What will it be like to be dead?
I imagine peace
But not the sort that makes you pretend
I imagine comfort
But not the sort that makes you crave action
I imagine oneness,
But not the kind that makes you feel lost
I imagine silence.
But not the type that makes you crave noise
I imagine stillness
But not the type that makes you restless
I imagine emptiness
But not the type that makes you feel alone
I imagine nothingness
But not the kind that makes you hungry for stuff
I imagine
And then, I do not

There were days
when I just know,
that it is not any better
than the last summer
or even the first
day of this year.

if I stay within this
circle of fear,
and waiting for the
blizzard to be out of here.

I will forever remain
a raindrop, instead of thunder.

and tell me
how it feels like
returning to the suburbia
walking past couples
eating chilly popsicles
from each others’ hands
while kids fall on the pavements
not a worry, not a melee
as the first full moon
overlooking us
beyond the double pulses
built at the epicentre
witnessing all of the
wild, harsh river flows
that taught us life
I am not the melodramatic aristocrat
you are the forgetful, envious plutocrat
will you make it through January
when I still linger with December?

you would know that only answer.

If you score it like baseball,
It’s nothing,
A perfect game
For both parties,
A marathon
With no ribbon at the end.
I’ll push that rock up the mountain,
But it always rolls away.
Playing tennis with a wall
Often ends in self defeat,
But I get lost in the heat
Of competition.
I have a premonition
That I’ll break it down,
Chip by chip,
Brick by brick,
But rubber’s got nothing
On masonry.

Aching chambers
Sullen froths
The raven angers
As hope is lost
Consumed oh hallowed mind
As the feeble and broken, cried

Beneath empty boardwalks
Townsmen bleeded across
Still I find myself in gawk
As the dawn of man drew close
Reality found me encased
In an existence duly erased

"Im the only one here right?"
Says a feminine voice
It was of a lost lover
To whom I never knew.

In a plane of consciousness
Submerged in repose
I sat there, cornered, enthralled
A living dream I am in
A dream I never arose.