A Presentiment

my dear,

I shall pass far away from this world. I will be gone, probably in a blink. Like the burst of a balloon, all that I hold within shall in a moment be dispersed in to thin air and as the embodiment rots away, I shall appear before you in a clumsy dream of reminiscence. You will say what a good heart I was.
In to you I shall assimilate from merely being an object that seemed perpetually dotting the scenes in front of you, I shall turn in to a thought forever accompanying , yet hidden away. My silent voice will speak to you but your roars I will not hear. You will wish for solitude, but you will still see my smiling face in the darkest cellars of your mind even when you lie up on the altars of time. I shall be there to suck out every iota of wit in your psyche. Then your decomposed mind shall not see anymore of the phantom stirring up all the bloody emotions that haunt but it will see the darkest sides of yourself. There you would want to scream as your sanity will then be torn apart as I weigh myself fully up on your chest constricting you of your dear life, unable to thrust your lungs forward you will want to know the smell of air. Yet, not even a touch I would have landed on you. You would move an elephant as you inhale and you will feel it bounce up on you as you let loose your diaphragm. In an attempt to rest it all, you would try to enjoy the pain.
Your combusted mind will not flourish anymore; I would no more be there. In the somber lull of your song sans my accompaniment, I shall cease. This shall be the requiem in my name. I shall have gone far and beyond and I will wait, cunningly beneath the sediments of your life, to surface again, to be born again and to die again and in between be drenched in your blood.

Forever yours,
The love you devoured.

Tete a tete

I have a visitor, unsolicited,
In spite of my asking, she stays on.
Her half veiled face shows every day.
By twilight she comes,
We drink to our solitude,
Reminisce of some forgotten days,
Of some forgotten face.
We walk through those old roads,
That had left us desolate.
We do not hold back, we speak.
I want her to know that I was right,
She too reasons,
Deep down, yet qualmish we remain.
Probably that ounce is for another evening,
Probably for another drink.
I donot want her here,
Neither does she want me,
Where else do we go, but here.

The west sky is painted red,
They have started making love,
My past and my present.
The two remain unsolicited,
Yet they are here, where else can they go?

The Couplet

There was a paper, in it was a couplet,
Themed of all arrows that struck the heart,
It lay in dust, I think almost at sunset,
In to two it was torn.

Putting the pieces together, I tried.
But the lines between the lines,
I found it veiled, in every stride;
And in ashes, they seemed fine.

A Fantasy

I was once asked thus,
If you were born a kite,
What would you wish?

I thought,
Be washed in the breeze,
Caress the air,
Kiss the clouds.

I said,
I would like to fly,
Not be flown.