I fall in love…

I fall in love, just a little bit

With people

Who show me a part of their soul;

However small.

Who let me peek 

Inside those massive walls; 

Just a peek, 

That’s all.

I fall a little, just a little,

For sparkle in their eyes; 

Who let me take a look, 

At all the dreams they tend to hide.

Who don’t feel the need

While I’m around, 

To cover up their scars, 

And put on their best fake smiles.

I fall in love, 

Maybe just a bit, 

With those who let me look

Beyond their lives;

In their soul

Their hearts

Their twisted minds.


​Don’t you find it rediculously funny, 

How we seem to keep up 

With each other’s check in’s and check out’s 

How we like all the fake-smile selfies 

But never even bother to ask, 

The reason behind those eyes seeming empty.

We know what’s up, 

But not what is deep down; 

Don’t you cringe, 

At how formal we now sound?

Just text messages, 

We seem to forget the uniqueness of each voice

Everyone’s reminded of birthdays and anniversaries, 

But to make conversations, who’s got the time?

With all the contacts on our fingertips, 

And all the news on our timeline; 

We might be effectively updated, 

But never really connected. 

Dear kind heart, 

Oh my fountain of serenity, 

With all the world’s love and empathy; 

Don’t you ever get tired, 

Of giving love to every heart 

you meet?

You look so calm and placid, 

Though I sense a hurricane under your skin; 

Where do you bring all the stardust from, 

To leave it on every door you’ve been? 

Don’t you ever, amidst your endeavours, 

Run out of love for yourself, and feel empty?


We taste our on blood 

and the injuries, they last; 

But never long enough to create a wound

and let reminisce the past. 

The tangling affairs and neck grips

are all part of the game, 

We play hard, with sportsman spirit, 

never two days are the same. 

We push and fall, hold and rise; 

Don’t need anyone, for one another we are suffice.

Bandages and bruises, 

honour our pride; 

and the wars, they don’t last, 

they dawn with the light.

Through the storms and waves, we hold tight, 

not letting each other give up; for alone a lion never makes a pride. 

Ornated scars

​I smile, I laugh, with words I play; 

Don’t you notice the things I behold? 

Stealing those black, empty eyes from your gaze, 

I show you all the bright colors of my soul.

For people here, ask them once, 

No word they utter against me; 

Only I know, with those stained hands of mine, 

How I manage to come so clean. 

Every bullet fired, reaches back home, 

Wounds are turned to art; 

They appreciate the masterpieces I make, 

With the dark pieces of my heart.


The innocuous, petty strand of letters

What good would they do?

They drain my eyes, weave the lies,

And paint my heart blue.

By and by, when they fall,

Raw and roaring, they devolve,

Don’t plunder the streets red;

With blue ink, they bloodshed.

Leave marks of knots and crosses

Carefully stained, I keep them in the hall of fame;

My hands are anyway, better adorned with them,

Than scars I used to tame.

Look, my words are a mirror,

To everything around;

Letters mould themselves to create perfect chaos,

And silently scream out loud.

Words, you say, what good are they,

To guns and swords in any way?

My weapon fills the vacant,

Strip the world naked, 

And survives even when your weapons decay.