Sands of time

The scorching sun follows me

Hot dunes burn my feet

I know you are waiting for me

As I leave the last oasis.

A grain of sand tears my skin

The mirage of love keeps my feet moving

your eyes on the distant horizon

the last drop of hope within.

My throat is parched.

Your tears dry

My heart sinks into the sand

Reaching out for your hand

As darkness engulfs light,

my life fades into the ground,

the memories scatter in the desert

and my love, 

floats into the sands of time.

--

Gyanban Thoughts : a few lines on the pain of not being able to be with your love. Memories are the only visuals remnants in the mind.You keep walking despite the imminent end. Love pulls you through till the end.

Petrichor

Houses in flames and hearts ablaze

Pain emerges behind the haze.

In hate lies a heart; in rage lights the mind,

Streets in scarlet and roads leaving milestones behind. 

Walking through the din and the noise within,

the light of hope blown by the wind

and the will to live flickering, or death lingering.

Life retreats from the world we live in.

Eyes closed and breaths slow.

Freeing the mind in a locked window

As a distant cloud sprinkles rain,

A petrichor of hope remains.

Gyanban Thoughts: these few lines attempt to capture the mood of the times we live in or the chaos surrounding us. How the pain around us drains our minds and the will to keep moving. It ends hoping to smell the distant petrichor of hope and neutrality(heathen) of beliefs below. 

Undwelling 2

 

Boulevard of broken dreams

Promenade of promises

Streets of lost souls

Neighbourhoods of numbness

Garage of gagged emotions

Home of hidden tears

Bed of  blues 

Pillows of poignancy 

Sleep of open eyes.

Home Alone

 

Open windows and closed domes

A quiet neighborhood and loud phones

Transparent windows and opaque minds.

Bright paints and closed blinds

Resort condos and motel minds

Manicured lawns and peaking blinds

High rises and short fuses

Big penthouses and small disguises

Socially vocal and mutually quiet.

Modular kitchens and mental riot.

Flowing curtains and stifled pains.

Soft lights and hard feigns.

Bright chandeliers and dark sins

Open gardens and sarcastic grins

White floors and dark rooms

Soft beds and dormant fumes

Crystal glasses and plastic gulps

Teakwood tables and emotional pulps

Homeless hearts and muted moans 

Beautiful houses, and so few homes.

Gyanban Thoughts: beneath the veneer of pretense lies the true meaning of home. Many can make houses. Only a few make homes. The life we lead in our minds reflects in our homes.

Invisibility

“Stop staring at me! 

Stupid cab, didn’t see the puddle.

Now please, eat baby, don’t fuss,” said June pushing the tray.

Just then Constantine appeared, “Sorry bud, I’m late, I was with your...”

Oskar’s tail wagged briefly before yelping.

The moist eyes searched for his parents, in the empty cage.

 

Gyanban Thoughts: Flash fiction after a long time. The subtext being promises broken and hope or the lack of it. We often set expectations without knowing the repercussions it may have on others...

Fade away

and then, just like that,

one day we will fade away,

aging books on empty shelves,

receding memories of ourselves,

sail away leaving the shores of love,

with no fear or pain,

as life empties the shell,

warmth turns cold

tears lost in those palms

those eyes which walk miles,

lost in silence ,

to the noise of it all,

and then, just like that,

one day, we will fade away...






Gyanban Thoughts : a few lines to take a pause and think about all those people we ve lost in time and the realization that someday, we will just like them, fade away.... huh, just like that....

In The Nights Of Fire

One Day I woke up, and saw the fire,

the raging pyre, burn burn burn,

but the one burning in me, my destiny,

will one day, engulf me....

I peered from the window,

Familiar voices, unknown faces,

scream scream scream...

with the forces,marching the streets,

I saw the flaming torches,reach out to me...

Children running,from the dark,
Mothers shrieking, pain singing a ballad,

Masking the pain, melancholy strain,

but in vain,vain vain...

As the lava, enters the city,

hiding behind the realms of reality,

Floating embers, flow like sorrow,

Love like there is no tomorrow,

In the Nights of fire,fire fire...

Gyanban Thoughts: thought of it as a paintbrush, just a streak across the canvas, with the paint trickling down the surface, not trying to make a statement, but just capturing a moment in time