faulty clock

The Draconian Devil
Would have been kinder
The Lame Saint
Would have been wiser.


It wasn't your fault
Neither was it mine
It was the fault of time
That you couldn't be mine.


The deed is done
You are gone
Pointing fingers
Is not that's being done.


The summer breeze
Could only last so long
The cold winter
Had to come along.

old piece

Nobody said it was going to be easy. Yet, here we are complaining. About the things that could have happened, about the magic that should have happened. All the time, it was right in front of the eyes. But we chose to ignore it by closing our eyes. And whenever our conscience tried to speak to us we changed the subject and shut it down. However, the conscience never dies. And even today you can hear it murmuring deep inside. So, we can't sleep at night. Then the devil spoke "That's what alcohol is for." Solution it was but a temporary one. And we knew it. But somehow we got into our head that it was the only solution. And occasional drinking is not going to cause any harm or so we thought. Without knowing the occasional became a need. The alcohol started drinking us. We lost faith in life. No willpower whatsoever remains to fightback. Lamenting about the past is all we can do these days. But I say otherwise. If we can breathe then we can act. Everybody has problems but it depends on how you fightback. The method that worked for me is writing. Most of them scrap; no thesis no conclusion just plain writing. Who would have thought jotting down your thoughts in the Notes app. would be that helpful. But it helped me get the emotions out of me. Those emotions that have been pinned in my bones for years are now transferred to a different location. And that new home of theirs is not a non-living white surface. It's my summer home I visit from time to time. Often, people ask me what is my goal because they think I don't know what I am doing. I know my goal. I am just confused as to which path should I take.

Will you join me in this fleet?

Places to go, people to meet;

Will you join me in this fleet?

The roads are weary, the car is old;

Pretty sure we won't find any gold.

The journey is long, the weed is gone;

How I wish the worries were none.

I might not be the one from your dreams;

But I will give you the world you dreamed.

I wish...

Let me take to the day when the works ceased being fun. It was the April of 2005. A huge separation was taking place. A separation of individuals who were bound together by the thread of time. And in the end time separated them. It was plain wrong even for time. The parting of ways made then weaker day by day. They became more and more vulnerable to the chains of society by every passing day. And then came the day when the soul no longer spoke. Every word that came out front their mouth was a judgement. Everything had to be either right or wrong. Even the loving sky was judged by the cloth it chose to wear that day. A very sad day for humanity and even sadder for the individuals. People ask me what would I do differently if I had the opportunity to do so. I would apologize if that would bring back our friendship. But maybe it's too late. And like the proverb says" bageko khola farkidaina", maybe it's time for me to move on. But the question is where to. And this new world of yours that you keep talking about, is it any better than what I have now. Please don't give me false hopes. I am tired of being lied to. For once, I deserve to be treated like I am. Only the burning charcoal knows the heat it's in. So don't pass your judgement around like Halloween candies. I don't care who you are and where you come from because in the end I know where we will all go. And that is nowhere. 

Did you see?

Did you see
The tear drop in disguise?
Amidst other droplets
Of the shimmering rain
Hid a drop of tear
Right above the lips
With a smile feigned.

Did you feel
The nonchalance exhibited?
In the smile
The lips feigned
Because there wasn't an answer
Because there wasn't a question
That's how eyes talk.

Did you hear
The plea for mercy?
Of the goat to the butcher
To be killed in one hit
I did, the butcher didn't
He slit the throat
That's how the world runs.