Existential Seize

creeping insanity of delusional reality
has been a regular dose of psychosis.
Illusion of your vivid structure
on a clear night skies along the moon
or be it the theatrical performance
of the gloomy clouds
in forming your flamboyant reflection
delusion of you never seem to seize.

the existential bummer-
existence of me without you,
existence of your imagery everywhere
-reality itself seems like a dream trapped in a virtual nightmare.
The fact that the distance between us-
suffice to fit this universe and millions more
-let us know how far apart we are,
the hypnotic pair of eyes you possessed
i am obsessed with purified version of you.
I exist in a simulated reality you designed
and I
-the lunatic that i have become-
created for my existence.


You Know What I Hate

the very existence.
the very existence of me captivated in a void, in a nothingness, surrounded by these material beings
lifeless as it seems, but these are what i interact with for a glimpse of you.
the futility of existence
of giving hope, the dream, the vision of what is to be
only to have it all crashing down like a castle made of glass
shattered and broken with a single crack.
The hope of heaven on earth, the clairvoyance of you and me walking hand in hand forever and ever
the eternity of being larger than this universe even though we are a trivial being living within it,
only to realise it was a constructed memory based upon the blind sighted affection and gratitude
and the very existence of remaining time, consumed by emptiness, is to deconstruct the same memory
while living through it every day -physically and virtually.
Deconstruction, the dismantle of the memory is the most agonizing and very much hated.

The worthless anticipation
the known probability is next to zero or even negative yet the heart hangs by the skin for the possibility of what might be
in this infinite universe.
Its so pathetic, the passing of time, the ticking of clock and yet the anticipation never disappears
rather the anxiety grows larger and larger pushing the button for this urge to make a first move, or a millionth one.
A mistake, may it be, the anxious anticipation
this uncontrollable desire
but you were a shot of dopamine and we both knew it.

you know what i hate, the knowledge of nonexistent.
The knowledge of nonexistent
is a frightening thought as at one point
we were a singularity and we big banged into our own creation
our own universe, revolving around each other
until you destroyed me completely
you destroyed me completely and mercilessly
engulfing the very existence of me like a blackhole devouring the entire galaxy.
And now a meaningless creature that i have become as you shine upon others light
i cant help but wonder does that light outshines my entire purpose, my entire existence.
tell me am i nonexistent to your futile existence?!

Conspiring Universe

Its been said that the universe has its way
the right or wrong; never certain
the gods always took the burden
the righteous deeds and the wrong doings reprocaution

Every thing reciprocates
what goes around, has it come back?
With the infintie possibilities within the universe
has the finite results been trapped?
always love has turned into hatred,
has hatred ever changed back?

Whatever may be the ways of the world
nevertheless Hope has always prevailed.
conspiring universe-
stretching gillion lights years
out of nowhere this is where we were placed
Right beside the sun, perfectly aligned
And this is where we exist.



5 minutes
elevated out of this world
and it is as
as without a war.
unconscious without a bound
and rage
as cold as the frozen ice.
vanquished at the spur of the moment
and hatred
skinned beneath down on the ground.
a straight line
and nerves
pulsate to the vibes.
All of my senses concentrated at singularity.

i fly into
this space voyage without an air
and spacesuit,
without any gravity
traveling millions and millions of light years
among the stars and the moons
decorated by the supernovas and
pulsating pulsars and quasars
i jump from galaxies to galaxies
escaping the deepest black holes
with a click of my fingers.
As i leave
“The Weight Of The World”
back home
a tiny tiny tiny grain of sand called Earth,
im free-
falling on to the universe.
and i imagine-
what could be a better Deity!!

(This is my utmost and humble dedication to one of the greatest musician Joe Satriani’s, among the many uber-creation,
“The Weight Of The World”. A bow down to his majestic imagination.)