Forever lost...

A slip between the cup and the lip,
Seemed to have a rather tragic end,
He dreamed of romance, looked in a sacred casket,
Within two peoples hearts,
She dreamed of love for the world and lust for the wooers....

There were men who loved a piece of chunky meat,
Dreamed of devouring her flesh black and blue,
There were men who thought of true love,
A desire for her in the deepest of nights and a speck of light in the break of dawn,
Then there was her who was numb to it all...

The mighty fall of love proved to rather melancholic after all,
A battle between instinct and acquired taste,
Swirling within the wind of hopes and dreams,
Which paints a rather perfect image,
Not too far from the truth not too close to impulsive perception...

This magic potion was cursed by the demons hands,
Saw it create love and wanted to tear it apart,
Used its broken pieces to wipe its tears,
Used its changing colors to soothe its needs,
Locked it away and denied its consumption to its creators...

The curse of lost love has diverged from its path,
Soon to find it again,
Shall find those who seek the burning ray of passion,
Shall shrike lovers just to created a void,
Of days lived many times over and lone nights...

Blur...

As I walk through a placid moment of time,
Amidst war, joy and destruction,
Locked in moments of chaos,
Right before I start another life within my lifetime..

As they walked, they assosiated and dissosiated,
Common scenario of nature,
As they nurtured their individualistic response,
As they dwell in their poker face...

As they forget to value their happy, one dimensional limbo,
Just before they get back to the world,
Souls they love and detest,
All morph into one...

A ghost of the past isn't is just a vivid memory afterall,
Disoriented to meet the demands of the present,
Showered with the stimulus of the present,
Strives to kill and heal its battlescars...

Classic Transperancy...

The sinister nights of war, 
When our regiment was equipped with artillery far from capable,
When our sense of well- being wept in agony,
Waiting to surrender to impending doom...

My fellow men begin to make peace with their gruesome destiny,
They begin to curse their inability to foresee, 
Every inch of their body accepting their vanquished controlled,
The subtle martyr has walked even further into the checkered shell...

We now wash our dirty lingerie,
In the muddy waters of solitude,
The residue speaks of grimy white lies,
Embodied with the spirit to rejuvenate the truth...

The infinitesimal transition withing limbo,
When we're suspended mid-air amidst other falling bodies,
Yet numerous turbulent times have gone by,
They now seem like events of another lifetime..

The persona which gloats is now silent with defeat,
Bonding with other mortals who bond with the end of an era,
The burden of trauma hovers within the pores of luck,
Harnessing the strength hidden within every catastrophic occurring...  

Glasnost...

A stroboscopic shadow of fear,
In the cistern of the battle,
Popped the cherry of this lonely heart,
In a nonchalant slumber...

In the rain of fury,
On the chair of passion,
In the armour of repentance,
The motility of religion...

A Casanova when basked with smiles,
In this secret crusade called love,
Oh obtrusive Padawan,
Don't fade when exposed to the rain...

To recognize the elevated mystery,
In this array to find passion,
When one day you shall see,
So many strings trying to get a hold to bliss...

So when the martyrs put up a fight,
So astringent with glee,
There's a certain steed that leads us to the stubborn fire and then cries,
You shall not be soothed with the steam of sycophancy.

Love bound in this wed of dreams,
Cheers to this dazed breed!
That black bolt that struck us at an accelerated pace,
So today, should I say peace or hallelujah?

Oh lord I see to know this creed,
Draped in the translucent colours of the mask,
They have the gleam of the sun,
Yet they're so lost in sinister lust...