if i could tell , my hearts wish ,if i could take out that tender heart, which cry at the slightest prick,if i could tell i am not thankless

The moments of loneliness,the moments, silent ,when the walls whisper my name, to hold on till dawn.

Hear the light calling my name, want me to walk on rainbows, to set myself free…

Dream of houses,small houses,tucked away spaces,coffee smelled corners mingled with your smell,with words on the walls and light as music.

‘home’ we created in the corners , in the alleyways ,at the end of world,enclosing it by the air we breath , with the dreams we dreamt..

and those bricks are not ‘bricks’ ..they are part of our souls..put together..to make that ‘home’ …Dreams …your and mine ..

someday this room will become human , having seen me going through all the times. walls will melt, crying and laughing with passion of love.

If only the walls could tell stories , of u and me , of us , of our passion , of our fall , if only walls could tell stories..

if walls could absorb the sadness in my heart , if it could give me strength , if it could hold me when i am weak ,if it could be you..

my room is the womb , it contains my passion ,my eccentricities ,my weakness , my tears ,my joys ,its my temple , its me..

room is my oyster,my refuge ,it masks my mistake, it screen me from people…till world can see what they want to see

If i could stand on my feet , walk on water , cross oceans , if my heart could hear the love song again ,if i could …

Times will change , and so do ‘we’, lets meet after we are done with it , to ‘love’ again .

Attics

Dreamed about attics,maybe its about spaces in our mind ,covered with cobwebs, which we seldom visit ,am building my home there.

They say you got poetry in you ,dear friends its pain twisted by words ,it makes my days more bearable and my nights more dreamy.

They called us mad , my dear , they called us mad, and we call ourselves dreamers , nevertheless it hurts , they call us mad.

In the sunshine , we shine , and the world disappear..we burn to shine ,and then they call us mad..

They called us mad , my dear , they called us mad, and we call ourselves dreamers , nevertheless it hurts , they call us mad.

mask my dear , wear it , mask of the fake confidence ,the world praise the mask , not your little heart’s conflicts , wear ur mask dear.