Quote for Today.

The Dream of a Lucky Man.

I need a drink.
Sweet alcohol,
I don't wanna think.
Make me forget all
Those hopes and dreams
Inside my head.
Cause my heart seems
To've overflowed instead.

More, I need more,
I'm about to sink.
So please, pour
Me another drink.

A little unclear
About what I’ll do,
I'm sitting here,
Not thinking of you.
I’m not going to think,
Then I won’t care.
One more drink,
For closure I swear.


That was the drink when he blacked out and stopped mumbling poor rhymes. That was the drink when he saw her gentle eyes looking deeply into his. That was also when he did everything he could to stop himself from throwing up on her. And she saw his face contort with the pain from an aching heart. For some reason that I personally can’t fathom, all women relate to pain(Premenstrual syndrome is the closest I’ve gotten to an explanation). That’s probably why she gently put her comforting hand on his arm. Now, every man looks out for an opportunity hit on a girl as much as he hopes to get laid after hitting on her. Although such men should consider certain details such as, if you’re drunk in a bar mumbling depressing nothings in rhyme you aren’t going to come off as the most charming guy. Luckily for him though, she wasn’t listening to a word he was saying(Partly because it would have been impossible to decipher). Instead she smiled to herself and thought, “He’s so damaged! I’m going fix him and he’ll love me forever for it.” Now, as much as a woman may deny it every single girl knows that the way to a man’s heart is through his pants. With one last winning smile she led him to her bed with a finger under his chin.
Now the thing about blackouts is that they make narrations a real pain in the ass. Either, you’re told an exaggerated account by a grinning friend, or you wake up from a hopefully beautiful dream, where the cutest thing you ever saw took you home and after a passionate night, for some strange reason threw your ass out into an ally with all your clothes on you, just as you’d worn them.
He dusted his shoulders as he got up and out of the ally. And as he trudged home he had a silent grin playing on his lips of a man who’d gotten lucky.

Romanticism in Front of a Firing Squad.

The smell of summer drifts with the breeze. The clouds shiver in the sky as they part before the moon. The moon, half crystal ball and half midnight, and I alone beneath your lovers blush. I wonder if there’s anyone else like me in some other part of the world, looking up and wondering if there’s anyone like her. And far below, further than my eye can see the sun waits patiently as I stumble towards dawn. Lights, an offering to the sun by idolizing its power. Yet they fall so short of the mighty sun. A stream of light and the slightly flickering one that drives by everyone else. The night sky reflected in darkness, as if swallowing the sea of stars. The rooftop spiraled into the sky as if to touch a star were its dream. And I on top of the world, as far as the eye can see.

The darkness was surging,
And somehow merging
With her long silken hair.
Goodbye. I won’t be there
Tomorrow, to kiss you awake.
I’m sorry, it was all a mistake.

In your house, you alone shine.
And I need a home I can call mine.
The road leads me, and I follow
Hoping the darkness will swallow
My shadow before dawn can break.
I’m sorry, it was all a mistake.

The winds didn’t whisper me back.
And the ground with no footsteps to track,
Every step taking me further from you.
I don't know where I'll go or what I'll do.
But forgive me. For our sake.
I’m sorry, it was all a mistake.

Sunday Sky

Dear Sunday sky,
Goodbye.
It's time for us to part.
Time for us to start,
Going our separate way
But we shall meet someday
Not to long from now,
As fate chooses how,
Till then goodbye,
Dear Sunday sky.

Dear Sunday sky,
Goodbye.
I believe,
It's time for you to leave.
I wish we had more time,
But that'd be a crime
Against nature's laws.
Yet you could pause
And wave goodbye,
Dear Sunday sky.

Dear Sunday sky,
Goodbye.
If only you knew,
I was smiling cause of you.
Still smiling after you've gone,
Back to the world of the worn.
Before i look at the time once more,
And shut the verandah door,
For the last time, goodbye,
Dear Sunday sky.

Untitled.

Your life might be a dark abyss,
But mine is kinda like this...
Daily routines , plans to make,
Mindless mugging, a silly mistake,
Finishing homework,promises to keep,
Reaching school half asleep.
Stealing tiffin, making calls,
Graffiti on the desks and walls.
Torn pockets,sleeping in class,
Making cog sheets, trying to pass.
Traffic jams, tuition everyday,
Lunch on the road, fees to pay.
Taking trips, ditching a friend,
Justifying the means by the end.
Sipping chai in a tea-stall,
Killing time, a missed call,
Calling back, feeling great,
Midnight conversations, sleeping late.
Getting high, bunking school,
Hitching rides, playing the fool.
Walking alone on an empty road,
Listening to music, movies to download,
Places to go, people to meet,
Freeloading, beef-steak to eat,
Books to return, notes to borrow,
I'll sit down to study sometime tomorrow.