The Need for a gong...

Uncertain disorders maintain their occurrences..
Foolishly we follow our pretenses
Our walks rarely change
Our minds yet deranged
Predictions about our future are often made in the past
The outcomes however often leave us aghast.
Were the Trojans foolish to fight?
Is peace for us today out of sight?
Why the terror?
Today there is no room for error..
Why the carnage?
What of peace and harmony?
Love and tranquility..
Freedom and neighborhood
A mirage it seems is all it is..
It eludes us ...Just when we need it the most.
Fear struck into our hearts..
We have seen now, how the bleeding starts.
I regret my tunes, my words, my song...
For no one listens..what I need is a gong.
Stop the madness...stop throwing ur bombs...every bullet you fire...leaves peace no chance...
Stop the madness...let our children have a chance...let them experience freedom like we did..


Cowards u kill in his name.....

Conversations in my head..

When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home,
And ignite your bones,
And I will try to fix you,

High up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I

Tears stream down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Splish ,Splash

Voyeur

Blow me away.. I'm stagnant right now.
I'm Adonis yet my mirror cracks easily..how?
I'm fighting my private wars..gimme speed.
I'm different, I'm part of no creed.
Let me get through the carnage faster..
I'm a Voyeur..stop me from looking..
My words will cut through you...
The blade of my tongue will pierce through you deep..
Run away whilst you can..
I won't go easy...
You can smile at me..or laugh at me
Break me down or scream at me
I'll still be looking....
My eyes they see you..they remember you...they tear for you.
Your smile, Your face, your persona, your grace.
Where will you hide?
You usually glide.
Your hair it burns my skin...
when it lashes against my face....I bruise and you think you can win?
Your hands they're as cold as your heart..
I've known your madness..right from the start
The sand beneath your feet I've collected..
Built castles with them..even when I was neglected..
Don't look now but I'm staring at you...
I'm a Voyeur..but I'm no statue...
You've walked away ..so many times..
but you still haven't paid for your sins or your crimes...
But someday you may fall...
Remember me then , I may still answer your call...
I'll watch out for you...it's what I do best..
I won't ignore your pleas..not like the rest.
Live today as well as you please..
This life after all is just on lease...
Don't whimper...go through it..don't make a sound...
I'm a voyeur..I'll watch over you..I'll see you around.

Locksmith

Sure there was probably an explanation for all the dust I found in my bedroom...But I rarely bothered to ponder. I walked in and out of it, thinking about various other things..things that apparently matter/mattered often ignoring the one place which inspired me most. Sure I took it for granted as I tossed my crumpled clothes around...sure I yelled and screamed within those walls every time I wanted to plead sanity..Of course I head-banged to metal and tested the laws of gravity..yes on most days I typed away until my fingers turned sore...On some days I didn't bother with day light , confining myself to my domain..my zone...my world.Yet somehow I always took it for granted.Its uncanny that we humans..us ungrateful bunch of hypocrites often neglect the one's who have been kind to us. We often mock what is ours, we often overlook the things we have..often searching and looking and wishing for things we can't have. We never bother too see those special things, we overlook those special memories, so often we miss out on the present because of our obsession for the past and our desperation for a future. My room stands today awaiting its master, filled with memories happy and sad, the walls speak off passion and desire burnt into its paint. The ceiling bleeds with ambition and dreams that have been wished upon and stressed over. The floors speak of the body that touched it on several occasions, sometimes blending into each other.The doors acted as portals into imagination and fantasy. The room represented heaven and hell...where thoughts became ideas and freedom became necessary. So stop,look and comprehend. Make a list of everything you had and lost..and then make a list of everything u have and hold onto it...appreciate it..want it. We do our best sometimes to break away..and rip apart the shackles that have tied us down for so long, sometimes however only a key will work. No amount of pulling and tugging will help...You don't pick the lock when you can use a key..similarly even if you have the strength to rip the chain of its very hinges..don't ..it just means that ur still bound to it for a reason..understand why..... understand the need to complete the incomplete..understand that sometimes you just have to wait for the key.........
Click.............................................................................

Orange Rain

Seasons have changed and nothing is still...a competition it seems this life repeatedly builds. Echos and dreams once bore fruit, today reality emerges so cut throat. Passions neglected , but for what cause?.... a few bravo's and a little applause ? . Moving with the currents prolongs swimming, but what of tidal waves and port bells ringing. Caution to the wind is a risk one doesn't take, a life we all are trying to make. Forgotten we have, forgotten ourselves.. rotting away like old books on shelves. Mirages are discouraged , get real they say...but what of day dreams in the merry month of May?. Glorious days are promised for all realists, mocked are the one's who call themselves idealists. When it rains, you wish for snow..when it snow's u yearn for the sun's glow. Orange rain cometh , Orange rain go... We reap whatever we wish to sow. Dream your dream today my friend... Don't get lost with the set life trend. Wish for your wishes to come true, drink your coffee made with the finest brew. Laugh at the rain, laugh at the cloud..when u need to cry...do it aloud. Be yourself ..don't lose yourself to the cold..don't lose your identity ...don't be sold. Fight for your dreams and follow them through, mix it up in the batter of life and make a fine roux. Choice is yours -Be different or be the norm, Decide now while you are still in your dorm. Awaken dreamer your time has come, long you have hidden and long you've kept mum. Action now dreamer, work it out..tonights yours ..win that bout. What'll happen is an unknown fact , takes more than crystal balls to know with a pinch of tact.Follow ur dream, for as u dream ...so shall u become...Dream,hope,believe and do............
Orange rain cometh...Orange rain go..We reap whatever we wish to sow.

Tiara

I know of a doll. We call her Tiara. I call her friend.She doesn't call.She has friends, a few of them who always let her sit at the shiniest chair at a tea party. They don't really care for her, but are still drawn to her.Before you feel bad for our Tiara... halt, stop, cease and desist.She's good at painting pictures that people like to see.She stands on a bench of morality and resides on the highest floor of the doll-house. Still I know she is alone. May be she deserves to be.She's cold and manipulative and everyone is aware.Still those that have stood by and watched her be ,haven't left her side.Dolls aren't alive because they don't have the ability to feel or hurt.This doll then is no different.She sits on the rocking chair u leave her on.She smiles , keeping her cold gaze upon u.Not caring about your woes or troubles.As long as it doesn't affect her best interests, she will not stir.You open up to her with the hope that her face will soften.Nay!. It's still the same.You feel bad and you ponder upon your beliefs.Growing up ..you have always heard and believed that a doll is a child's best friend, a companion of sorts. You wonder then about Tiara and her motives. You stare at her hoping for her to yield and open up...but you end up hitting a brick wall.You hurt, she smiles. You cry, she smiles.You sigh, she smiles.You mummer to yourself and wonder about the material that was used to make this cold being.You wonder about her creation.Who then was responsible for not having sowed a heart into her? Who then thought that it would be funny to create a heartless doll? A doll it seems is a likeness to a person, a smaller replica.Can u imagine a person without a heart?... I can.

We call her Tiara...