Admiring cold teardrops, with no empathy Screaming to melt down the Frozen memories Despise the reflection of Sun rays, swallowing the cold breeze Pyramid of hope moving down in dark void, Dry lips pressing calmness very quietly and tightly Walking into crowd, plain thoughts become immobile Dust on my clothes start fading in teardrops Wings of satisfaction broken down completely I don't remember how many decades passed away, When I last tasted relief.
Homeless pain hiding inside me, unbeknownst to me want my protection In between Falling white snow and uplifting blue smoke I'm mere motionless stone of sorrow Stuck in hourglass, sand becomes my enemies Dusk and dawn change so fast just like four pages of poetries But I'm scattered and stuck in hues of darkness at the same place. I thought our promises would last forever, I was wrong I thought our trust would last forever, I was wrong I thought love would last forever: I was wrong.
I blink in the eye of morose, trespassing the aftermath of carnage, the soil reeks of rotten blood and brewing forlorn. The golden sun settles on the forehead of warriors while pain camouflage, I thought that peace would stay forever: I was wrong.
I burn on massacred battlefields, where flowers aren't plucked but slaughtered beneath feet turning their homes into barren lands. Winds blow away withered petals and eulogies are sung upon, I thought inhabitants be sheltered forever: I was wrong.
I stand and recall last spoken words of a father, son and spouse choked inside throat while wrapping in the arms of motherland. Life looked like half burnt cigarette, there was much to offer but it snatched back, I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong. ~Purva
Your smile is a lie to the world but a womb of belief to me, that settles inside my throat choking it each minute, every hour, imbued with subtle waves flourishing the ripples of forever, when my heart and voyage are bequeathed in thunder-storms.
Your smile is a lie of utmost human thought that breaths with a frolic imagination when my sky is suppressed in anxiety, where clouds darn wails but your lips etch a rainbow over horizons that are dipped in midnight scrutiny.
Your smile is a lie as explicit as the eternity of autumnal leaves deceptive yet crucial to transpire, an amalgamation of ache and sentiments wrapping the truth in veiled reveries like ashes preserved from the burning fire.
Your smile is a lie like the sun that rise to slumber till evening, that weave hope from moments like picking out meaning from idioms. It's an arrow to my fragility some days but today it's the charm of my poetry. ~Purva
Let me tell you, about my muse - a woman festooned with bloomed lilacs, her hairs unfurling into mauve sky and womb embroidered of pastured lands.
She's the concoction of earthly being and celestial entity, liberating moon to wander in liberty. When sun sets in her palms and metropolis thud onto shores, birds inhabit betwixt her ravines in plurality.
The reveries you paint on stars are tapestries of her, which gets plucked into meteors to stitch each hue breezing into existence. On empty lanes beneath the clear sky, she stands as sunlight and not a streetlight, illuminating boulevards of bleak divergence.
There blows a soft wind which bereaves your anxiety when exhaled smog of chimneys ebbs out of her lungs. Unaware of industrial kissed zephyr, she nurtures her field with nightingale melodies and a mother's crooning rhythm.
Some days, she's a rural mosaic unfathomable as poetry. Some days, she's a typhoon which can't be fathomed for eternity. ~Purva
When clouds sing elegies and the wall at your home is flaunted by another frame- work, I flow down your eyes and rub salt over your bones. I rejuvenate pain liberating hope into a wineglass and entitle your poetic seclusion.
Evaporation may suck you out, but I'll condense nostalgic embrace over your parched soul. When your dreams start setting and valour fade into dark pastels of night, I'll rise like a sun to impregnate you with cemented light.
Your ribcage is a silver array cobwebbed of sadistic letters from a stranger, banning joy, grief is my ultimate existence. Your lover is a traitor, make me a forever. I'll kiss your scars even though I'm step-womb of your vengeance.
I'm not a parasite, a carrier of mutualism succouring the war you're fighting alone. I'm a mayhem of disgrace finding an abode in you, but I'll leave my home, the day you learn to stand on your own. ~Purva