some ever unfinished drafts

They are bricks of the imprint
built everyday of living

…
but when we leave a place in time
only thing people remember is built on those words
now if we choose silence as our words
it must become a mold to hold up our intents

…
words do matter, this is all they remember
rest is all in vain
basic thing is life is not to speak whenever we felt so
but to speak as if you are seeing dawn
now its our choice to speak or be silent
as it must be our expression of intent

 

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human positionally…inhuman

justified…on each other

borned…somewhere…took first step

learnt some words…

and honesty was fevourite one…

so many words…so much of insistance

built raised…on pile of words

it still carried on…and built looked beautiful…

it went upper…skywards…

….

so many stones melt…

just on honesty of those words

so many stones…became river

its built skywards

….

words inherited…a trick

a trick to expose the hidden core of stones

and depths of oceans

but themselves they lacked the content

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

 

and clouds coloured grey

streets are mushy

and its raining dismay…

days are passing without names

coloured grey

I am house arrested

but my creator wants me to run away

tempting me

 

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