The Mind of Anarchy

When lights peeps, from a crack beneath,
When you hear words spoken from trickling streams,
When you stand, beyond, between ice,
And wonder upon the next device.

I will meet you, then.

When all light is the one within,
When matters not your nearest kin,
When you quarrel yourself a few words new,
And sing in a hushed voice, alone.

I will meet you, then.

When memory reminds you not,
When you eye are open, shut.
When bathed in madness fire gasps,
Its last breath, then gone.

I will meet you, then.

When it matters not what skin you wear,
What pride you hold, what names you swear,
When it matters not what price you pay,
What deed you do, what filth you bear,
When it matters not what words you speak,
What your eyes on mirrors read.

I will meet you, then.

Don’t look past the smoke,
It never settles.
These mirrors do not lie,
They let you see.

Obscured to the eyes,
When your mind shall embrace-
the smoke, the mirrors,
the cloak, the daggers.
I will meet you, then.
The only question of that hour:

What are you, when it matters not who you are?

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My very first Post!!…..This is redundant

I don’t necessarily see the point of writing this. The Universe is ever expanding, hence, the importance of having a special post for the first post should be negligible. Every post should be special and every post the ‘first’ under some topic. Things are less liner and more web-like. So forgive me, I can’t write a first post. I will, however, endeavor to write a post which will be the most humble post and will fool you, always, into thinking that it’s not special.

By now you should have realized that this is decent nonsense.


The Ride we Never had

I went with you on the ride we never had,

Stole glances, when I thought you never knew,
The trees on our sides, sneaked by.
That lunch with you, we never ate,
I couldn’t help but smilingly hate,
Your shining eyes and repressed laughter,
I couldn’t help but hate ever after.
I saw you on the street,
But, no, it wasn’t you.
The timbre of your voice, rekindling anew,
Which spruce, could not again.
I looked to you, another day,
Your eye, a blazing red,
You never turned your gaze my way.
Muffled laughs and turned backs, the day.
I wonder if you look at me,
When you decide, I cannot see.
With hidden adore or hateful glare?
I wonder if you even care.
I met many during, the time we never had.
Some had your eyes, some your hair,
Your unexpressed mirth,your quite air.
I never stayed too long with any.
You called my name, but you never did,
My ears rang without a sound.
You never looked, and it never hurt,
I held no tears back, but they never came.

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