THIS PAIN..

This pain,
I don’t know,
If it is still central to me
This pain, I live it,
As if
I don’t care for it anymore
My days go with it
I wake up and say goodbye,
To the life on a day,
Not realizing its absence,
Not feeling its presence,
This pain,
I have lived it for so long,
That it ceased to have,
An identity of its own
But I can’t say,
If this pain is still,
Indispensable for me..

The Lonely Thorns..The Lonesome Curves<

THIS PAIN..

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

IT WAS NEVER FROM THE HEART..

It was never for the soul
It was always for the pain

With duplicities defining the whole
With charades and their shows inane

The fragrance was always deceiving
The presence frequently compromised

With an intent bent on misleading
With a soul already dispossessed

Yes, it was never from the heart
Yes, it was always a face so concealed

Emotions

IT WAS NEVER FROM THE HEART..

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

THE RAINBOW IN TEARS

The rainbow in tears,
With colours of peace,
In a pair of wet eyes,
Reflecting on so far,
Speaking up the mind,
In harmony with soul
The learning,
With odds of life to meet,
The poise of living the pain,
Surviving,
Through the selfish corners,
Breathing the indifference,
Earning the salvage,
To be on the journey,
Lost in chaos of duplicity
Tears of joy tell the eyes,
Now is the time,
Have no more cries..

Contemplation & The Reflex

“The rainbow in tears with colours of peace in a pair of wet eyes
Reflecting on so far, speaking up the mind in harmony with soul
The learning with odds of life to meet the poise of living the pain
Surviving through the selfish corners, breathing the indifference
Earning the salvage to be on the journey lost in chaos of duplicity
The tears of joy tell the eyes, now is the time, have no more cries”


THE RAINBOW IN TEARS

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/


 

YET I SEE IT’S FALLING BRICKS..

I don’t go to that place,
Anymore,
Yet I see,
It’s falling bricks every day
They hit me,
Like a fresh wound,
Each time,
Exacting a cruel retribution
The existentialist,
Finds his senses wanderlust,
In the lost realm
I try not to feel,
but thoughts prefer,
To embrace the atonement..

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“I don’t go to that place anymore yet I see it’s falling bricks every day,
They hit me like a fresh wound, each time, exacting a cruel retribution,
The existentialist finds his senses wanderlust in the lost realm,
I try not to feel but thoughts prefer to embrace the atonement..”

YET I SEE IT’S FALLING BRICKS..

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/