Dope

Insightful and the brilliant glowing light at the end,
Covering my path all along the road with the special friend,
Parked high and free beside the moonlight,
My entry to the realm had taken its flight,

No promises, no vows, the movement was free,
My eyes marked the road straight ahead with stretch of the heavy trees,
Paid in advances the dusts seeped in through the cracks,
My friend had cast the spell and consumed I was by the heavy attacks,

Livid, dry and high, knee deep weak, long road, a distant blur,
My existence in the air, locked by the thought of her,
Nothing passed by, in the deepest trance of my deeds,
The best had yet to come, shadow of her soul on my body still sleeps,

Like the children played, she strayed in the soul,
The moment, time and second, paralysed my existence to the whole,
The burning face of reality cooled by the glass of insanity,
Along came the wilderness with the pinch of reality. 

No Justifications

have you ever wondered why you are here in this moment,

all I ask for the credibility of the senses and those lost sonnets,

If you can feel the numb touch of the time,

you can just stand up commit and accept your crime,

sorrounded by the sounds that lead you to this path,

dignified by the rusted lust for the credence and leftover shard,

take your chances and lead on to the land,

bow down and not out run , dont forget to take a stand,

glittery, shimmery , all wonder it to be like that,

no one ever realises it will turn out to be like and out it goes,

cling on and hold till the end, bond is too strong,

just try not to be feable and march on forward singing the victory song,

the glass is full along with the empty bottle,

dont blow up your chance to fill it again with a full throttle,

life has all the potions you crave for, desire for,

it only matter when you aim for the shots you see through .

Random Pulses of the Commotion

Wings high above in the sky,
the thrust of the engine and clouds starts to fly,
You sit idle in search for a moment,
All ever man has only looked for a bagfull off entertainment,

Bright lights big cities, everything is so small from above,
all one can wonder is their is a very shallow distance below,
points to ponder, moments so stronger,
you mortal, you think you are the only one smart.

now that the night crawled in ,
the wound are still afresh deep beneath that skin,
they pledge us they define the randomness of the ocassion,
I could never get hold off the cravings and their tingling sensations

Branded by the golden demeanour of the society,
the well is too far son, to wait for the formality,
pinchingly bitter truth may or indeed will strike you,
Water will spill off from the glass, until you want it to.

The Movement.

The fanatic rode the snake in his blue bus,

so did the cobain doped himself so early,

there was no voodoo child left anymore,

because they were involuntarily called by him.

They marched with the freedom of independence,

rode on to any vehicle they could get,

passed on their thoughts to anyone they reached,

left a mark on anyone who called them and were preached,

stop calling names, those hollow gloomy faces,

instead realise the deep tranquility of reality,and reach for the inner-visions of the sorroundings,

The day when the souls preach the notions and thoughts,

that day his all battles are fought.

with all the leather and strings they fought amongst the mortals,

the words they threw and raged those sleeping machines,

drunk and dressed they brought the stage to a fire,

to rise up against all those who tried to bring down THE movement......

Professional Lust

From the first drop of the hot shower,

To the last sip of the wine,

She feels the senses in her body,

Chilling, running down the spine.

She runs down the hallway, wraps him in her arms,

They plunge in the darkness of their fire,

The divine kiss, spreads their wings,

Burnt every ounce of energy in the body, they breathe back.

Morning, and she wakes up alone,

Looks up, everywhere, only to find her clothes thrown,

Snorts up her last stuff,

And another day passes, waiting for another one to come.

Sinner Man

Sinner Man

Rush of the blood down the pipe,

Burns the guts of that sinned insane,

Smoked the full pot of weed,

The smokes reached his nose drain,

Dissolved every part of his flexible brain.

Star gazing, moon raking, heavens asking and eyes fixing,

Fixing his glares to those burning flares,

Which reach the fluids in his brains?

Stimulus shot and ran through the nerves and he couldn’t refrain,

Nice feeling hit his forehead his temple, sweet emotion.

Rinsed in his sweat, panic, shock stricken overdosed,

Drowned in his own piss, was a stage he couldn’t face his eyes,

Walked a long mile just to breathe,

High, stoned could see everyone around him bleed,

Scary trip,took him deep in that never ending long lasting abyss.

“It is not necessary how much you get high,

What is necessary is that if you get high or not?”