You

You're the scarred soul and the blistering body,
The blood that shimmers inside,
The sweat that glistens violently,
As you stoke your demonic light.

You're the speckled sky,
The constellations floating in a queer dance,
The brilliance of the afternoon stupor,
Lit by your inner suns.

A Lament

Seas trembled and writhed in dismay,
The flames shed a single tear.
Rock withered and sky staggered,
The murk dissolved, stale but clear.

Splotches of red stained the whispering snow,
A frown creased the brittle heat.
Clouds burst forth in a reckless rage,
Pooling round the tempest's feet.

The errant mob behaved itself,
Rivers stiffened and ceased their flow.
The dead heaved an expectant sigh,
Machines skidded to a halt, wiping their brow.

The world slowed down, panting,
Time itself caught its breath.
Chaos went numb and silent,
Lamenting the poet's death.

The Noose

Crowded, suffocating,
The air now closing in.
I feel the urge to escape,
Escape away from this din.

A Waking Dream

Who dwells in my waking dreams, my sleeping thoughts, The nights asked with a troubled sigh. The words fumbled to speak of her Who haunts the shadows where my demons lie. Where do I begin? Of those eyes should I confide? Seemingly fathomless and churning. Where anchors flounder and storms take flight.

A gloomy morning

    "Wake up, doofus! C'mon, get freshed up," the croaky voice of Anna startled him from a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

       "Just a little more..." he said, turning on his side.

       " No time. It's our shift today. And saheb will get pissed off if we don't finish in time. Come to think of it, he is always in a foul mood. That big..." Anna started his usual rant against the saheb, again. Prakash jumped down the bunk and stretched. Purple light filtered through the moth-eaten curtain.