I stumbled upon a photograph.
A childhood memory,
A vault of innocence,
A scene of another century.

Those eyes, oblivious to deceive,
A toy brimming my hands.
Contentment overflowing my body,
Standing on the happiest stands.

Nostalgia over took my mind,
I can’t ever be that happy again.
No matter the role,
Not as foe or as a swain.

I hope I find something that gratifying,
As that toy in my hands.
Something I can wrap my world around,
To cherish and love till the ends.


Mood of the Rain.


I have rejoiced,
The thunders followed by the rain.
I have camouflaged,
My tears under the falling drops of pain.

It’s riveting how,
The rain can relate to me.
It can feel my pain and cry,
And can relish my glee.

Makes me wonder,
What’s the mood of the rain,
I think It’s the reflection of,
My own happiness and pain.


A journey in the dark.


What if there’s no light,
at the end of the tunnel, just a mirage.
And the walk in dark tunnel is all you get
And a memory’s collage,

You’ve spent your life following that light,
and vowed to enjoy when u reach it.
But the journey is what you were supposed to enjoy,
and now you’ve missed it.

I still follow the light,
at the end the tunnel in all its spark.
But I also started enjoying,
this journey in the dark.


Tangled Thoughts


I found a bunch of
Tangled yarns,
All different colours,
Tangled with a thousand turns.

What if they didn’t mean
To tangle,
And so did my thoughts,
But my mind is strangled.

I can see every yarn,
And every thought clearly.
But I can’t solve that puzzle,
To free any, merely.

Everytime I try,
To ease a knot,
End up creating a new one,
A new mess of thoughts.

All I can do is cut the knots,
And salvage the rest.
Wait for them to tangle
And start all over again.