Necropolis

These pictures look fake,

As much as the smiles you make,

And what would you take,

To rid me of this ache,

This goes only to come back,

To my heart straight,

To drive in a stake,

Of an infectious hate,

And I am reduced to a state,

Which you would call degenerate,

Because pain drives me crazy,

While I struggle with ‘if’ and ‘maybe’,

And I've known the kind,

Of a sound mind,

And I know what it never does,

Asks for someone's blood,

Not sure when did I start,

When my instincts begun to dart,

Towards this malicious need,

To see your kind bleed,

And let it wash over,

Seep in the soul gone sour,

I couldn't believe what I did,

Mesmerized, my lips I licked,

I swear I could feel the veins,

Pulsing life, making me insane,

Formidable lust to feel the warmth,

Of your neck, you in my arms,

I felt the love as I ripped apart,

Sense of belonging in your every part,

Such absolute unions made me cry,

Meticulously with care I bled you dry,

Breathtaking till last breath,

Most beautiful even in death,

You were dead, I lived again,

Savouring the sickness and stench,

It didn't last though I felt my skin burn,

Dawn broke and sunrise begun,

Crestfallen I struggled to get off my bed,

Get ready for another day and go back to dead.

A Defeat

There she goes trusting,
Here he is lusting,

If this relation is a lady,
It is raped already,

It is too late to save,
Only an afterthought to rave,

Like her trust matters much,
Like it ain't just paranoid fuss,

Like he fears moral authority,
Like he can fight his monstrosity,

But he is confused though denies,
Himself as two he identifies,

She is a part of his existence,
Despite a formidable resistance,

In unity they refuse to coexist,
In division they cease to exist,

In their true form as law of nature,
Of whom he believes himself truest creature,

So he overpowers to supersede,
But conscience are her seed,

Making roots on this scourged earth,
Warming up this ever cold hearth,

But her push is too covert,
And his pull is too overt,

He is seemingly an absolute winner,
Even if she holds strongly in the interior,

And only actions can be seen,
Thoughts are too hard to glean,

In his win he is aloof,
In her defeat they both lose,

An eternal dilemma of right and just,
Such is the story of love and lust.

Same Love

Memories do wonder,

Mostly we forget,

Shades we remember,

Of happiness and regret,

Today it brought former,

It was a thought,

Of our time together,

It was love I am sure,

Though we weren't lovers,

But we were in it together,

One little less, other more,

I thought you took it,

With you when you left,

Now I see you didn't,

You protected it instead,

Now I hold it dear,

I am reckless no more,

Diligent in this matter,

Love ain't a chore,

Yes I will learn more,

I will learn to love again,

But I still yearns for you,

After all, love is same,

And so the happy thought,

You are a memory of light,

Though I miss you a lot,

You make my days bright,

By little things you do,

To make me realise,

That you still remember me,

And miss me too.

Wrong Lane

Heart a spirited air-plane,
Marked to no particular destination,
Meandering through runway of life,
Again took off through a wrong lane.

A boon or bane?
Penchant for falling again,
Asked for direction to dreams,
Life pointed to the wrong lane.

Pleasure in pursuit of love,
Invites rejection's pain,
Sand castles of hope,
Always built in wrong lane.

Desires are insane,
Milieu different I am same,
My obsessions are scarce,
Only available at wrong lane.

People suspect deliberation,
A propensity to seek heart ache,
Imagine I thrive on hit and run,
Perpetrated on wrong lane.

Left-right left-right,
Left propriety rightly vain,
Parade of self restraints,
Marching off to wrong lane.

This blank ticket to future,
Once bore someone's name,
Indifferent of queue today,
I seek one in wrong lane.

Innocent twinkle in your eyes,
Intrigues me to reach for these beacons,
So beautiful yet unclear from distance,
Is it you at far end of wrong lane?

Comforting Friend

This is right that is wrong,
It is that simple to her,
Her world is of two shades,
Unthinkable to colour her.

Extreme in her clarity of thought,
Knows what she wants and what not,
Beyond the difference of want and need,
I often fail to sow suspicion's seed.

Argue with her but in vain,
Perception overpowers logic,
And I voluntarily deign,
To earn the smile exotic.

I fear I corrupt her,
Showing world's real face,
In between malign and pure,
Letting her explore that place.

Maybe I undervalue,
Her sense and intellect,
Assumptions are obtuse,
Condescension incorrect.

Beyond comprehension,
This young woman,
A nimble wit bearing,
A shell of simpleton.

I see this woman,
Holding out on her own,
I sense this girl,
Looking out for her own.

She puts a tough front,
Lone free spirit,
Without fears or care,
If he is with her in it.

Look close you will see,
Little chinks in this wall,
Overt vulnerability,
Of a lonely girl.

About their love,
I neither doubt or care,
But if I liked eyes,
I would love this pair.

As I see her see me,
I try to see more,
Glean her mystery,
To see me some more.

But an idle fantasy,
Her choices are resolute,
Trees of imagination,
Never bear any fruit.

Still I welcome her,
In my universe,
I have more to me,
I wish for her to traverse.

Not to claim her as my own,
Flowers belong to the garden,
But to stay as sun and wind
Distant yet a comforting friend.

Two wounds

Two wounds on my body,
Of Ambition and of Apathy,
To rise above the earthly,
I strive to achieve satiety,
Hence ambition remained,
Apathy could not be gained.

Two wounds on my body,
Of Knowledge and of Ignorance,
I know some of many,
Still not all of any,
This knowledge of ignorance,
Brings mighty discontent.

Two wounds on my body,
Of Pride and of Humility,
I choose not to test you,
In belief, I can best you,
My conscience caught in perplexity,
Am I proud of my modesty?

Two wounds on my body,
Of Forgiveness and of Animosity,
I don't forget, I do forgive,
I douse the flame but embers outlive,
This divine intention eludes me,
My absolution rendered dreamy.

Two wounds on my body,
Of Love and of Hate,
Hate festers in love's void,
And keeps me strongly tied,
To your archaic memories beaut,
coalesced cherish and loathe.

Two wounds on my body,
One outweighs the other,
It changes with the moment,
As I distinguish holy from malevolent,
Is there one to choose?
Of wounds reflecting a ruse,
Mirror image or cause and effect,
But not absolute for me to select,
Curtailed in this predicament,
I suffer this hurt in silence.

Tell-tale

I am told I am depressed

And I fail to recognise it

I am not moving on

I even fail to hide it

I am told it is easy

To find love again

I am often hopeless

It wont lessen the pain

I am told its self induced

I harbour it and aggravate

I've concocted a hell

In my brain to immolate

I am told by some

I aim to garner pity

I operate in desperation

I tend to psychopathy

I am told I am no different

Not special in discourtesy or tact

I refuse to acknowledge mediocrity

Integral to myself as fact

I am told by many

I don't like to listen

I am told too much

I don't wish to fathom

I believed in happy endings

I was wishful as a babe

So I am plagued with obsession

My wishes are my cage