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Born This Way

So you are back at the same stop again,
Thinking about the same questions, still feeling the pain,

 

The mind singing, the pursuit, the pondering
The struggle, the loss, the wandering,

 

How to choose a path through so many choices?
How to find destiny through so many voices?

 

And the questions are never ending,
But I keep going on and pretending,

 

The fear of loss never leaves me alone,
Unable to let go someone who is gone,

 

And the empathy is out of control,
To the needy I want to give my all,

 

I once looked a man in his eyes and cried,
I feel for the living instead of the ones who died,

 

The suffering in world eats me inside,
Sometimes I want to join the rebels who defied,

 

The norms, the terrorists, the corrupts, the vip culture,
To slit their throats and open them up like a vulture,

 

Are these dark thoughts a necessarily evil?
Or find other ways to save the world that are more civil?

 

Why cant I stop hearing the screams?
Why do I suffer seeing those dreams?

 

Aaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrggggggggggg stop!
Stop before I drop,

 

The voices wont go away,
They are for life to stay,

 

Now open eyes and see the world in grey,
Put on that smile and be gay,

 

The light will shine on you as bright as day,
Be positive and stay away from fey,

 

Fidelity is hard, its easy to betray,
But Its your life, you were just born this way.

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Poems

Eenie, meanie, minie, mo,
Guess who’s back with a brand new poem, bro!   

And I dont mean poem as in words put in rhymes,
It has to have a meaning, a context, these are different times,

You get a thought in your head,
The deeper meaning of words said,

You think about the power of words in the message you send,
Sometimes following the rules, sometimes starting a new trend,

A poem is the singing of your mind,
Reflections on your current life and of what you left behind,

Its a timeless wonder, open to interpretation, an immortal being,
About your life, past, present and future, what your mind is seeing,

There is no limit on it, no one to hold you back,
The saints are extinct, there is no white and black,

The best poems are about existance, the human feeling,
What love and life gives, what loss and death are stealing,

Sometimes you write for others but sometimes it’s just for you,
Sometimes about the breakups and for the love which was true,

Sometimes about politics and issues of life,
Sometimes about happy endings and a loving wife,

Sometimes about desires and dreams,
Sometimes about the hurt and screams,

But the truth is that writing is your savior and grace,
It gets you through the hardships that you face.

Ascension

When the future is fogged in mist and the bridge is burnt, who do you turn to for help, who will be your savior now? You wander about mindlessly and lost, abandoned by everyone. You doubt your decisions, your choices, everything that brought you here, here at the end of world. You see the your life flash in front of your eyes, the memories, ah the memories. You pretend to have no regret but its a fasad, a defence mecchanism, a lie. You regret alot. When you look into your past you dont see yourself, atleast not the person you are now, you see some other guy, someone who is in peace and happy, whose mind isnt always racing, asking, pondering, questioning, going against the norms, no, no, you see a guy who followed his customs, his traditions, his social obligations, his religion, an activist, who used to make speeches in halls about patriotism and in mosque about purpose of life. It all seems a distant memory now. You are not what you used to be, you changed. In the beginning it was just for fun, you would start rhyming words and making poems from them, silly lines which made little to no sense, but you liked playing with words. The words made you feel special. But the words started coming to you more often, the rhymes started to make sense, you started seeing the pattern in nature, you started thinking, you started pondering, you began your search for Truth. Poems started having deeper meaning, you started questioning everything, your society, your culture, your religion. Your mind began the singing, simpler things got complicated, your goals in life got mixed up, you got messed up. Life became one big poem, you became an observer, you started playing this game, you started playing with people. You liked it, it made you feel powerful, made you different, unique in some way and you liked the feeling. You kept diving deeper and deeper in this ocean of emotions and you liked it. You wrote about it, some for other people but mostly for yourself. You started worrying about your legacy, your place in the grand scheme of things, your value to the universe. You wanted to leave something behind for people when you are gone. You started thinking of death alot. It excited you. But you couldnt just trust nature for your death, it had to be you. It would be more poetic, you thought. You finished your novels, and you connected your short stories. Connecting them became an obsession. It all had to be connected you told yourself. It all came from your mind and your mind was the connection between them. And now the canvas is complete. your work here is done. It is time, you told yourself. It is time to ascend out of this physical body with all the regrets, the bad choices, and decisions and the good memories. You put the pill in your mouth and swallowed it with a sip of water and your first chapter came to an end……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Dreamy Night

When his eyes opened,  he found himself in a dark forest naked. Everything was still and motionless,  closing his eyes,  he tried to remember how he got there but he had no memories to look back into.  His mind a blank slate.  The pitch black forest made it hard for him to see, he got up and slowly started to move,  not having any sense of direction he went with his instincts. The earth was damp under his paws,  far away he could see a source of light.  He was hungry,  he knew he needed to feed. He smelled something familiar,  something he recognized,  but couldn’t remember.  As he approached the source of the light,  he saw the headlights of a car and a man changing the tyres. The light of the full moon made his eyes  grow wide as he got out of the dense forest. The old man didn’t seem to notice him as he slowly came closer,  I moving carefully,  he had been here before he remembered,  he knew how to do it,  he knew what he had to do. This mad hunger took control of him as he approached the man,  he opened his jaws wide, and ‘SNAP’…
He woke suddenly in bed,  scared. He turned the lights on to make sure that he is in his home,  safe.  He hadn’t told anybody of these weird dreams he had been having ever since that one college party in the woods. People would judge him he had told himself. And they are just dreams anyway he thought. He got out of his bed and went to the kitchen,  the lights turned on as he entered it. As he pulled a chair to sit, his fridge lit up and greeted him.
“would you like a drink,  sit? “,  it asked.
“yeah,  actually I am quite thirsty”
“would like to try O negative tonight,  sir?”
“yes, I don’t think I have ever tried that one before”,  he answered.
The front lid opened to reveal a glass filled with chilled red liquid,  he grabbed it and thanked the fridge.  He put a straw in the glass and sucked, as the blood entered his mouth,  it sent a shiver throughout his body. ‘AHHHH..HUH NOO’
He got back in his feet, with laughter and mocking of his class fellows,  his clothes all muddy.  This was the third day in a row they had put a curse on him and made him do stuff against his will. But he was too scared to fight and stand up for himself or to tell his professors or anyone else. But this needed to stop.  Every time he ended up in the same place with mud on his clothes and same weird dream. He had no friend to talk to or share it with. There was a girl he liked, but he was just too shy to even talk to her and he also had no reason to believe that a girl like Lucy will ever be interested in anyone like him.  Girls like confident strong guys he had heard and he was anything but confident or strong.  He want bad on studies and he did fairly well in practical magic too. But something was missing. He didn’t know what. School yule ball was approaching and his mom had sent him a very nice dancing robe. Thus was his chance to make a move,  to ask out Lucy. He gathered whatever courage he had in him and went to ask her after their potions class. He was waiting for her to finish talking with her friends.
“I will see you guys in maths later”,  she told them and started walking towards her dorm. He ran a but to catch up with her.
“hi Lucy, I was wondering if you would be interested in going to the yule dance with me if you already don’t have a partner?”
“oh! Hi! You are?”
“oh I am so sorry,  I am Henry, we have potions and history together” you idiot,  you blew your chance for sure he thought.
“hi Henry! I actually do not have a date for yule,  so I would love to go with you”
What!? He couldn’t believe what he heard,  but he was grateful he didn’t say what he thought,  he said instead,”see you at 8pm tonight”
“alright see you later,  Henry”, she waved him bye.
He stood there trying to absorb and take it all in, he was going to the yule ball with Lucy. Oh my gods!
The next few hours flew by quick and it was 8, he had dressed in his dancing robes ready to go see the girl he had dreamed about ever since year 1 of school. As he was walking towards the main hall,  he could see Lucy waiting him at the door from far,  all he wanted to do was run to her,  but he must be patient, smiling he continued walking but his sight was cut by them. They had come again to humiliate him. He knew what was coming, he would once again end up being a laughing stock of everyone,  face down in mud.  Not this time. He felt different,  he felt something he never felt before.  Not this time he said in his mind. “not today!”, he yelled aloud to them. They made a move,  but he was ready,  he disarmed two of them but the third one got to him and knocked him to the ground,  his wand sliding his hands,  he looked at them with horror on his face,  from far he could still see Lucy waiting him, but she didn’t see him, they all surrounded him,  all three of them pointing their wands at him. “how dare you,  you pathetic little mud blood filth!”, spat one of them. ‘AVADA…. CRASH…’
He woke as he fell to the floor. “ouch”, again the same dream, There is no such as magic! he exclaimed in his head and got up to open his window. The sun was coming out and there was already traffic in the air with school busses flying the young ones to their education centres.  While the more privileged ones were being carried by their parent in a jetsuit. He folded his bed to the wall and pulled out the toilet while putting on his glasses for morning news. After being washed he took his breakfast pill and flew to work in his car.