At age three 

I dreamed.

Of lands full of sweets.

Of an endless coloured street,

stretched as far as I could see.

I dreamed of my toys,

that entertained me with their noise.

I dreamed of everything and more.

I dreamed.

At age ten,

I heard.

About wondrous lands that decorated the earth.

Of all the plants and birds,

our Mother gave birth to.

I heard abo...

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If I had but a
Choice
To choose my fate
Farwell from this world

I'd rather drown
In the pool of tranquility
And die a peaceful death
Alone
Than be suffocated
Out of this lonlely life
Yearning for
Your lack of love.

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So out of place

Yet so beautiful 

Like the moon

In the morning sky

Losing its shine

And relevance 

With the Rising Sun.

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Poetry comes to me
In bits
and pieces
I write it
On a paper
All those
random lines
Which look like
Prequel plots
of
A hurt
not yet felt
I keep losing
this paper
Just like how I
Keep losing the
Thoughts of you
And of
you and me
Confusing
my heart
So I get to
postpone
the hurt--
 

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