I quested for an answer—
To a sentence quizzed by you.
I replied with pompous pride,
Yet failed to see it through;
Little did I know…
The answer was you.

Like clay baked
To become a vase.
I endured this fleeting blaze.
Silently,  yet burning out.
In a kiln—
Fueled by your thoughts.
Whistling my smoking agony out.

Healing through pottery
Healing through verses
Am I really healing
from this love curse?

She once asked—
The question; a hard test.
How can one move on?
After showering on somebody
Nothing but the best...

I can't even move on
When I showered nothing
Since for me,
You are the best.
You will be the best.
The adorning vase—
From that burning cage.
Built with blisters on my hand
Pressing against my wounded heart..
Ailing from madness and pain