What are you going to do ?

The poor seem to have lost a cause,
Bending knee as every trouble came.
The runaways have never won war,
For their resolve is always the same.

The demons are the social spawns,
Bred by the selfish desires of one.
The lazy have stagnated in shell,
While they wait for things to run.

The rich may have found their way,
Fighting through the dust and rain.
The brave will find their success,
Walking beyond the fire and pain.

The angels live among the humans,
Providing help to those who need.
The diligent lead the life they want,
Shown in magazine cover we read.

The choices we make divides future,
As hunger drives us ever so closer.
No matter where your destiny lies,
The last survivor is never a poser.

Monsoon

The beginning of the special time,
made with a small bunch of droplets.
Soon they are pouring down below,
and the sky is filling in darkness.

The grass and ground are all wet,
yet the kids will not stop playing.
As the clouds burst up they run,
and hide under any solid covering.

Some animals come out to peek
while others begin to disappear.
You find peacock dance in joy,
and dogs return inside in fear.

Trees have never looked clearer,
and the air feels really fresh.
Temperature may get a bit colder,
and wind can make you sick.

Hot coffee brings friend together,
and umbrellas put lovers close.
It is the season of fun and game,
to spread happiness is Monsoon. 

Innocence and Forgiveness

It had taken not much effort,
yet mischief had been done
Their plans always meant trouble,
as they brought much fun.

It would have been forgotten
But there had been unrest
If there were no punishment
What could they tell the rest

Yet pardoned were they all
As they were just little kids
They always spread happiness
breaking the cookie jar lids

The Dead May Talk

There were days when she used to spent entire time in the clash of the ideas with him. Now, she spends her time recanting those same ideas as her own. It has been a year since she has slept in her own bed. A year since she had a coffee at the shop next street and a year since she watched an episode of FRIENDS on the television. It has been a year since the fateful night he died in an accident.

She knew in her heart there was a problem, when he had called in the middle of the day. He would never call her during office hours and especially when she would be with clients. His voice sounded so different, for he wanted to convey so much. He probably knew he did not have much time left. He maybe knew she could hear the sirens in the background and did not want her to know as much. The only words she heard were "Ï love you" before the call got cut. She had already guessed the worst and wanted him back on the phone. She wanted him to hear her say, that she loved him too, but nobody would pick up.

He never made it to the hospital, as his body had given out from loss of blood. She had seen the calmness on his face as they took him to be cremated. She was angry at him, for he had been lucky enough to get his last message across. Something that would haunt her throughout her life. The last thing she had told him was 'I hate you', for he had made the eternal sin of not washing his feet before getting into the bed.

Today, she wanted to tell how much she had missed him. How she had listened to everything he had said. She had cut her hair short because he liked it. She had stopped smoking because he didn't like it. If only she could get to tell him all this. Maybe a few more seconds telling him that after he left she realized how much he had affected her with his presence. She could still smell his scent from the room. She wanted to talk to him yet every time she tried she felt the absence. There was no reply and no reaction. She could give away her possessions in life to be able to see his smiling face as he opened the door everyday.

The finish line

An end to all beginnings,
An escape from sufferings.
A leap into the nothing,
A path upon the writhing.

People have tried to fight,
Scholars found it God's might.
Journey of all tale unfolds,
New life lessons it too molds.

Seeming to turn upon heel,
Yet it makes shards of steel.
Warriors have fallen short,
While their leaders still fought.

The sailor could not rope it in,
The champion just glimpse it in.
Long time has passed before,
Long time shall pass in after.

Everyone may not reach the line,
For their life will finish like mine.
Bravery and Luck are both in need,
If finish line has to be crossed indeed.