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I’ve watched your footsteps etched in the mud you tread seen in them the dreams you’ve heartlessly murdered dying, gasping for breath I’ve stayed close hidden away in corners though lest your shadows reveal mine to you I’ve inhaled your breaths tired and exhausted from the coffee mugs you leave behind my world is tilted…
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Long after the sun’s set I release a breath of self-proclaimed misery and let out all those dreams that couldn’t be true I let out a breath of restless hope as I prepare myself for the scarce crumbs of comfort that night brings on will I be in your arms again and cry a river,…
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जो साथ हों लेंतो अपने बगावत कर जायेंगेजो साथ न देंतो तुम्हारे गुनेहगार कह लाएंगेजो दिल की सुनेंतो दिमाग़ के दुश्मन बन जायेंगेऔर जो दिमाग़ की सुनेंतो अपने आप के न हो पाएंगेकैसी यह कश्मकश हैजाएं चाहे जिस भी रास्तेकिस्मत से तकरार तय है
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ग़म तो जनाबइस बात का है कीनिगाहों में जिनकी हमताउम्र रहना चाहते थेउन्हें नज़रों से गिरने मेंज़्यादा वक़्त न लगाहम सपने बुनते रह गएऔर वो दबे पाओं दग़ा दे गए
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I keep telling myselfit’s all rightto not have what I wantto not get what I craveto pine for what I deserveto lose what’s mineBut in realityI’m dyingof these meek attemptsof these fake comfortsof these suffocating breathsof living these sore liesI keep telling myselfthat I’m all rightbut a voice echoes from deep inside“you’re not, but you’ll…
Read More“I don’t allow myself
to doubt myself
even for a moment.”
यूँ बिन बताए आधी रात आनासब जान चुके हैंपरेशान हो चुके हैंअब शांत हो चुके हैंयूँ खिड़की से सीटियां मारनासब जान चुके हैंपरेशान हो चुके हैंअब हार चुके हैंवक़्त का खेल तो देखोकिस्मत पलटवार कर गयीअब जो जा चुकी हो तो सुनोख्यालों मेंयूँ बिन बताए न आया करोभूला चुका हूँ मैंहार चुका हूँ मैंयूँ दिलोदिमाग…
Read More“One ought,
every day at least,
to hear a little song,
read a good poem,
see a fine picture, and,
if it were possible,
to speak a few reasonable words.”
‘Tis not about ghosts and ghouls or dark and demons or scare and fear ‘Tis about sombre endings of lovers weeping ‘Tis about bittersweet feelings of stolen hugs and kisses of desperate promises 3 am is melancholic it is nostalgic it is needy but never scary.
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bright was the day once the tunnel was gone you don’t change the road but wait for the storm to pass ***** #badbookthiefpoetry Find a whole bunch of my pieces on Instagram. Just visit the link below.
Read More“Never forget what you are,
for surely the world will not.
Make it your strength.
Then it can never be your weakness.
Armour yourself in it,
and it will never be used to hurt you.”
January mused old wasn’t gold the time to come was one to behold * * * * * #badbookthiefpoetry Find a whole bunch of my pieces on Instagram. Just visit the link below.
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I wrote a letter and went to the post the fella didn’t take it said it was blank to the core I asked for a pen and looked for a spot but couldn’t manage anything more than a blot took it back to the post and he laughed at the dot so long you took…
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someday, my love we shall walk hand in hand down the golden shore up the hills so grand we shall marvel at a sky so blue and map fields far and few… someday, my love we shall let raindrops tickle our feet and arouse our senses with lasting ecstasies… someday, my love this distance won’t…
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शाम को जबपंछी घर लौटते हैंउन्हें देख दिल कोदिलासा दे देते हैंमेरा आंगन न सहीकिसीकी तो बगियाआज रोशन हुई
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amidst universes is where you are lost between infinities is where you are no beyond no back where you are time won’t lapse where you are no maps tell me where you are no roads reach thee where you are museum of ache is where you are burial of hopes is where you are I…
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these lips chant your name the cracks in them crave to be healed again * * * * * #badbookthiefpoetry Find a whole bunch of my pieces on Instagram. Just visit the link below.
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your memories cling to my very skin it is hard to tell where I end where you begin they crawl all over me sparing not an inch not even the air I breathe their whispers ring through autumns and springs my mind is tormented by the epiphanies they bring days dissolve into nights with such…
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they sat there freezing waiting for their coffees on a cold winter eve as time stood still whispering through mist promises they brewed and lived a thousand forevers that would never come true
Read More“The point is,
it didn’t really matter
what the book was about.
It was what it meant
that was important.”
Author: Shamar M. McFarlane | Genre: Poetry | Pages: 180 Fallen is a book that illuminates the idea of a loss of divinity or what we would call innocents. Every word, every line and every page means something different. They have the power to guide those who haven’t yet found their way but also can…
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Asha Seth 