My Immortal

You are close to me in complete silence
For you do not say you do not love me

You are close to me in night’s sleep
For in my dreams you are seeking me

You are close to me whenever it rains
For a raindrop touches my skin like you

You are close to me in strong winds
For their embrace reminds me of you

You are close to me in brightest dawns
For the shine mirrors the one in your eyes

You are close to me in the moon’s gaze
For it is as tranquil and as much wise

You are close to me in my thought too
For it is only where you do meet me

You are close to me in my own darkness
For the shadows make us both happy

And you will be close to me in death too
For the state of your presence will not change

I will ascend to pastures new, my love
But you, my immortal, will not change

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The Becoming

I write, tonight, for all the broken souls
For the consumed and for the damaged

Only the broken can mend the broken
And so I write for I, too, am ravaged

You decide to push loved ones away
In fear of them breaking down your walls

You shut yourself off and hide yourself
As the sheer darkness of your façade calls

Death is a pleasure that you cannot find
Since you are deprived of all happiness

But here is what you need to know;
You’re deprived due to owning the darkness

The moon stays beautiful with its craters
So why then are you afraid of your scars?

And you think these collapses are your end
But nebulas collapse to become stars.

The News

I wonder if the news has reached you,
Of my heart’s current disposition

For it hopes for you to find me, and
Hasn’t given up on that ambition

It trusts what great men ere have said
And hence it believes love alters not,

Love differs not between life and death,
And in what one seeks is seeking it

Thus, it beats for you same as ever,
It cares not about living or dying

And it knows you are a believer, for
You trust too in the power of seeking

So I wonder if the news reached you
Of my heart’s current disposition

For it knows that you will find me then
And lives on, just for that occasion

To Be or Not To Be

To be, or not to be, is the sole question
To choose sleep of death or the wake of life

For it is unknown how death may treat us,
But who’d rather suffer this weary life

The foolish moans about life’s unfairness,
But the wise have trained to suffer in quiet

For the wise is in love with fruit it bears,
And the foolish is, but, restless in wait

The foolish interprets death as a dread,
But the wise know it to be a haven

For the wise craves lasting rest it offers,
And the foolish is oblivious and a craven

Thus, who doesn’t love life is afraid of life,
And who doesn’t love death is afraid of death

Ergo, foolish never live where wise thrives,
And foolish avoids but wise welcomes death

The Epiphany

Why shall I speak of the damage of love?
When it rejuvenates me just as much

In love, people happen to say too much,
But for me, words do not work as my crutch

I reminisce the time I fell in love,
As my remaining days go passing by

I’ve realised the only love I now feel
The unrequited as the end draws nigh

But what was so unusual about you?
An epiphany unveiled at one sunrise:

In darkness ere, I had craved for light
Yet stars were situated in your eyes

It was in the moment I gazed upon
A face fashioned by the hands of nature

There isn’t much left to my regret now,
As lost moments cannot be recaptured

Requiem

Old friend, I am writing to you again
The infamous tale of squandered love

To have my denial broken by myself
To have accepted past for my behove

To have grown into a man of honor
To have embraced the code of chivalry

To have been reborn as a bird of myth
To have caught lies in nightly reverie

Lost myself in this chronic transition
I regret the love wasted, in-between

Who knew life can just be happy or full
If only the great men ere had foreseen

As humbled as I have become due this
I’m failing to see the point of these rhymes

So old friend, do tell me what is better
Death, endured once or a zillion times?