a page from his diary,

Let me hold you,
Sweep you in my arms,
Look into your curious eyes,
And touch your trembling lips.

Let me be there,
Drooling over your heavenly voice,
Tickle your godly tender body,
And kiss your irresistible neckline.

Let me be lost,
Tangled in your locks of hair,
Confused by your innocent charm,
And leave behind the world with you.

Let me be myself,
Resting in your proximity,
Apprehending every breath you take,
And be that kid I always wanted to be.

She laughs a ton and cries a pool,
Either one after a few jugs of beer,
A true dude among the regular dudettes,
The girl next door living with her own fears!

She braves the world, this bloody teeming place,
Successfully keeping her wishes and dreams still alive,
An art I truly wish to miraculously master someday,
Provided this world would first let me at least survive!

She dreams of love and a few other things I can't divulge,
Among them a wish of eloping, probably somewhere quiet,
'Cause she hates the traffic and the crossing of streets,
And the modern transport (bikes) do give her a fright!

She smiles, oh yes, very much often too indeed,
But let it not mask the red hot rage burning inside,
Sudden slaps and brutal punches are her specialty,
And no, there is no rule of fighting to which she abides!

From a distance I watch, 'cause she is not exactly next door,
Listening quietly, not a word more do I wish to say,
From the distance I watch her smile, clueless why,
But the fact that she does, is enough for her everyday,
That girl, that girl interrupted, anyways, happy birthday!

I don't keep looking back at what I long left behind,
I trust ashes of my memories must have been blown away,
"May he rest in peace", probably was not even whispered,
"Dead and hence forgotten" is the new mantra anyway!

But once in a while the vengeful me tends to rise from the dead,
And with unsaid questions the distorted shadow knocks on my door,
"How could you move on and leave me there to rot and die,
When you knew I was a part of you which you mercilessly tore"?

Bathed in blood and tar, the dark sludge dripping from his body,
His eyes gloomy and murky, his lips sealed and stitched monstrously,
His hands burned and twisted, neither begging nor pointing,
He was just there, stolid, without remorse, motionless and lonely.

A part of me, yes, a part of my very own soul, my long lost self,
Born of the pieces chiseled out to keep myself untouched and pure,
And while I was too busy getting rid of this pain, I halved myself,
Oblivious of its everlasting consequences or its illusory cure!

Stranded at the far end of the street,
You feel the road could have just begun;
You turn around and start walking,
Towards the probable distant horizon!

Staring at the murky twilight outside,
You realize it could be the break of dawn;
You get out of your ridiculously cozy bed,
Thinking the day has not yet begun!

Sitting alone along the sandy lonesome beach,
You look at the foot prints right by your side,
You believe someone else could have come along too,
And possibly would have gone away for a ride!

Listening to the only song being played aloud,
You sense it could be all about you right now,
You notice its what you wrote a long time back,
As if you knew this would come true somehow!

Trying hard to believe all this to be about me,
I hear the distinct ring of the overhead wind chime,
And I smile at myself, "I am not dreaming,
At least not today, not this time"!

I am going home,
Where it all comes to an end.

Torn papers and stashed cards,
The anger and undying love in that;
Read letters and songs sung,
The cliche acts and pure emotions behind that;
Distances travelled and days waited,
The agony and joy of accomplishment of that;

I am coming home,
Yes, I am indeed.

Its neither about being a born sadist,
Nor turning a pessimistic with time.
Its neither called giving up the little hopes,
Nor can it be the undying fear of loss.
Its neither about the absence of of the dream,
Nor the presence of the disappointments.

Its neither about how sincerely you try or fight,
Nor is it whether others believe is right.
Its neither called being just another coward,
Nor can it be an alternative to struggle.
Its neither about getting lost amidst the faces,
Nor is it rediscovering yourself in any way.

Yet you will give up one day and accept the truth,
For once come face to face with the wretched reality.
Who was always there with a smug smile on his face,
And a curious few bunch of words for you at the end,
"You fail, you rise, and you continue trying again and again,
But how long do you think even you can survive that pain" ?

I just sit there, thinking,
Getting sad, and heart broken,
Feeling betrayed and suffocated,
Growing jealous, and happy,
All muddled up with a hint of pride.

But then my heart grows heavy,
And its weight keeps mounting up;
I struggle, trying to cut it down,
Desperate to cut off myself from me,
And throw its bits down with disdain.

I succeed, yes I do, just a little,
I always do, always have been,
But then whats left shamelessly stays,
As it has, since eternity, those bits.

Drop by drop an ocean becomes,
And so do I drown to the depths,
I don't swim, never knew either,
Just stay, motionless, not a sound,
And watch you, watch you grow,
See you go away, further away,
And as my vision fades, my senses rest,
I commit to the emptiness inside.