To be or not to be



Killing Me Softly

Killing me Softly
Following her footsteps like a juvenile

Walking each course, counting every mile

Adapting, conforming, adjusting to every phase

Dressing every scene comporting her ways

From hearty czar-dom to a lackey’s grade

Reliving each memory before they fade

Subsiding every moral, breaking any rule

Kneeling afore your love, loosing against your tool

Yet I keep loving you wildly and madly

While your love is killing me softly

czar-dom : king’s life/king’s status

Absconding the Past

Absconding the past

Some of us have that past, the past we try to forget everyday. We try to escape the sin that we may or may not have committed. But it’s not that easy. . . running from the past, portraying like nothing happened, brooding beneath guilt! The past just keeps haunting.

Clung to my captious soul

Draining every thing but life

Like an offset gothic art

Deep and dark during night

Let me slyly beguile you

For once in a while

Breaching through the brawny fence

Counterpoising for the grotty wile

Ain’t any place so secluded

Even my shadow can’t find

Classroom Scandal

Classroom Scandal

Murmuring amongst the living dead

She progresses with extreme dignity

Here & there & god knows where

She moves like a wind seen very rare

I stop, I gaze & I breathe out

She intercepts, she feels & shouts loud

The mask is off the stone cold face

The burden too heavy to resume the race

I am off the road, into the wild

Walking amongst the rest like a forbidden child

Absolute Laugh

Absolute Laugh


Make me laugh like an innocent child

Not very vivid, just the usual mild

Skipping all the agony, all the pain

A laugh so rare as the autumn rain

Make me forget the worst of my nightmares

Refresh me like cold water dripping through hairs

A laugh so real it accompanies every joy

To enjoy the moment like a kindergarten boy

Make me believe that joy is life

Joy so pure like the rama’s wife

Broken Pieces

Broken Pieces

Life in its crystal form

More of like shattered glass

Each piece having its own image

So versatile yet so brutal

Magnificent & rendering with age

Interrelated within the frame

Not as pieces but bitsy cage

The stories, the emotions bound intact

As on a wimpy diary’s page