Paper neath the pen,
Looks at me with a knowing smile,
Asks me the reason behind my facial expression.
Paper neath the ink,
Tells me it's okay, for haps can be wrong at times,
And for that, we are not to be blamed..
Words lay naked on papers to be read.
Words written in silence, in mute testimony
As whispering winds play with poetic woes
The amalgam of mellow serenades between our hearts
And the howling chilly sounds of sorrow...
And sonorous tunes played on Cupid's bow
Words lay naked on papers to be read.

I'll tell you what a dream's made of... The moment when a snowdrop windflower glistens against the Moonshine. An enchanting Ecstasy, a piece of mystic Paradise. Few prunella modularis' Chirps on a farsighted pine. Amalgam of feelings in an Exalted saint's disguise. It takes the air and moons on for none but a mislaid Joy. It yens for a lily-white daisy - the blood-red Dream. Then a fulminant Drift of fear and a winged-heart ally. That's how a dream open its eyes. But how it breaks is different than it could ever seem. A Cut of reality, pitiless Pain or glistening crimson Gleam, sorrow of Solitude and horror of Denial are different stories. It's like a funeral of Warmth that forbade the Cold. Funeral Of hope that shaped a shangri-la away from Trouble. A Dearth of tears on a mournful eve or when the night Trembles. The night whose hint is a long time but Wave is the year. And like a perpetually mazed sorrowful Twinkle in her eyes or when the Auburn Wisps whiten and when a coven of faeries Tumble down. When glossy Clouds of candyfloss glory flight afar. Because dewdrops are the games of morning-field of gazing grain - like Emeralds lolling down the bedewed blades of grass But there's a world dear, there's a world!


Last night I had a very bad dream about me failing in the exams again. I woke up at 3 in the morning and studied to satisfy the little frightened kid that lives inside me - like those oddballs I used to laugh at. Then the frightened child cowered in the corner of my bed and tried to sleep but just could not so I wrote those lines *points the index finger at the long-winded lines above*. I just had to do something with my sleepless night. To add to it, it was my exam today, Business Taxation. Business Taxation is my favorite subject and that is because of that awe-inspiring kind of professor. The exam did not go that well though. I was sad for a while but then I came out and found out that all my friends were rubbing their heads with a weird look on their faces and told me that it went horrible and all like all guys say after an exam. They said the topper will have to take the rest to Pizza Hut. And you know what, it'd be Ce or B.H. We are cool like that. I know I should not be fretting about it here and should be sitting next to my dad watching the match on TV or maybe I should be studying something for the next exam. Wait a second? Am I fretting? Nope! But I just can't feel it. A little misstep can make me feel so low.. I'm so tired.. I'm really tired. I want to sleep forever and a day! Someone slap me or something!

Today was incredulously dull. I felt oddly unstrained. Strange because, I have gotten back into the race... race where time begins to matter, the blood in your veins races with the hand of the clock face on your wall, cell phone, every screen, building - everywhere - every second. The tick tock reminds you of everything you must do before sleep and significantly, of curbing any further missteps that can throw you off balance and turn your world upside down.



I want to write it all and watch the flow of the ink and the thoughts of this glum mind, the black fluid and the glowering thoughts spread across the lily-white page in archaic bards' runes. Every move of the quill pen smooth and refined. Neat.  I want to. But,  I'm contagiously distressed so I will  just send the signals of distress over to you.

Not after very long, some people unlock their true selves when they are done pretending to be good (read: being what they are not). And how shamelessly they expose. Normally, there are chances that the smashingly flamboyant show of truthfulness at every step of a person has to do something with their inner trait called selfishness. Like today I saw a person opening up the real them. You! I don't really care you know but I have a problem with you. Notion is simple. I think people like you should not exist, your existence is something ridiculously absurd, it's beyond my understanding. The fact 'you exist' is a fact due to some serious technical error. "Your existence" is painful and dangerous to human race  Do this wonderful world a favor and please die. You broke a friend's heart, you treat people like trash and I can't be happy when one of my friends is not. Even if he weren't a friend, what you did to a person was totally unfair. I wish your would be half witted better half is a would be bald-headed gentleman but you're too blindly in love to notice that. I really hope you step on a Lego set barefooted. How I wish you have a writer's block workaday and especially during exams. I wish you suffer from the real insomnia. I wish you forget your admit card in your favorite subject's exam. I hope the last page of your favorite 1000 page novel is missing. I hope you write a poem and your favorite poet plagiarizes it. I hope you download the wrong torrent everytime you try to download Black Swan, you wanted my DVD right? Die! I hope there's no loo when you barely can stand. I hope your boyfriend dumps you for some Razia Bibi from Sialkot. I hope your daddy is in your bookface with fake account named Ryan Bieber and you don't know. I hope Mark Zuckerberg himself bans your ugly existence from bookface. I hope your driver hits on you nonstop. I hope you never see a shooting star. I hope you live a life without chocolates. I hope it rains dead crows on you. I know you wronged. We all do, but there's a limit, you cross it like you don't give a fudge. I really hope you make amends. I seriously do - not because I care for you or something. But because I care for the other people around you. Ugh. Enough attention.