Prevails the monotonous rhythm ,

whence drags the mind

the fettering body to duties unattended

lonesome soul

tired limbs

dreary mind

how much to pull and get off the plight…

a page is torn

lying on the floor

it mocks every tile of the loss

and cries heaven

to flood the earth more…

numb the senses, mute is the voice

Alas! The wails of a dying soul aren’t heard outside.


“Ego & Love “


“fidgety fretful , always had been his heart
he threw tantrums whilst, love wept and scattered like shards
stamping arrogance he displayed
in a corner few tears she shed…
a silver bowl that bedecked
overflowed with pearls

what a paradox
epiphany in delusion
he flaunts false pride
of translucent treasures
in possession
while she drinks with her palm
an incessant intoxicating ale
from the open wounds of
her chafed heart ,
with a smile gentle…”

the random conversation
misty eyes
choked voice
in midst of inner chaotic silence
affirmative or prerogative
one word replies
emotions suffocated
strangled in a knot
the lily beside, pleaded
few more moments sought
hesitatingly I nodded
lone will be the journey
lone will be the path
under the blue
as two souls walk apart.

“My Life ain’t a stage “

Endlessly my heart cried
eyes searching frantically in vain
“where art thou”
behind the curtain of life
is anything true or is all disdain?
My life ain’t a stage
neither I a performer to enact or flaunt
in mystical attire as perceived everyone
..I ,a mere soul
wish to be a lotus
blooming in the mud
admiring the sparkling moon afar
from the altar…
Allow me to be my real self
I neither wish to be a actor
nor my life a theatre…
Spare me O! world
from the pangs of hypocrisy
from the rings of falsity
let me break away from the glitter of gold and
tinkling of coins
I’m a mere soul
elated amidst nature
blissfully admiring eternal creation
I live for love and affection.


Often you picked choicest of words
from the cluster of flowers of my blossomed garden
they fragrance of altruism
Pick pocketing the few saved pennies of thoughts
from the remuneration of my expressions
which loved to jingle
in the profundity of
my creation
snatching the ideologies
presenting in the coterie
bouquet of compliments, applause,
awaits at your doorstep
with bestowed honour

a swindler,
a weak feeble warrior in life
how do I call you
a mere
borrower of emotions?



I have lost my pen

its nib – golden

once scribbled ceaselessly

while the world retired

to the cushion of comfort every night

the quill loved to brush against the papyrus…


leaking on blank pages

the painful emotions

which were witness of sordid transitions


yet as a powerful weapon

narrating every encounter thus illegal…


where is the indite

where’s the instrument

the sword -that sliced reality

spear- which pierced the raw veins

dagger – which wounded the cold heart

as a potion for lovers

and deadly poison

for hypocrites

lost somewhere

… help me ,find my pen

Tis’ lost somewhere

in the desert.

Tireless eyes-

Tireless eyes–

watch the setting sun’s scarlet mask

a young morn, enfurling petals

The lonesome cacti in sordid desert

orchids blossoming as fragranced love in cold hearts of summer…

What if they become tired and close for few moments

Nay! The noisy chaotic shimmer of dutibound survival

shall enforce them to be wide open…

not long to reach their goal

The pair of epic witness

thus shall retire

Ne’er again …

the world would look beautiful

when those pretty eyes  close

the curtain forever…

Copyright @ SoumyaV2015