The Chaos

Obsessing over all of it to pass by,
Whining about it with a perpetual cry.
Patience running out of breath,
Calm getting splattered with wave of wrath,
The hand falling limbs to the sides,
Just like a lifeless branch fallen from the paradise.
The storm of emotions whirling inside me,
Words getting lost in the babbling to breaths in no glee,
The silence falls like a white sheet of snow,
The never ending gloom gets replaced with a glow,
When the soul saving hug wraps in its blanket,
Just like daylight fighting the clouds of frantic.
The sunshine crosses the green field of the soul,
The flowers never wanting to again smell foul,
The calmness becomes so deafening,
Lost, gets the sound of evil returning.

Boxes of memories

I was watching as my boxes were getting loaded in a truck,

leaving the old town, I was about to leave my life’s big chunk.

First came the box of innocence,

Which was filled idiotic nuisance.

Babbling of child, pretty beautiful dolls,

Volcanoes of laughter erupting through the halls.

Then came the box of conceit maturity,

The arrival of which marked the absence of purity.

Sobs, yelling, bruises and crumpling relations,

Pride inflaming the flames of deafening hesitations.

One after the other came the boxes of oblivious memories,

Going down the lane of nostalgia, blew a different breeze.

Some small boxes, some large, some fragile,

Took the turns towards various aisles.

Some unbreakable, some full of lies,

I bid my final goodbye to the house of eyes.

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