Run away from me

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​As bright as lightning

You now get to see.. 

The truth bared out 

From underneath.

For, I’m an unwanted scar

On the jabberwocky’s flawless skin;

I’m the scorching heat

That the fire emanates from within.

I’m only a tiny black patch;

Sucking up all of the light left.

I now rule; the sun is now conquerable;

Mountains are uprooted and blown adrift.

I’m the chunk of cigarette you just smoked;

Waiting to see your last chronic cough.

I’m the abandoned venomous needle in the dunes of Sahara.

Waiting to prick you dead and make off.

I’m the edge of a sword;

I crave blood.

I’m buried in the pit of hell;

To swallow you up into a world of dread.

I’m like a white snow flake;

Beautiful, yet bringing the deadly chill of the Arctic.

I now rule; the sun is now conquerable;

Mountains are uprooted and blown adrift.

As clear as crystal,

Did I reveal myself to you.

All you need to do now is run far away,

Or until the end, remain true.

And now, sunlight is all you will see.

And the world is finally left to be.

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Friends stay, don’t they?

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​Friends stay.

Even when you don’t know what you’re doing,

And you cut your hand in a ceiling fan,

And when you get admitted in a hospital,

Even if it takes a lot of time,

Even when you have no patience,

Even if they have to stay up all night,

Even when you complain about the green costume,

And when you undergo surgery,

And you can’t eat by yourself,

Even when you put them through hard times,

And you bother them all the time,

When you need them by your side all day,

Friends stay.

_________

Okay, I cut the back of my palm as I accidentally put my hand in the ceiling fan a few days ago. And my roommates took such great care of me the last two days that they deserve much, much more than this, but all I can give them in return is this poem. 

P.S: I hated the green outfit they gave me… so much.

My inner demons

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Warning: the poem is dark.

I ran in the darkness, not knowing where I was going
My feet were bleeding; it was the work of thorns and sharp stones
I still ran, because I felt I should
Else, something was going to eat me alive.

I ran amidst trees that waved their huge branches about like crazy
In an attempt to catch me
I ran as the wind beat against my face, slapping my cheeks
As though punishing for all my crimes.

I ran, as the moon refused to come to my rescue
Without even an ounce of moonlight.
I ran, as the cries from behind became louder
And were now closing in on me.

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me
Never giving up;
I ran… without knowing.. that ahead of me
Were the ugliest of spirits waiting to suck my soul out

I came to a halt as I saw what was ahead of me:
Hungry spirits and pointy teeth.
They were coming for me;
My head reeled.

But before I fell,
I felt a hundred shiny black hands catch me from behind
The very ones I had been running from.
They had finally gotten me.

I could see the black, pointy nails of a hand closing in on my throat
I felt my brain give away;
And just like that,
I was falling into oblivion.

As I was falling into the bottomless hole from which I could never return,
I knew..
That although I had countless people I held dear,
There wasn’t one name I could call out to.

The truth is,
There will never be a person you can trust
Unless it’s your own self.
As I realize this, the shiny black hands leave me alone and disappear.

Freedom.

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Hey folks! 🙂 Happy independence day to all the Indians out there. I’ve written a poem in memory of all the people who were responsible for our freedom.

It must have hurt

Enduring the cane strikes

It must have hurt

With every droplet of blood oozing out

It must have hurt

To starve and starve, and still shout slogans

It must have hurt

To have constantly thought of freedom

It must have hurt

To stay imprisoned behind those cruel bars

It must have hurt

To see fellow Indians suffer the same

It must have hurt

To stand firm and fight, while still weak

It must have hurt

To sacrifice one’s life for India’s freedom

But they did it anyway.

A big salute to all of them. Jai Hind!

Underneath.

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Hello again, folks! It’s Friday night, and I stayed up late, facebooked, and then… wrote a poem! Here it is!

Underneath the merciless rashes,

Underneath the auburn scars,

Underneath the pointy freckles,

Underneath the mask of pain,

Is a golden heart you may fail to see.

Underneath the immature facade,

Underneath the irresponsible behavior,

Underneath the freakishly bold laughter,

Underneath the adamant resolutions,

Is an innocent child you may fail to see.

Underneath the red-hot anger,

Underneath the trembling fingers,

Underneath the sorrow, the grief,

Underneath the eyes brimming with tears,

Is love you may never quite see.

You.

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Here’s a poem I wrote today.. it’s a bit dark, but oh well!

The sky was pitch black,

The path ahead, stony and rough;

But I knew, that on the other side

Were you.

I climbed the rocky mountains,

Wiped my blood-drenched feet, shook away the thorns

And hurried despite the terror shaking me

For you.

Petrified as I was, my skin looked pale,

My hands were sweaty, and yet

There was nothing in my mind

But you.

I hurried past the wind, past the storm,

Past the spine-chilling cries from the dark,

Past the scary, barren lands

Towards you.

I searched and searched, but to no avail;

The shadows were now closing in on me, shrieking.

I must be terrified – I  was going to die – but all I felt was that I…

Lost you.

And as the devils tore me apart,

I realized that you never once were mine to begin with;

And yet, even until my last breath, I never stopped

Loving you.

That Stormy Night

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Here’s another limerick from me. After a long time, of course.

The howling wolves, hooting owls, and the mummies that rise

Taking delight in the stormy night, with their bone-chilling cries

Made her wish she never left home

Finally, she decided going back on her own

But the shiny pair of eyes in the tree bark told her otherwise.

Rebels of the Romans

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Written on the last day of NaPoWriMo:

I tried merging a war scene with poetry, and I think it has ruined the ‘poetic’ aspect in the poem, but here it is anyway. I had to try something new.

Mounting onto their horses, they rode ferociously

They knew they had to resist the Romans;

Catevellauni as they were, ‘the brave warriors’

Spilled out on either side, encasing the brutes within.

Arming themselves with every last spear,

And stripping themselves of clothing;

Coating themselves with a sea blue dye,

They lashed out at their foes, like the waves of an ocean.

Their united army looked like a gargantuan beast

One that cannot be slain with a single cut.

The foes looked red, what with their uniforms,

And retaliated with all their might.

Though their foes were outnumbered,

The army in red had a determination so strong.

They had great weapons, great brains

And had a silver spoon while they were born.

The Catevellauni were all rough lads

They were hunters, peasants and merchants.

While the mighty Roman legions had

Only those who fought well – warriors.

The Catevellauni charged forward

And shocked the entrapped Romans with sharp daggers.

The Romans hurled back flame-arrows

To protect their own skin.

The Iceni marched out of nowhere,

Into the human walls that encased the foes,

Where the Romans took out their arrows

In fear of losing their lives.

The javelins of the Iceni

Were strong and caused chaos.

The combined forces of the Catuvellauni and the Iceni

Put the Romans down.

And like barbarians did they celebrate

When they finally won the war.

It was the beginning of a new millennium,

And it had to start with war.

The wild Britons loved freedom

And so the Catevellauni and Iceni went to hunt

Later, the Venicones and Silures joined them

For the victory party.

Note: The Catuvellauni, Iceni, Venicones, Silures, etc are the british tribes (Britons) that fought against the Roman rule in England before 43 AD (before the establishment of the Roman rule in Britain — in AD 43 or so).

Additional info you may like to know: The Romans were civilized, while the Britons still led barbaric lives. They used some kind of dye to coat themselves with before waging war, to frighten their enemies. The Romans were the ones who used the sturdy tortoise formation to stand united against their enemies — the one that Amish has written about in his ‘Shiva trilogy’.

The British tribes along with the ones in Gaul (modern-day France) were called the ‘Celts’. Celtic languages are still spoken in Ireland, but my guess is that the original Celtic languages might’ve gone through a lot of transformations.

And yes, history is interesting. 🙂 Do read some.

The university I got to call mine

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Yesterday’s contribution for NaPoWriMo:

You were there, everyday

You were there, every minute

You gave me comfort,

You gave me shade.

You amused me with your astounding architecture

Of your labyrinthine corridors

And marble-white stairways

You were there

When I needed you,

When I felt lost.

You were there

To change my gloomy day

Into a busy one.

You kept me occupied,

You let me dream.

You tossed a few friends my way,

And good ones, at that.

You gave me the strength

To stand on a dais and blabber.

You told me where I was weak,

You made me assess myself.

You gave me a job,

You gave me your love,

And at last, you told me it’s all over.

Now I know I have to go.

With a reluctant goodbye,

I shall go.