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Category: poetry

But then love is now old

Love is old when it strikes me, Love is not the funny freaky kind, Neither messy, nor couture countless caressing carcass. It is more of always, it is like those old ones who stay together, live life free, bold together. They are blind or…

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I chose to love it that way one time

It is a continuation of narrative poetry. But, then love touched the poetry, the truest form and I would sway a little. But, then the winds will always touch him within the spirits of the white coat. When you love truly, You love alone…

This night I dreamt of you

This is a narrative romantic poem Please leave your likes and comments on the attempt. The sleep came late, the faces of despair hung around long, kids on wheels, the white hairs flew amongst the blues and the greys. The sleep came late. My…

Whom do you call your own?

Whom do you call your own? Blood, is it your own? Religion, is it your own? Castes, is it your own? Skin colour, is it your own? The hair colour, is it your own? Whom can you call your own? Those you love? Those…

How long can you grieve?

How long can you sit in stations, in trains, in buses, in plains, in parks, Up on hills and grieve. How long can you see the sad humans, bad ones, rugged ones, kind ones, sweet ones, mourning people. How long can you grieve? Grieve…

It was you amongst a few

I lived somehow, medicines, pain, hopelessness, heartaches, of my own brought me down. Then, there was a rain, Slow, beautifully relaxing gain. Life never could mean how we live to earn or earn to live and churn. I sat in a corner trying in…

The power of oddities

You might be wondering What oddities rule the clamouring, What grows in the mind? What moves in the soul? What stirs the body? Impulses, conscience, goose bumps? But, is it all of it? Or all of none? Ruling, scaling, scalding, moulding millions by day…

The lagoon of knowledge

It springs from the third eye. Bidding our entity a firm good bye. There is no girl in this, nor a guy. It’s all about an energy, soul and a lie. Life is a lie, death is truth in my truce. I like my…

The harrowing tale of feeling

When I lived quite a bit in life, I knew I had learnt to feel. Felt tears, felt smiles, anger, revenge, falsities, brevity’s delight. I felt many more things like I was less a human and something else. I felt a bird, a tree,…

Love is

Note for readers: I realised I must add it up The genre remains same. However covers different variants of human emotions Please leave your comments if you like them and feel free to add your opinions. 💖 💗 💕 Love is shiny satin, Love…