Conquest the world to the horizons of sea

 What is motive of life, to achieve success or reproduce of our own,

And what is success, to earn money or satisfy others expectations to achieve some thrown….

The end shows you the reality of nature, where everyone has to leave,

So what’s the thought what you believe …

You have one life to try not follow the beliefs and norms,

Try rebuild and create your story amidst all storms….

You are one soul who is born without your will where to be,

So maybe this is way you have to conquest the world to the horizons of sea…

No one knows the determination of existence until someone perishes,

M talking beyond all philosophies of loving messages….

Awake

 

When there is thought or ambition,

Don’t try to retreat from your desires to contradiction…

The world will give advice and suggestions to give up,

Listen to them with close thoughts, but don’t succumb…

Always remember you are going to die to one day,

So embrace all these mistakes anyway…

Don’t work for success or fame or glory,

Try to create aura which defines your story….

We are all leaving in thoughts laid by society,

So if you have your own beliefs there is doubt your own sanity…

Somehow you trade your soul and accept the directions,

Which again question the paradox why human’s thoughts have complications…

Try to be someone who can arise from dust of this hypocrisy,

And be inspiration to others to defeat this ecology….

Create your own philosophy of life in this dimension,

Without any fear of any intention…

 

Don’t work for success or fame or glory,

Try to create aura which defines your story….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So what’s the purpose of all glory…

There was a forgotten hill, long ago in amidst of dense forest,

In small hut there live memories of all broken souls singing in chorus…

 

Trying to build lyrics of lonely moment,

The buzz of noises can be heard only if you are poet…

 

The fog and dew creating mystery of aloneness,

Feelings trying to glimpse from darkness….

 

Where the mornings in the forest are most blissful with sound of birds whisper,

Emotions of so many thoughts flowing along with beautiful river…

 

So how to stretch to that hut which is visible far away in that hazy atmosphere,

And no one to greet you, only shadows of past there…

 

The melodies of souls trying to give some message,

If only you have power to hear the essence…

 

So when I reach to that hut there climbing all paths of loneliness,

It was vacant with dried leafs on the ground giving feel of emptiness…

 

Found some words written on the wall,

And that’s all…

 

The meaning of life and what’s the story,

So what’s the purpose of all glory….

 

There was a forgotten hill, long ago in amidst of dense forest,

In small hut there live memories of all broken souls singing in chorus…

Thoughts evaporating

 

I want to write so many things which are evaporating,

But words are not there for my emotions patiently waiting…

There is so much to explain this pain,

Thoughts of memories haunting again…

My desires are hampering my peace,

Don’t know how this wandering will ever cease…

The echo of expectations can hear again,

Waiting to get wet in shower of confusions in moon light rain…

Started to enjoy this solitude within all this shouts,

And creating more questions and doubts….

Seems everything is empty when philosophy speaks,

Nothing is true and nothing is false when mind seeks…

 

I want to write so many things which are evaporating,

But words are not there for my emotions patiently waiting…

Emotions of time

 We all have past, but it’s over without any obsession,

I am glad time travelling is not possible in this dimension…

 

The echo of future coming from far away,

Listen to that which it want to say…

 

Siting on present try to make every minute worth,

Try to nurture each emotions which you have given birth…

 

Songs of happiness are whistling, try to hear.

All sadness of past will disappear…

 

Give a chance to yourself to fight with yourself,

It’s you, who have taken birth to live not someone else…

 

The memories will arise from dust from past and will try to dominate,

With fuel of society it has story to narrate…

 

Try to look at peace without any reaction,

The stories will dissolve without any self-interaction…

 

The past was a time where you lived,

And present is time where you have arrived….

 

Give yourself a chance to bring change fighting all,

You don’t know you are capable to break the wall…

 

The bond of past is not easy to leave,

You cry or do wonders, is what you have to believe…

 

 

Siting on present try to make every minute worth,

Try to nurture each emotions which you have given birth…

The threads of sadness was always there with you

 The threads of sadness was always there with you,

You always tried to open with your happiness…

And now when I am tangled you are busy in your darkness…

What was this happiness which I was not aware…

Want to get free from this you have the key…

At least tell me if this my destiny to be like this in this suffocation

And my only hope was your inspiration…

How can you leave me tangled with my thoughts…

Take part in my thoughts …

Don’t try to create new dots...

Try to be true and erase history….

Which you are capable and creating mystery…

Have that balls to say

A big good bye….

Don’t avoid or be silent 

With tears I will be vibrant…

What is important, is your smile

 What is important, is your smile.

Nothing else matters in admist of snowfall you standing for a while…

If you happy nothing else matters

Whatever if my dream shatters…

The noise of busy thought

The literature of what we tend to cook…

when our thoughts don't have grammar why the language has...

let me speak through feelings with tabs…

your feelings were so true.

All the music still strumming like a morning dew…

The gravity of my love will always be there

Whatever flight you take anywhere…

The noise of busy thought

The literature of what we tend to cook…

Ok however it cliché it sounds

 Ok however it cliché it sounds,

Although I don’t believe in all these days…

The gender equality is still myth go in any country 

What an irony we still celebrate first female prime minister in any continent…

The nature gives pain to them every month,

What men can’t even fathom…

Its mandate for them to do things which laid by society

Even knowing their real personality ….

Who and what she wants.

That’s a very conditioned response….

They make castles home,

But again some foolish roam…

The struggle to exist with harmony without their expectations,

Is still consider as acceptance as relations…

Nobody allows her to be herself,

And men cry one she says farewell….

All hypocrisy of this society she digest,

Where she is not even allow to quest…

Wish you all amazing women on this planet

There is nothing which you can’t accomplish or manage…

Ok however it cliché it sounds,

Although I don’t believe in all these days…

We all have past, but it’s over without any obsession

 We all have past, but it’s over without any obsession,

I am glad time traveling is not possible in this dimension…

The echo of future coming from far away,

Listen to that which it want to say…

Siting on present try to make every minute worth,

Try to nurture each emotions which you have given birth…

Songs of happiness are whistling, try to hear.

All sadness of past will disappear…

Give a chance to yourself to fight with yourself,

It’s you, who have taken birth to live not someone else…

The memories will arise from dust from past and will try to dominate, 

With fuel of society it has story to narrate…

Try to look at peace without any reaction,

The stories will dissolve without any self-interaction…

The past was a time where you lived,

And present is time where you have arrived….

Give yourself a chance to bring change fighting all,

You don’t know you are capable to break the wall…

The bond of past is not easy to leave,

You cry or do wonders, is what you have to believe…

Siting on present try to make every minute worth,

Try to nurture each emotions which you have given birth…

When sound of confusion will melt in confidence

 When sound of confusion will melt in confidence,

Trying to listen to stream of consciousness…

Not to do or what to do become one in mind,

Where is question, where is thoughts to align…

I am listening to tunes of society,

Where I was tuned to songs of sanity …

The query to find myself is still mystery,

How to curve this contradictory…

And were lies have to be decorated to prove yourself,

The ecosystem has already made you someone else….

I will fight like a warrior who is already defeated, 

Where the chapters of hope is written before completed…

The decisions of horses of mind,

Making all thoughts again unconfined ….

When sound of confusion will melt in confidence,

Trying to listen to stream of consciousness…

What is love, the myth or reality

 What is love, the myth or reality,

Through the ages, mystics, sages, singers and poets trying to decode this key…

May be an overrated phenomenon of emotions,

Where you want to believe this notions…

The different forms of love 

Which all define unconditional or platonic …

There is always a sound of sadness in love which comprehend happiness,

Whatever you think the paradox of these words are, can still fill the emptiness…

Have to follow the rules in the emotions also, that’s so weird,

What freedom of thoughts we talk about which are born to get disappeared…

 Still thinking what love is, an emotion or habit or choice,

Because emotions don’t have voice…

 

Trying to define this feeling is beyond the understanding because it changes,

With every moment of phases…

So 

What is love, the myth or reality,

Through the ages, mystics, sages, singers and poets trying to decode this key…

What is evolved mind

 What is evolved mind,

A thought which always crawls and declined…

Where normal pleasure is still guilt,

Which has been engraved before you’re built…

The hypocrisy of all thoughts laid by some torch carriers,

And all we follow like a vacuum without questioning the barriers…

The song of sadness still echoing because of this in all immersions,

How to settle this war, were the result is already has versions…

The one who challenges becomes an unconventional clown,

Because majority follows, becomes the truth, that’s so verbal noun…

We are following the rule of following, without searching,

Where peace is getting manifested into something…

What is evolved mind,

A thought which always crawls and declined…

There is place where sadness also dance

 There is place where sadness also dance,

Come with me will show you a bit glance…

Don’t let solitude of your thoughts behold you,

Let’s wait till morning dew…

Trying to celebrate the pain with smile,

Well, I cried for you, but it’s while…

Don’t know starting to enjoy this dance of sadness,

May be its essay of madness…

This writing needs an abrupt end where there is no conclusion,

Let me remain in my delusion…

There is place where sadness also dance,

Come with me will show you a bit glance…

When I think of philosophies of why we exist

 When I think of philosophies of why we exist,

Trying to decode that what everyone missed….

Purpose of being alive is to survive or fulfill others list,

Which is predefined which you can’t resist …

To compare with others or be yourself,

There is ocean of emotions there is question about oneself…

When I think about universe as whole 

All this desires and ambitions seems like empty hole…

We are like living like robots defined by rules,

And even its amazing emotions are controlled by tools…

So don’t tell me whom you love or what you need, 

It’s all programmed in your primitive mind it’s already feed…

Everyone wants a cliché life style,

Where evolution of mind dies in middle…

When I think of philosophies of why we exist,

Trying to decode that what everyone missed….

Summers

 

When summers are blooming,

I remember sounds far way cuckoo cooing…

Those nostalgic moments of summer vacation,

When only getting up and playing was motivation…

Where innocence was at peak,

The ghost of present is being mystique…

Why am I being nostalgic of this summers,

The memories are sung in my head by drummers…

Song of heat embracing,

Those smell of mangos are amazing…

When evenings are long with sunlight

The game of cricket can go on without any plight...

Where Mornings are bright,

And we are soaking our sadness in light…

 

When summers are blooming,

I remember sounds far way cuckoo cooing…

 

 

 

Sometimes...

 

The hidden known stranger came along singing

Me standing beside a tree, in night still raining…

 

The sound of words still echoing in amidst of forest of anxiety

M getting more and more mesmerised with curiosity…

 

The stranger is still confused about her magnificence

Creating my excitement where logic is absence…

 

Following her shadow without knowing her name

Still feeling a bond of connection like a burning flame…

 

Creating a calmness in my anarchy of thoughts and feelings

Want to know more or whether m I dreaming…

 

There she comes, can see a speck of feathers waving in moonlight

Making a soulful view in the night…

 

I slowly move towards the forest and start getting wet in the rain

Asking why this stranger don’t have name….

 

The hidden known stranger came along singing

Me standing beside a tree, in night still raining…