
I need a needle to slit my eyes so that I'm able to show the real dismay I'm in,
I want blood to drop with my tears to express how much guilt I was able to win!
I was refused once again to submit any of my aspiration in the plethora of dreams,
I was forcefully pushed to lie on a bed on knives to produce some crass screams!
I was pushed away, I was kicked with awe, I was hurt with the weapon of curses,
I was trampled upon; they tried to erase my existence yet again.
I was confused, I was rejected, I tried to be jolly even though I knew I was dying,
I was hated, I was not appreciated, I cried when I was encouraged to cut my vein.
I was asked to choose between a painful life and a comfortable death,
I was asked to cut open my heart and leave this world without taking another breath.
I was compelled to see a jaunty future in the lives of all those who were related to me,
When I would accept to erase my shadow and refuse to ask for a long life in my plea.
I felt aspyxiated when I saw how unlucky my presence is to all of my dear ones,
Because of me, even they had to break the knots which held all their happiness once.
Everytime my presence makes a flashy growing flower bud change into an ugly fern,
And whenever I step into the Church of Joy, I find its divine walls tremble and the offerings burn.
My life has recorded every new start as a tremour of a harsh ending,
Even if fruits grow over the tree of my life, it does not show any bending.
It stands erect, ugly, without any blissful flowers adorning it's chipped bark,
No virtue of nature was able to pluck it out of the excruciating dark.
I feel so distorted; even I cannot fetch myself out from the latent pool of loneliness,
It is almost everytime I come back into this water even if I try to hold some happiness.
The past ruins of my life abrupt the new infrastructure of joy to come in the process of construction,
I'm holding the bricks and the cement but I lack hands that could help me out with affection.
Every passing day pushes me higher into the steps of the ironic Roman Coliseum,
Every new face I see retards me into a more dishonest grave of hurting delirium.
The ecstasy of living into this great sad world has all abolished from me,
And I feel even more morose when I find that now my desert cannot ever enjoy a breeze.
I wait for miracles everyday to come and swirl its wand of magic and help me out,
And tell this world that the songs I sing are melody, not a sample of disgraceful shouts.
If God exists, why does not he come and wipe even a single tear from my agnostic vision?
I believe in holy things, then why do all the clouds of my hope produce noise after every collision?
I've become so secretive and my eyes enigmatical due to the circumstances I live in,
Still they are able to reflect every loss of my life even though my lips are able to grin.
If anyone tries to look through them, he would get me all nude trying to protect myself -
In the tattered sheet of happiness and in some pale rags of more self-confidence.
I have emotions, I feel bad, I feel hurt whenever I see people degrade my esteem,
But, I'm so weak, I cannot respond with vigour or valiance to shield my remaining gleam.
Because of everything, I may look indifferent, arrogant and maybe plastic,
But I cry everyday and all the tormence I endure and the pain I live, my eyes say it...
I want blood to drop with my tears to express how much guilt I was able to win!
I was refused once again to submit any of my aspiration in the plethora of dreams,
I was forcefully pushed to lie on a bed on knives to produce some crass screams!
I was pushed away, I was kicked with awe, I was hurt with the weapon of curses,
I was trampled upon; they tried to erase my existence yet again.
I was confused, I was rejected, I tried to be jolly even though I knew I was dying,
I was hated, I was not appreciated, I cried when I was encouraged to cut my vein.
I was asked to choose between a painful life and a comfortable death,
I was asked to cut open my heart and leave this world without taking another breath.
I was compelled to see a jaunty future in the lives of all those who were related to me,
When I would accept to erase my shadow and refuse to ask for a long life in my plea.
I felt aspyxiated when I saw how unlucky my presence is to all of my dear ones,
Because of me, even they had to break the knots which held all their happiness once.
Everytime my presence makes a flashy growing flower bud change into an ugly fern,
And whenever I step into the Church of Joy, I find its divine walls tremble and the offerings burn.
My life has recorded every new start as a tremour of a harsh ending,
Even if fruits grow over the tree of my life, it does not show any bending.
It stands erect, ugly, without any blissful flowers adorning it's chipped bark,
No virtue of nature was able to pluck it out of the excruciating dark.
I feel so distorted; even I cannot fetch myself out from the latent pool of loneliness,
It is almost everytime I come back into this water even if I try to hold some happiness.
The past ruins of my life abrupt the new infrastructure of joy to come in the process of construction,
I'm holding the bricks and the cement but I lack hands that could help me out with affection.
Every passing day pushes me higher into the steps of the ironic Roman Coliseum,
Every new face I see retards me into a more dishonest grave of hurting delirium.
The ecstasy of living into this great sad world has all abolished from me,
And I feel even more morose when I find that now my desert cannot ever enjoy a breeze.
I wait for miracles everyday to come and swirl its wand of magic and help me out,
And tell this world that the songs I sing are melody, not a sample of disgraceful shouts.
If God exists, why does not he come and wipe even a single tear from my agnostic vision?
I believe in holy things, then why do all the clouds of my hope produce noise after every collision?
I've become so secretive and my eyes enigmatical due to the circumstances I live in,
Still they are able to reflect every loss of my life even though my lips are able to grin.
If anyone tries to look through them, he would get me all nude trying to protect myself -
In the tattered sheet of happiness and in some pale rags of more self-confidence.
I have emotions, I feel bad, I feel hurt whenever I see people degrade my esteem,
But, I'm so weak, I cannot respond with vigour or valiance to shield my remaining gleam.
Because of everything, I may look indifferent, arrogant and maybe plastic,
But I cry everyday and all the tormence I endure and the pain I live, my eyes say it...
awesum poem shob... again... kitni baar bulwayega.. after reading every poem ov yurs, m forced 2 say this :)
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