Biography of Kanishk Gupta
I am a 17 year old boy living in Dubai (U.A.E) with my family. I am simply an open book written in a language spoken by aliens living 237956347045734 lightyears away! Seriously! ! ! : p
Kanishk Gupta Poems
I sit alone In this cold dark room No windows no doors Just icy cold air
Just Once In My Life
I wish I could once in my life Be a reason for your smile I wish I could once in my life Be yours for a while
So many people around me Each with paths of their own I could barely see mine, but, I kept walking alone.
A refuge for a coward A reason for the brave An excuse for a deed A name for a thought
Lying at the top, in the dead of the night, Admiring life, and beholding the sight, Gazing above, beyond the sparkling low sky, Envying the stars, floating so high.
Falling in Love
Never have I known what's right for me Never have I felt the need to know more of anything There is this little place beating inside of me Never which I thought would take control of everything
You Were The One
When I was alone Empty as a hole You were the one You hugged me to your soul
A Lingering Silence
The Lost Moment
There was something different that day, About the way the wind blew; It lost all sense of directions, The moment I saw you...
The Flaming Hair
'Quit staring! ! ! ' She said passing by My mind began mumbling apologies, But my tongue had its own reply:
Tired of life, and all the rules to abide, I finally decided, to commit suicide. I could shoot myself or maybe drown, Or I could climb up my building and simply jump down.
* This poem was written by me on the last day of my high school, as a tribute to my school life. Hope you enjoy it! * As I slowly approached, ... that unknown gate A glance at my mother, tightly holding her hand;
The Voice Of Love
Scanning the land, With her soft and alert eyes; Searching for the 'clawed' ones Whose thought alone chilled her spine,
When I Cease To Be
'Its better to not have existed than to not have lived. But its much better to never have lived, than to have lived as if never existed.' There are times, a lot of times
The Voice Of Love
Scanning the land,
With her soft and alert eyes;
Searching for the 'clawed' ones
Whose thought alone chilled her spine,
With a thorough look at every side
Only after the last vestige of doubt had died;
She called him just like her mother used to,
In her soft and alert voice,