Jabberwocky was a poem by lewis carroll

Meaningless to many and crazy to some

But jabberwocky made a perfect sense

To the one who it was written for.

Every poem is written for one person,

for one particular person.

And that poem is how we live


That poem is our life. Continue reading “Jabberwock”


Random understanding

“Misunderstood with a hint of comedy
Takes no time to turn into tragedy”

(Two liner)

The Adventure

I need to plan the adventure.
Its getting to late already
Its high time
If I don’t do it now, then maybe it won’t happen ever.

I gotta go….
Feel the air
And fly with it,
With no boundation at all.
Speaking without uttering sounds,
And listening the silence.

I need it.
More desperately with every passing second.
My boold wants to flow out just to feel true freedom.
And my mind needs new work and mysteries and adventures and plotting to live, because boredom kills.

And important of all…
My soul is hungry for years.
It wants to feed on true depths, true peace, on truth itself.



Its so hard
To finds the words
Words which can describe
The exact heart.

We believe what we see
But we never try to look for
What someone else see

The words are mere cover
Cover which are empty now
The reality inside is now lost
Lost in the handling of masked men.

Words are just few buckets
Of the sea…
We can’t give the sky to feel
So let a flower it be.

Icarus’s sun


I’ll fly that high
Not because I want to
But because that is the only thing I saw,
That was the only thing I felt for so long.
It called me,
And I come.

The passion drew me,
Desire flapped like wings.
I felt the warmth
And the air melted me.
The light called me,
I came,
And I fell.

Warmth turned into peace
Orange was blue then black.
And down I go
Not because I have to
But because I will.
Because I came,
I fell,
And now I’ll fly!!

Are we!?

I am ridiculously happy about the mistake I commit again and again.
I am absolutely sure about the sufferings in the way of this happiness.
And I still don’t wanna stop.
This is love, isn’t it!
Love is a lust, an addiction…
You just don’t wanna stop,
Even if you want it to stop.

You just fall into that pit
And you are just as happy about it as you were the first time.
I guess
We are stupidly in love with love, aren’t we!?

The Stories Untold

There are floods of emotions
Drowning you,
There are thought
Trying to make sense,
Like souls without
There bodies
Trying to burst out
Through the mouth,
To make there existence felt.
But the tongue betrays
And the mind is in chaos.

The black ink
stains the white paper,
Like blood on
A knights armour.
The marks of the
Unknown tragedies
Hidden from the joyous kingdom,
Caged inside the bars
Between the lines.

And those, my friend, are the stories untold!!

Daily Prompt: Mistake

via Daily Prompt: Mistake

If I don’t embrace my mistakes by saying (and though I trury believe it for more than one reason) that “I believe in ones individuality”, which in true sense is defined by once mistaks, habits and failure, then I won’t have anything to love myself for!!

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