If I don't talk, I lose.
You and more.
I could as well, lose myself.
Might aswell.

Like a bee out of a bear's mouth.
In a snapshot, of continuum.
Like a particle of vacuum.
I paint a sorrow picture of loss.
Of departure, of delirium
If I don't talk.

As a child,
I assumed, I was a poem.
Comprehended to the one,
Who was adept enough to read.
Someone, who atleast knew the words

But it ain't that.
No man's too pedestrian
You've gotta sell, everything.
Nothing stands unquoted. Goddamn.
So talk, I must. F!


Blasphemous Aesthete said...

I believed that good deeds spread like the sweet smell of a blooming flower. That was what I was taught in Moral Science.
But I never found it so. It always needs a little nudge, a little push. Sometimes, a little too much.

Good read!

Blasphemous Aesthete

Anirudh 'Lallan' Choudhry said...

you needn't