THE FOCAL POINT

I shall shower you with money
Come be my honey
I shall spoil with new notes
Love shall be the units

I shall build you a mansion
If you can be my companion
I shall erect you a gagiantic perch
Love shall be its body and flesh

To you I shall offer all my princess
Simply say Yes
For you, I shall make unending sacrifices
Love shall be the basis

WE ARE PROFESSORS

We are professors

not like them at the ivory towers.

We award marks without lectures.

For those who pass,

they will repeat the class,

else they had once.

Those who fail,

they will withdraw

to try again.

For the new entrants,

some will fail never to rise from the deep,

other will,

they'll re-apply for our seal.

Some will pass only to fail soon

while others will pass to repeat their classes.

That is the game

we play it every four years.

I FORGIVE YOU, O DESTINY

Sorry mama, I have never being a good boy.

My vows had gone with the wind.

Now I know the truth wrapped in the words of sages,

‘The cemetery is the richest ore of dreams.’

Please pray for me,

That I may robe haven before sepulcher.

Papa, pray for me that I may find my way.

Life had turned by white, red.

Black, it lays next in line.

Papa, pray for me,

That I be the victor not the victim.

A man of valour not vanquish.

I forgive you, O destiny, I forgive you.

For the pain I go through, I forgive you.

If only I left you behind while crossing the vault of heaven,

To this field of daily battle,

I would have just passed unnoticed,

Like the snake crawled on the mountain,

Living nothing to remember it.

But I have you.

Now is no time to regret,

To turn back or relent.

I have taken to this voyage,

I shall sail till I beat you, O destiny.

I MISS THE DAYS OF LETTERS

I miss the days of letters

The days of pens and papers

The days of envelops

And their co-travellers, stamps

I miss the days of letters

Close to your heart, you cherish these papers

On them resides a lover's heart

Tearing them is breaking a special heart

I miss the days of letters

In their hundreds, you keep these dear papers

The physical representation of a lover's inner feelings

To each, you grant a daily glancing

I miss the days of letters

The days of pens and papers

SOLO-MOURN

A beautiful face 

glowing like the rainbow in the sky.

A fertile land of deception

watered with fake smile.

Her heart, an ocean of sorrow,

sailed alone,

with the whirlwind of pain

tearing its wall apart.

A voyage of inestimable agony,

she takes in the tide of time.

From dusk to dawn,

her pillow baths in the ocean from her eyes,

but at dawn,

her ball of fire, 

she shields with a glowing face.