Resonating souls within,
Gems only found on stars,
Shooting for infinite beauty,
Paths collide again and again,
Moving homes,
Around the world,
Where I just want to be,
An adventurous traveller,
Smiling for the rising sun,
Painting my constellation
With dancing angelic beings,
Always sharing their heartbeats,
A masterful choreography,
Designed in sophistication,
Whom I consider my home,
Housing my soul in theirs.


Panogestically Awkward

A being of awkwardness,
Slides his phone out,
Opens the camera,
Holds it high in the air,
Records from right to left,
Stops at where I sit,
Right hand pinches outward,
Zooms into me I guess,
A being of awkwardness with a
Good panogestically ramic video,
But lacks nature,
No stars or constellations,
Neither streams or trees,
Ah the struggle of nature
In the presence of awkward men.

Engraved Whispers

As old and magnificent as a banyan tree,
I sat by the unearthed curved roots,
Eastern celestial hand holding its leaves,
While the other is wrapped around its bark,
A dance ceremony to hear its whispers,
Symbiotically shared with soothing birdsongs,
Angelic beings roaming to find harmony,
However, a green leaf will soon depart,
And along with it will the hanging lanterns fade,
Except, if you truly saw the heart of the tree,
And the whispers it wrote on the walls of
Imperial palaces to root their thrones,
Then you will realise the hope in igniting
Your heart to beat melodiously once more,
Because there is no reason to pause a life,
Like birds, constantly ascending the heavens,
And so, I must relay its whispers to another,
But within it you shall always be engraved.

It was You She Hanged, Remember!

Needles keep striking your chest,
The place where you remember,
Beautiful memories like red roses,
But then the thorns bleed you dry,
And you stop. You retreat. You –
Forget about her, all of her,
You have unmasked this being,
So, move on and forget that hug,
Forget that smile and that dance,
The songs and the infinite poetry,
All you need to do is remember,
Remember her twisted words,
Making you feel guilty every time,
Shackled and imprisoned in her world,
Each step thinking twice or ten times,
Until you stop talking to everyone,
Relationships cut, deleted, stabbed,
And with her incessant hisses:
Your own self she enslaved,
Your close friends she drowned,
And at last, it was you that she hanged,

Fighting for Her

The one in a billion being brought to light
In a dark era where many bark and bite,
And a passer-by noted the infringement
Of the laws in a dystopian society,
And he saw the predators hunting the wounded angel,
Now that Time has shown a different face
Discharging electrical shocks that shocked his mind beyond repair,
And he tried to stand firm against dust storms
Crippling the minds of pure beings,
She was indeed falsely accused, involuntarily resurrected,
And I have sworn to evacuate this polluted era
Such that she may feel alive, at least once, by me,
An objective and a burden I carry until I succeed,
For she is one in a billion brought to light in a dark era.

Rhythmic Beings

The heart is agonised as it beats for its angel,
Turning right in a reverse motion outwards,
Disoriented as if a newborn yearning for warmth,
Love and compassion are its compass,
Faintly immersing its emotions calling for hers’,
Pitch perfect,
An artist is thriving,
In a melodic continuity,
Towards infinity,
For every beat is worth billions of stars,
But struggling to beat less intensely,
So as to not give hints to by-passers,
But holds for few seconds and skips beats,
Out on long distances they hold onto threads,
Drums of passion hammering a rhythmic cry,
On the dancing stage their performance ignites,
And as it walks towards closed arms,
She glimpses his sudden jump and opens,
And he lets go.