He was a man of many facades
Unknown to himself besides.
Hidden behind the various twists and turns
Was a world he himself was ignorant of.
...
cold,
and the din
of all things (inside, outside) .
time bombs
...
the metal din
of keyboards
and the whir
of stale computers
...
tempers roar
in this cold sea
of unseeing eyes
and whispering tongues.
...
I have painted pictures
tucked away,
in dark corners of a twisting path.
I have sketched life into its blurred stillness.
...
I have nothing to say to you.
My words have died
on my lips
waiting for the moment.
...
The blood bath of pride
And the battle of wills
Were abandoned
...
I still look for horizons
sometimes
even after you
led me by my hand
...
What could be the reason for this
Unbelievable
Cruel
Ironic
...