Date : July 26, 2014

The Dark ones,
Sprawl out of sins,
Leave a morgue of principles,
Strolling on the path,
Of darkness.

Sublimating with it's shadow,
Becomes one,
Tire out,
To ever separate.

Inhabiting the depths,
Suddenly thrown onto placid void,
But never die.

Bearing knowledge of a world,
That no longer exists,
With life plenty,
Merely survive thereafter.

Posted by Abhilash Nanda at 11:29 p.m.

Date : April 5, 2014

Flight like a leaf,
Gliding along the wind,
Going places, seeing life,
Everything around,
Yet not content.

Storms brew amid control,
Storms in mind that don't glide,
They fly in directions of heart,
Creating ephemeral conflicts,
But these storms wither as soon as,
Eyes open.

The hearts to create storms and sustain,
Do not beat with enough force,
And so taken wherever,
The wind wants to,
While tears roll, making the wind heavy.

The art of control, makes us weak,
Makes us strong, depends on our place of standing,
And the moment wings are discovered,
Storms are created, flight becomes flight,
Unlike a leaf, but like a bird.

Posted by Abhilash Nanda at 4:13 p.m.

Date : March 31, 2014

I live in fear.
Fear of change.
Fear of uncertainty.
Frailty of my heart, where once strength resided,
Now where shards of reduced self-respect and confidence linger,
Distance apart from each other.

What must be said,
Of what might happen,
Amid conflict of a closed heart and an open mind.
Still the scratches of self-respect do shout from distance,
Calling ME that embodied them,
With feeble sounds of despair,
I turn around and miss them,
Amid the chaos and my weakness,
Knowing, they are my only path of salvation.

I imagine us talking,
In silent silence,
Where only they speak and I reply,
We talk for ME,
And the darkness around me burns in dancing yellow flames,
Outward, stretching a smile of relief and happiness,
On my now usually dead lips.

Posted by Abhilash Nanda at 3:27 p.m.

Date : March 28, 2014

The void in a mind,
Living within the realm,
Flourishing between the past and present,
Creates only void,
More and more,
And nurtures it.

How to take a step back,
How to take a step ahead,
Standing within confining walls,
Of a darker past,
And a bleaker future.

Soul is a water,
Which can be purified,
Which must be purified,
For origins matter,
When darkness is the origin.

So I try,
I try to cleanse,
Or to hide (I do not know),
With every choice I meet,
So the walls will die,
For death is “Natures” fundamental nature.

A confined wait,
For rust to grow,
Around me, for me,
To break free,
Of this world,
Like wings born to fly.

Posted by Abhilash Nanda at 4:59 p.m.

Date : March 28, 2014

Start And End
Where should a start be?
Along the edges?
Or the center?
Or where I decide where I must,
Start the start.

What if I start?
Will it meet an end?
Or will I have started,
From where I must not have.
Fruits matter?

Why is end important?
Cause it gives me a direction?
Or just relieves me from the drag of duty?

The opium of music,
Hold my hand,
For blind eyes know not the starts or ends,
But the right to aspire,
The right to feel them all,
Reside inside a walled heart.

The portrait of life,
Its canvas the time,
Leave me behind,
While I holding a paint brush,
Watch it fade.

Posted by Abhilash Nanda at 6:39 p.m.