Unspoken

( if u had loved someone but didn't tell her ...this might well be the music to ur ears)

Unspoken

How should I tell you?

How should I convey?

My heart wants to, but noo way!

We both live in two worlds,

Each has its own ways.

The bridge between us- broken,

People on either sides-unspoken.

Unspkoen they may be but they are true.

Just like God almighty,

Present, but hard to prove.

Even though my emotions -unspoken,

The love and affection created for the person -outspoken.

This may prove to be the bridge which people may lay,

To spread love and remove disarray.

The Dream Weaver

Dedicated to one sided lovers..they loose in love but they win in friendship.
The Dream Weaver
He wakes up from a dream,
Trying to get up and join the stream.
The stream boasts of strong currents,
The one in which many set sail.
Each with their own purpose to make it through,
Try to gain as much from the wind on offer.
But the wind alone won’t budge the great but insignificant a dream.
Though they float with ambitions second to none,
Still have to have a stitch which will make them closer to the one.
The Dream Weaver is the one just like any other,
Having the knack to help even in the harshest weather.
Seems strange why he should intervene,
But then he is the only one who has the future seen.
He perceives their fate not from a crystal maze,
But with an eye of a lover with his gauche ways.
He weaves on their cloth embroidered with care,
Makes their cloth rich even if he has to expenses bear.
Weaving for him isn’t devoid of pains,
Makes him struggle, with nothing much to gain.
Stitching their robes makes his eyes wet,
Still has to weave-for whom?, a question crept

"Faith of terrorists"

'Terrorism', seems to be a word with a lot of 'r' for a common man.. Refer it to a person who has gone through this ordeal. I am sure you would feel the depth of pain that word has brought to them. It would be nothing short of onomatopoeic for them.
After the recent terror strikes in Mumbai the word has gained a different dimension. Retaining its sedistic pain the word has updated it's reach by including shallowness of human thinking, which it has conquered with the venom of hardcore religious patronage. Embracing youths who have lost their sight, promising them vision of God and in the mean time transforming them into monsters who thrive with the intention to die for their lord. Terror treats each of its enemy with brutality and vice and offers no remorse to people who have already consumed it, killing them either instantly or with a postponement that lasts an eternity.
Young lads not even in their teens get engulfed in an air which once consumed makes them breathe out flames of other persons brainchild, forcing them to take on an enemy who is branded as ' the epicentre of their miseries'. Revenge is a kind of a wild justice. It has no advocates to come up with reason.It gives terorists authority to judge an innocent man guilty without even trying him for any offence done, by him or his community. The law of terror so powerful, it can distinguish a guilty from an innocent. Here innocent word dosent hold relevance. It is either a word describing a person who has escaped or was saved by a commmando as was seen in Mumbai.
So the guilty should be grateful to a terrorist, because he has been blessed by the bullets which have the puprose written by the almighty. Though the point to be noted here is that there are two variables in this context, the terrorist and his bullets. Both are short in number. A terrorist can be killed by a commando, his bullets mught miss the targets. So the guilty should be grateful to the justice of the terrorist, as his was the case where both the variables were sucessful.
To conclude I want to share a thought. Suppose the ywo variables, the terrorist and his bullets had missed the guilty, wouldn't the justice of God be questioned. How can God discriminate between people. This proves that this entire crusade which the terrorists call 'Jihad' is illfounded and shallow.

Devil has tough Competition

Dead Man's chest

Dead Man’s Chest
Arr! Roared the captain to his crew,
Prepare for a voyage and let me through,
From this place where no riches grew.
Raise the anchor, set the sails,
For there is a chest awaiting our claims.

Aye! Said the pirates to their chief,
Dreamed of glory but were only thieves.
After the order they began to think,
How on earth will their fortunes kink.
Pirates they were so there was little sense,
Each made plans which were truly non sense.

The captain fuming entered the scene.
Booted them and made them deck clean.
Arr! Roared he, and pressed his trigger,
Made them aware of his stature and vigor.
Calming his nerves he asked them to surrender,
All their greed and reduce their blunders.

But the pirates least in a mood to capitulate,
Priggishly planed to claim the chest for self palate.
The dead man’s chest claimed a tail,
Was buried in an island where human’s fail.
But knowingly the captain kept his mum,
Wanting to test the loyalty of some.

Destination reached he ordered his men,
“Search for a key and return before day end.”
So all the pirates began their quest,
Found it taxing , but did their best.
Amazingly each one of them got a key,
Which they held and roamed free.
They searched and searched and forgot the clock,
Greedily in search of the mystique lock.

As day turned to night,
All of them continued with shiver and fright.
Coolly the captain relaxed in a chair,
Read the tale with rum for his care.
The tale had warned against night and dark,
Filled with creatures that would roar and bark.

Next day the captain lowered his boat,
Reached the shore and read a quote.
“The one who refrains from greed and gives his best,
is the one who claims the dead man’s chest”
---Rahul Salian