The Mutiny of Silence

The Mutiny of Silence

in silence lies the outburst,
the passion to produce space,
with thoughts outpouring, damaged desires....
living life, lifelessness rebuked...

every insane unfolded story,
each basic question questioned...
the devil infecting the then optimist,
the angel betraying the last lost soul....

its a mutiny, 
against God's will...its a struggle,
against the devil..
its a choice you make within,
its your Silence....to muse at the world...!!!

Tales of unknown, silent special,
Beautiful histories, uncovered minds...
Patience is the new weapon....
to grow beyond control.....

Expire, inspire, imbibe, involve..
the Change to Silence is your new call..!!!

An Outcry of Impatience

Here I am,

Again, back from yet another,

Crisis.

I thought it was utopia,

It turned out to be unlike it.

I was confused to go ahead,

I waited for time to decide,

It happened with a blink.

Utopia, as they would say it,

I call it a slaughter house,

I chose it,

Over another,

Much finer confinement,

Now I am stuck with it,

My mind barely intact, 

my patience given way.

My skin was peeled,

It was painful,

It was slow, 

That was the only solace,

I cried to let go,

It clinged to pull back,

Then, the butchered soul,

Did flee across the tides..

I miss the house now,

It was better than this untrue paradise,

I recall this failure,

Yet again, the struggle,

Incomplete though,

Partly because I lost,

You won, and 

I Gave up……

Tanzila

Impulsion

Impulsion

These creepy clusters of a vicious laughter,

Merciless impulsion of my regular being,

This despaired emotion, intolerant gesture,

of lifeless existence, mourning regime....

The resurrected soul with utter confusion,

Unguarded by destiny, discarded by nature,

Defeated by memory of irrelevance,

To a lighter and subtle sunshine.

All vices unearthed, the virtues buried,

The graves of characters, fallen apart,

Imposing decree, dismissal of rest,

Infliction, addiction, surviving this test.

Brutal murders of souls and sight,

Raping one’s intellectual best,

Extension of the hands of rebel,

To freedom, relief from worldly creation

It’s a lie, a false disposition,

I live a dream, this impulsive plan,

This untrue happiness, questioned status,

Is my definition of a ‘revolution’………..

Scenes, stories ripped off humour,

Tenderness deprived of compassion and feel,

Revelation, revolution what it may be,

End of the world……..of the Great Gatsby…!!

Tanzila

DYING STORIES

This story is beginning to die.
It began a while ago
and it has been sometime now.
I tried saving it,
resuscitating it,
gave it everything.
I gave it a chance, an honour, and pleasure,
I gave it love..
I gave it whatever I had.
I gave it all I could give,
And all I could lend.

It got the much needed trust,
togetherness,
And the peaceful time….

It left me,
as I am,
as I was,
as I will remain,
Broken.
Into pieces..
In this un due clutter
With a clamour to afflicted memory,
This deeply tattered soul
And an extinct feeling of trust and love…

This story has ended,
Its dead,
I add it,
To one of the dead stories………….

Tanzila

My Time Travel

My Time Travel

As I lay there resting,

in my zone of recluse,

attempting to trick time(s),

keeping my hawk's eye,

on its every move;

I realized, the time changed,

with every blink of my eye.

It never stopped,

to think or rethink,

to decide or deduce,

to confuse or understand.

It bluntly moved on.

I realized my time never stopped,

when I did,

never waited for me,

as I would.

I realized, its my teacher,

the lesson taught,

the lesson learnt,

this lesson to be reproduced......................

Tick tock...tick tock....!!!! :) :D

Tanzila

ESCAPED

ESCAPED

I want to escape this noise,

this scene of chaos,

this rumbled union,

of souls, people, life

I want to escape this existence,

of being self compromised,

on freedom of expression,

on virtue of thought.

I want to escape this story,

every character that laughs,

the only one that cries,

this plot that lacks romance.

I escaped this world,

the sense of belongingness,

the serenity of mild control,

the value of passion.

I escaped nature,

the sun, the moon and their stars,

to recover and renew,

to revive a dead soul, so dead indeed....!!!

Orphaned

Today, 
I feel, am orphaned...
orphaned before time...
before age....
before I could grow enough 
to take care of myself....

I am orphaned by distance,  
to misery, 
to memories which never subside.

I am orphaned by silence..
to lawless collisions with fate,

and 
to be in absolute solitude, 
to seek my answers alone, 
and never see the new dawn...

I am orphaned by love,
which could never grow,
care which you could never
show,
I am orphaned, yes I am....