Painful, it must have been
or was she benumbed,
when she fumbled down the stairs made of love,
shattered into a million pieces,
each piece, too tiny to pick,
each piece, too far to find,
There must be a place
for the broken, ruined, destroyed and healed...
but she lives somewhere in the clouds of peace
as specks of dust, unknown and unseen...

There had to be a reason why he is today the way he is. He'd either stand out in a crowd or he'd be like an invisible gush of air that passes by which no one cares to notice. But nevertheless, he'd always be alone, away in his own thoughts.

They say everyone has a story to tell yet there are stories we never get to hear. Stories of pain, of grief, of trauma. And these stories would make you wonder if they are true.

And then these stories would tell you that it matters not if you do not have a good job, a good love life, or social life or a good career. Because when we talk of death, nothing else seems to make sense, nothing else seems to matter.

He'd always talk of things that would seldom make sense, if at all. And what he couldn't say, he would write.

He had to write. There was no other way. For the only one who'd listen to him had left him far behind. And she went not to a place where he could meet her, even if for a day. She went to an abode out of his reach.

"Heaven", he said, "she dwells there now."

I could cry, I could say I am sorry for asking about her or I could say nothing at all.

Silence, I choose not. For sometimes it's as cruel as the harshest of words.

As I search for words what to say to this grief-stricken soul, I wonder hadn't I always thought of stories he must have been hiding. Hadn't I always wondered what might be the reason behind the way of living he chose. And now that I got to know the immense pain he bears each passing day, I secretly wish I had never wondered, I had never asked.

And then one fine day,
it ceased to matter,
altogether,
when there was nothing left but oblivion,
disguised as felicity,
dressed as sorrow,
broken at places,
yet hopeful for a new tomorrow,
and they could, but see only one side,
so all they did, was presume the other...

The battle of words,
and one had to lose
another limped his way
to the grave he dug for himself,
and all the others
that survived the war,
screamed and wailed,
and hoped they'd died.

Because there are a million thoughts that never sleep
and a million more that wake up as each second passes by...
And it's insanity inside
but I can no longer keep quiet
Oh, I can't speak as well
I need to write
I have to write...

There's nothing more unattractive than a man who blames predestination for his own failures and a woman who blames men for her own vulnerability...

Blame thyself 

It's scary how someone can be so sad within
but smile in front of the entire world...

And then they will weep till they choke, 
and then wiping those tears away, 
they will laugh with you as if nothing happened..

How then will you ever trust that person enough to leave them alone??

Stay. Simply stay.

It's strange how people give up on you within weeks of promising that they will always be there..
and it's just sad that promises are destined to break
and when you had finally believed in that one promise
someday you give up on yourself too...
and it's not about love, it was never..
it is, at times, about barren hopes and a bleak tomorrow...

Of all the things you said I couldn't do

forgetting you has been the easiest...

Dahling, let those tears fall
they are not forever to stay
with them, let the brutal winter go too
for summer will be there for you

and may be this savagery
you do not deserve to see
but even if this cruel world hurts
know that I will be there for you...

You are the serenity I look for each passing day
and when you look back at me so lovingly
I know you're the divinity too
and I can spend the rest of my life
just looking at you

I'd like to lose myself again 
in that cold wintry night..
cozy in my own company
I'd like again to write...
giving in to feelings
with all my might
I'd bleed my heart out
in solitude, to write...

I will love you like the desert burns along the sun when they are together,
and when you will be gone,
just like every one else,
I will cry for you like the snow that melts at the first hint of summer...
and hoping that you'll be back
I will miss you like the clouds lose themselves when it rains...

Do you have a shoulder to cry on?
Someone who would listen to your deepest woes without judging you?
Or is it just you and the image in the mirror?

Exactly when will you give up?

When things will seem out of your hands ?

When situations will seem out of your control?

Will you try to control them? Or will you let go?

Will you give up then? Or will you keep holding on?

Don't tell me that I gave up; I didn't.

Because I didn't let go; I just let it be.

Do you know that pain of leaving when you look back expecting to see a face waving goodbye at you but all you see is a dark abandoned corner?

There won't be any reason to return then.

All you can do is look ahead and not to stumble and fall on the pit ahead waiting for you.

I am an optimist and when I am too sure of something or someone, well, of course it turns out that I am wrong 

.. at other situations, I imagine the worst and needless to say, I am again wrong

What can you do for love?
Can you leave a person for love?
Can you leave a country for love?
I think I wouldn't even leave my couch for love :-P

Congratulations.
You've just been demoted from the "pity" sector to the "apathy" sector.
To check the validity of this offer you can ask if anyone cares.
To cancel your subscription, go get a life.
Thank you.

One can simply never take back the words he spoke.
And when you know you unintentionally did hurt someone, instead of letting it go or keeping a distance from that person, you can actually do something to mend the broken. That's the least we can do, when circumstances never are on our side; we can stick to our words and promises even if people change and fate ruins..