Written

 But your name is written all  over my playlist,

Like personal lyrics in my favorite songs.

Like rhyming words in my Poetries.

Like coffee and cup, they belong.

But your name is written in my  stories,

Like a hero in my favorite book I have drawn.

Like a beautiful knight in movies.

Like rain and breeze, they belong.

But your name is written all over the places,

Like streets and houses and cobblestones.

Like getting lost with familiar traces,

Like stars and the sky, we belong.

 But aren't we all are prisoners of life?

And most of us never wanted to be free.

Struggling with all the cares as we hold on tight.

Not understanding that death could give us liberty.

 So I was watching Netflix series "When They See Us" and oh God! My heart is breaking the entire time. So much violence and injustice all at same time. 

God help us all. Amen.

Fervent Confessions

I whispered to the moon your name,

And I confessed to the stars all the feelings that I felt so in vain.

But no shooting star dared to let go of their heavens.

And so the constellations remained the same.

And so I whispered to the moon your name,

Confessing my fervent prayers in flames.

But these letters are addressed to the winds,

And the ethers are just black frames.

But I whispered to the moon your name,

Auburn embers confessing my shames.

These ethereal emotions are so delicate to feel,

Flickering glitters of little hopes I claim.

 

Pauline

 Stars aligned.

And oh! How they cried,

When all was said and done,

And the moon said you're just not the one.

Stars aligned.

And they were shining like your mind.

But that night someone made a wish,

And one of your stars fell and so it missed.

Stars aligned.

And they were cheering at your side.

But when all was said and done,

The moon said you're worthy but you're just not the one.

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Of Promises I Did Not Made

 But I have kept your pictures inside my notebook. 

Like how I kept promises I did not even made.

So funny how I hang your name in my heart on a hook,

Like frames on the museum walls you cannot trade.

And I see it all coming like a deja vu.

Like a movie that I was directing.

And the story of our fate is the script I read through,

And I rewrote it a thousand times in the wrecking. 

It was a love story in my reckoning.

But I watched it fall in to pieces and it didn't land in my hands.

Oh! It was like dark ages, my empire falling!

And I could only hold on to your memories like postcards never sent.

The Doppelganger

 

And oftentimes I felt like I was her,

With just a different face, color and race.

Her opinions and disposition, her grace and sometimes her craze,

It makes me wonder if she could have been my doppelganger.

And she fought dragons and I fought my demons.

She wears her crown and she has her venom,

While I have my armour and I sting like scorpion.

And I wonder if we were born in the same kingdom.

A Splash of Colours in the Sky

Secrets in Her Poetries

 And there are secrets in her poetries,

Whispered to the stars and the moon,

Written in the dark paths of her memories,

Living ghosts, haunting and singing songs and proses of tragedies and comedies.

And there are secrets in her words ambiguously.

Casually hurting and soothing to oblivion. 

Writing names and places and epochal encounters subtlely,

Catching sparks in the darkness of long forgotten stories.

And there are secrets in her every letters represents.

They are carved down on the pavement of her soul.

Letters beautifully written but never sent.

Letters read by her and not by the one it was intent.