mk_title_box][mk_title_box highlight_color=”#eded23″ font_family=”none”]TIMEDo you feel the rush?
Tick tock. Tick tock.
The urge to achieve everything.
Every thing you have been void of?
That colourful candy from the store.
That Mickey Mouse school bag.
That comic book you longed for.
That video game you always wanted to play.
That red and black bicycle with gears.
That vivid art box.
That high top pair of shoes.
That first feeling of butterflies.
That first girl you loved.
That sheet of good grades.
That lost again love.
That moment with your friends.
That job you dream of.
That trip to Ibiza.
That house atop the hill.
That woman of your life.
That top of the world feel.
Or is it that you have accomplished all?
Even time?
[/mk_title_box][mk_title_box highlight_color=”#dd3333″ font_family=”none”]CROSSROADS‘Do you have a girlfriend?’
It was a satisfactory ‘No.’
and while everything seemed same, he could see disdain in their eyes which cut him deep into his heart, deeper than the time he had given up his dreams. He could see them scouring his naked soul through his ragged clothes. He could feel the pity upon him.
He was a scholar, maybe not, a musician, an artist, an intellectual maybe.
But was he now?
Did he follow his dreams?
All it took was a simple question, and there he stood at the crossroads, seeking for an answer.
[/mk_title_box][mk_title_box highlight_color=”#dd9933″ font_family=”none”]ILLUSION‘Am I a good person?’
‘No.’
‘Do I try be better every day?’
‘No.’
Who is to judge?
‘I have created a bubble around me that hides me from this world.
That protects me from the devil.
From the outside they see me as a person they can get to and would do no harm because I resemble their evil.
Right from the very beginning
when I thought that
I would roam free,
live free,
live happily;
I came across the dark side of mine.
For every of my longings,
I did some gruesome things,
things that my soul wouldn’t approve of.
I’ve hurt many along this path for mere satisfaction.’
‘I had to.’
Because you know how the world out there is.
‘Who am I?’
The answer to this always fluctuates because my persona is dependent on all those lives I’ve inside of me.
They tend to come out different every time.
‘You ask of me to come out from the burrow.
But don’t you see?
There’s a whole lot waiting for the opportune moment,
waiting for me to come out and to grasp me in those scary long bony fingers,
choke my inner soul who is still pure,
who is still void of the evil and make it one of their own.’
‘I live in this world created by me.
Yes. I live in my illusion.
Don’t we all?’
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