Slip Away into the Night

Sometimes morning is not just about waking up
It’s an ordeal, it’s a nightmare.

Just like the one,  where you wake up and find yourself
In the middle of an ocean.
Fighting for each breath, you give out SOS, but its all in vain.

There is no savior, you are on your own
There is this voice that resonates in your head
But to let it out, you are too scared.

You don’t want to be called crazy,
There is already enough name tags you hold.

All you want to do is slip away in to the night.

You don’t understand, why do you have to get up.
Sun tries hard to pull you out of the bed
But you don’t want to get up when your brain is dead.

You stare outside the window for hours and hours
And see these people passing by:  some strangers some known.

You try to figure out, if they feel the same
Or this “dead-brain” is only your thing to claim.

And you sit with your knees touching your heart
Tucked in bed sheet, feeling invisible to time
You wait patiently, for each hour to pass.
And time mocks you on your face.
Take its sweet time, travels in its own pace.

I am Poetry

Poetry is not just
river, moon or stardust
It's much more than that.

It's a dialogue, a debate

between heart and mind
between luck and fate.

A mother's agony, a soldier's pain
wait of spring, shed of fall
cry of a baby and dance of rain.

It's poetry, a written prose
where clouds are black smoke
and tears are rain.

A meaning within a meaning
deepest thoughts of a blue evening
vibrant yellow of shining morning.

It's poetry, words are chosen
with care and caution
they represent the heart
and hard to define notions.

5 AM Rain Drops

Image

5 am rain drops

dark nights

stayed long

 

No life outside

just some fresh air

and silence thrive

 

Heaven is here

I open my eyes

and its near

 

Sun still hiding

wet grass and fog

life worth living

 

How I have forgotten

those 5 am mornings

of winters in rain swollen

 

%d bloggers like this: