Best Man

I lay awake still, sleepless, it seems like centuries

And there she was, beside me, naked, wet and pleased.

We rolled, brawled and crawled, with our sealed lips

Till the last thrust of mine into her, from the time we kissed.

It shouldn’t be this way; it never meant to be this way

It feels so deliciously guilty, so deviously wrong

Unwantedly, unaware, as I walked into her today.

There she was, on the bed and in her thong

I was speechless, so was she, or was she?

Cause her scared and sexy eyes were so loud

They were speaking thousands of words, to me

And I spoke back, without a word, without a sound

There was a knock at the door, they were all here.

They were eagerly waiting for her to get dressed and hurry

As the priest and the groom waiting, for her, the bride dear

And in my head, it was all so vague and blurry.

I couldn’t look at her, when she walked down the aisle

I couldn’t look at her, when she kissed him and stood beside

All I did was nodding like wise man with nervous smile

Being the Best Man of my friend and lover of his bride.

Sweet Love?

She was cute, young and tender, nineteen or so

And her eyes were dark and deep, playfully inviting

Used to smile with her lips closed, keeping her voice low

At every opportunity she was teasing and taunting

 

I was fool enough, to be played a fool, in fool’s world

Couldn’t read between the lines, couldn’t see the sign

They were so obvious; they were so clear, yet so blurred

And I was hopelessly hoping, to dance together in the rain

 

As I started to feel, feelings are not been felt the same way

I found the heart, was about to be hurt and to be played with

It was time for retreat; it was time to make way and look away

And to forget all my burning desire, passion and heat

 

Cause all she wanted was love and all I had for her, was lust

When she felt my lips on her, when she felt my hands on her

And I still know the moment, when she pushed and thrust

With tears in her eyes, I saw her, walking away far, so far.

 

 

I, trapped in Myself, in Me

So I was not really trying hard to see things fine

I was not trying to make things look good again

As it’s always been, so easily broken and thrown away

And at ease they are drifting and fading day by day

Dreaming big and falling apart has become a habit

A debt ridden soul is sinking slowly but surely

Chances are as bleak as it seems, there is no way-outs

Part of my life now, disturbing facts and underlying doubts

What I want from me, what I need from myself

Perhaps all I wanted to be is nothing I needed to be

So I walk by all my wishes and desire, ignoring them

Knowing that. Ever again, they won’t be the same.

The fool in me is hoping again, dreaming again

All set to fall flat on its face and get back on its feet again

The shrewd one whispers in its ear, “As far as I can see,

I am trapped in myself, I am trapped in ME”.

Dead poet and his verse

The poet is dead, long live the poet.

So some are happy and some are sad.

As he won’t write his thoughts anymore.

As he won’t sing those truths anymore.

And few said, he died so young, died so soon.

Others snapped in, as they never liked his tune.

The king is happy and so his men.

As they never liked to be challenged in their own den.

How he died it’s still a mystery, still unknown.

Some say by sword, some say by poison.

Yet I know all about, because the dead never lie.

Its verse which left him, left the poet in me to die.

The One

As I lose my self a little every day, I dream on to become the one

As I walk on this path all alone day by day, till I am done

And how I mock myself again and again, the other me just watch

A few blur memories though, make me feel the sweet touch

So I deal with things, which have gone wrong, things I have done wrong

I look back and I see me, the same old me singing, the same old song

How good things would be, how good I should be

Unpacked thoughts and inconvenient lies, an awkward mind in me.

Comfortable pain or desirable death, they confuse me every time.

As life plays on and we all play along, just like mimes

I am out to find answers but the questions are so incomplete

Like all the dead puzzles came alive and back on their feet.

As I live myself a little every day, to make myself the one

As I trip and fall everyday on this path, watch my bruises burn

And how I push myself over and over, the other me makes fun

I smile at him and continue to live, as I am, still undone.