How this **** fable instructs
And mocks! Here's the parody of that moral mousetrap
Set in the proverbs stitched on samplers
Approving chased girls who get them to a tree
And put on bark's nun-black

Habit which deflects
All amorous arrows. For to sheathe the ****** shape
In a scabbard of wood baffles pursuers,
Whether goat-thighed or god-haloed. Ever since that first Daphne
Switched her incomparable back

For a bay-tree hide, respect's
Twined to her hard limbs like ivy: the puritan lip
Cries: 'Celebrate Syrinx whose demurs
Won her the frog-colored skin, pale pith and watery
Bed of a reed. Look:

Pine-needle armor protects
Pitys from Pan's assault! And though age drop
Their leafy crowns, their fame soars,
Eclipsing Eva, Cleo and Helen of Troy:
For which of those would speak

For a fashion that constricts
White bodies in a wooden girdle, root to top
Unfaced, unformed, the ******-flowers
Shrouded to suckle darkness? Only they
Who keep cool and holy make

A sanctum to attract
Green virgins, consecrating limb and lip
To chastity's service: like prophets, like preachers,
They descant on the serene and seraphic beauty
Of virgins for virginity's sake.'

Be certain some such pact's
Been struck to keep all glory in the grip
Of ugly spinsters and barren sirs
As you etch on the inner window of your eye
This ****** on her rack:

She, ripe and unplucked, 's
Lain splayed too long in the tortuous boughs: overripe
Now, dour-faced, her fingers
Stiff as twigs, her body woodenly
Askew, she'll ache and wake

Though doomsday bud. Neglect's
Given her lips that lemon-tasting droop:
Untongued, all beauty's bright juice sours.
Tree-twist will ape this gross anatomy
Till irony's bough break.

चल पड़ा हूँ रस्तों पे मैं, कहीं तो मेरा घर होगा,
ना ईंटों से, ना दीवारों से — बस वो जहाँ सुकून होगा।
हर मुसाफ़िर कुछ ढूँढता है, मैं भी अपनी तलाश में,
दिल कहे बस एक ठिकाना, जो हो मेरी ही आस में।
ढूंढूं मैं अपना सा वो एक जहाँ,
जहाँ होगा मेरे सपनों का वो एक कारवाँ।
ढूंढूं मैं अपना सा वो एक कारवाँ,
ढूंढूं मैं अपना सा वो एक कारवाँ।
कभी किसी चेहरे में ढूँढा, कभी किसी ख़्वाब के गाँव में,
वो सुकून, वो रौशनी जो छुपा है मेरी ही आवाज़ में।
कोई रास्ता पूछे मुझसे, मैं खुद सफ़र में खोया हूँ,
ना मंज़िल का नाम पता है, ना जाने क्या खोया हूँ।
चाहत उसकी मेरे दिल में कुछ ऐसी है,
खड़े आसमानों में उड़ते परिंदे जैसी है।
चाहते हैं...
चाहते हैं...
चाहते हैं...
हर साया मुझे उसका लगे, हर राह पे उसका नाम लिखूं,
जिसे कभी देखा नहीं, फिर भी मैं हर साँस में ज़िक्र करूं।
ये दिल भी अजनबी सा है, ये जहाँ भी अधूरा सा,
कहीं तो होगी वो ज़मीन, जो लगे मुझे पूरा सा।
वो घर मेरा कुछ अपना सा घर तो नहीं,
लेकिन एक सुनहरे सपना सा।
शायद वो घर कोई चेहरा है, या कोई ठंडी शाम कहीं,
जो थाम ले मेरा हाथ यूँ, जैसे मैं कोई खोया नाम कहीं।
जब मिल जाएगा वो ठिकाना, साँसों में बह जाएगी धुन,
घर मिल जाएगा उस दिन, जब लगेगा — मैं हूँ मैं, पूरा पूर्ण।

You watch me sleep like I belong to you.
Eyes in the dark, but your hands feel true.
You whisper sins behind locked doors
I beg for less, you give me more.
You're not here or there but your presence is everywhere.
Like smoke in my lungs, you're choking the air.
Your shadow sleeps in my skin at night
I flinch at the dark, but crave the bite. You're somewhere in the woods looking at me, every night at three thirty three.
I hear your boots on the bedroom floor,
But I never see you close the door.
Your breath wraps around my neck like prayer,
Holy and cruel
and I still don’t care. Take what you want, just don’t set me free,
Break me apart where no one can see.
I’m not scared of the dark
I’m scared of the light,
Cause only in shadows, you treat me right.
You are the ghost I ache to keep,
Haunting my hell, tucked into my sleep. Your name is carved between my thighs,
A secret shrine no prayer denies.
You pull me close like I’m your sin,
And beg to burn just to breathe me in.
You come in the dark, leave before the light,
A name I don't know, but a touch I can't fight.
You're nowhere by day, but I feel your stare,
My skin remembers what the moon won’t share.
A ghost with hands that make me bloom
You love me in silence, then vanish like perfume.
I don’t know your name, but you know my soul
And every night, you make me whole.

It begins in quiet pain, a whisper in place of screams,
not because the world is silent,
but because there's nothing left worth hearing.
The emptiness feels like it has shape now,
like silence that bites when no one watches.

Still, the world expects a smile.
You sit there, pretending you're whole,
while your own voice sinks under the weight of
everything that used to matter.