A Queen in His Dynasty

The truth was I always wanted to be a virgin in his dreams--an undiscovered treasure. I wished to be layered in such diffidence and urbanity that even no words could smell of my fragrance. I longed each day we exchanged glances , the time takes pace and beats its drums so hard, that no salutations between me and him take place.
How many times i saw him lowering his gaze finding my demeanour from the corner of his eyes? Ask me not.If i dared narrate the day will fade. It was not disgust, nor my boastful feminine pride which hulked around his shadow rather i wanted this love to be pure in the realms of cherubic earth. i left him no chance to scribble a word on his lips. Each time he mustered up courage , i shattered all his plans, his passions for me whenever rose, i closed all my heart's doors. I can swear on heaven i was his fantasy queen. In his thousand hours of solitude for a million times he used to write and erase only my name on his cell phone.

Soldier by profession , he was fighting two wars, one with the warlords and the second with his impatient heart.

I could picture how his lashes had battered full of tremor , his hair clenched by fists and his tongue must had savoured the salt of his own blood dropping from his lips after being bitten by his own teeth. He was on the maze whose roads were turned more angular and twisted by me. I was rejoiced to reign his brain while he was frustrated to turn into a moth as he had seen several times the burnt ashes of moth forming geometrical patterns on the rug woven with saffron threads, in the lantern lighted dull room.

The years passed by and my ignorance underrated his emotions. The time indeed waits for none, his clock turned still. A bullet pierced through his chest and the soldier met the cradle earth locking me in his heart.

. Both of us won, He wanted to be my favourite memory and i always whimed to be an alone queen in his dynasty.

You Could not Recognize me

A feather was there to tickle your intellect Somebody has watered your frosty flower errect Your starless nights were lit with lemon lamps To get you braced from blues of bogs and greens of swamps But you could not recognize me...

Around assembled dignitaries of peer-blossoms and daisies I petalled your thorns with straws of orange roses Once your streets were arid and spurned How many times for your lonesome nights , glow-worm i turned? But you could not recognize me...

I promulgate your song on breeze of spring Whenever your southern sky in scarlet sea sinks To keep your name alive on sandy sea shore, All my life i accepted to be minion to wave's white foams But you could not recognize me...

Sun's first ray has etched your profile Your alleys and shady avenues are perfectly Bright All is complete, your exuding pride, your imperial fame Not even foot note in your book has my name But you could not recognize me...

My Road's Crippled Landscape

Snow flakes in slew are on morning strolls

The thickets smell of fledging owls

And Howls play harp on the gust of wind

A mighty roar of silence jingle and sing

Upon the roads i travelled the most

The pitter pattering clouds

Raise no rain but hammering hails.

My aisles of pain have steeled the scarlet sun

The spring around my night's globe has went passed

The lakes are dried, their curtains are burnt

As the crippled landscape of my roads

Promised me to paint the story of my soul

My merciless wounds infected it and poisoned it

Now a mirror i am turned,

Its more like me i can sense;

Nor it can die

Neither it can survive

An Eleventh Birthday Cake

The last candle snuffed out and the heightened heap of smoke blurred her eyes. The smoke was not a residue that burnt her past ten years rather it was a veil bowling her current tottered existence and screening her eclipsed future.
The smoke has kissed goodbye, but do the bygone things and people have cloistered existence? No, she mumbled with a flabbergasted blink of a profound eye and left the answers in the mid-end as she was in habitual of not setting her pearls ashore.
The eleventh elf held a knife to cut the birthday cake but she was startled. The green, gooey  and glossy cake appeared to her eyes as a haunting circle holding taut rope of her wounded past. The circle reminded her of  a jungle's territory where men instate their carnivorous strolls enslaving women inside deep copper gorges beneath the pewter sky.
She blew the flecks of dust off her shirt and then the sight of  her own muscular round navel gave her the realization that her dirt was  still newfangled and virgin as the vultered eyed beast had thrusted upon her an eternal abashed venom. She wished to chop each muscle of her face that reflected like a resplendent diamond from the beast's eyes.
She jerked, pushed and shivered to have a safe return from the island of nameless faces but life is an eclipsed corridor with all the corners lit by wane moon.
The cake , the smoke and the knife were all glove in hand to mow her down. Panic seized her, shrivelled all her innards. She began to mewl under her breath and felt herself on the cusp of screaming.
The poor creature curled from her finger and thumb number nine and held in her right hand the knife to cut the cake of her eleventh birthday. She stood motionless like a frozen twig which exchanges happy furtive glances with the defoliating autumnal tree.
She rushed to the cake and burried the though of cutting it in seven-inched grave." Boundaries once crossed always carry the traces of your foes no matter then your enemy is spear less, bullet less or armour less, she heaved a sigh and cupped her cake in a stronger cuddle more stronger than the one he gave to her while starting bloody bouts.

'Cloudy Vintage'

My petition was answered, And all prayers were approved. On the Sky, for few Hours was indited my name. Alphabets were ironed heavy To sink white floe, To clandestine gossamery mossy growth.

Frothy grey bubbles of wool Ribboned my name's hillock in blue Black feathers of cotton Enveloped the celestial moon And the novas once bright With cobalt pearls, were girdled tight

Blacks on blacks Saphhires on blues Doubled to twos

Around my name Multitudes of mist cloaked by I saw nothing My own name i could never recognize

While i was drinking hemlock From dark flask of cloud's butter milk My farsightedness dropped Drop by drop The Single hour In endless toil but passed

Thou blessed me Sun Thou blessed me Moon Thou blessed me beams When Thou was offering me recompenses Alas! the ethreal light was asleep on the job

"A Dream Killer"

I have burnt that gleeful threshold From where you first stepped to my bosom's door I have spilled amber, indigo and Violet To the Virgin White page which winter never frosted I have bowed with copper ropes Those Chapters, where your name had abode Through time and time... To Love is a Crime...

With a dagger i have sliced your wreaths, garlands and bracelets Which used to veil my sun-burnt-Blotches With the Snake skin spear all dreams i have beheaded The Erudite tongue, the dauntless lips all i butchered In The isle of Nameless faces Yes i have thrown your smoggy traces Through time and time... To love is a Crime...

I have paid a pittance To buy my lords Contentment... My Dream no more bleed... Nor it breathe... When livings around me are fearful to come near My Dream's ghost wipe with his blood my invisible tears Through time and time.... To Love is a Crime.....