Countdown.

Let the light humble you to the truest form of existence,
let the warmth kindle the soft edged fire that burns behind your lids.
It's about time you took charge and set those recurring sparks finally aflame.
The filtering shadows of heat can curdle into one golden moment of  purpose-
The trail of shimmer is leading you on,asking you to follow.
To discover rooms filled with the bittersweet iridescence of fragmented dreams,
To walk into ventures of the stark bright lightness of loving and living.
All the way to yet another new end of a line-
The tightrope's safer end now in firm,reassuring grip.

"The Ecstacies Of Love."

(Special thanks to my extremely artistic thinker of a friend,who came up with the line "The ecstacies of love."

The only time I feel fragile,
Is in your arms,the safest haven there is.
So hold me tight,don't let go-
Show me all the ecstacies of love.

Your warmth nuzzles against my being
 Like the inside of a childhood memory,
I will shatter if you leave now,so stay right here-
Show me all the ecstacies of love.

Held in this embrace divine,
Every breath I take is redefined.
Pull me closer,hold on tight-
Show me all the ecstacies of love.

Happiness,itself,is holding us,
Intoxicating us in its indulgence.
Never let this moment fleet-
Show me all the ecstacies of love.

The two of us,we feel like one,
blending every hue to a beautiful melange.
Form a realm only known to us-
Show me all the ecstacies of love.

The Cinematic Interludes Of My Life.

If Bollywood could fit into a classroom with all it's boisterous bustling,
and squeeze through it's crevices to be embodied by a girl,I'd claim to know her well.
She's sheathing herself in colours new-scaled like butterfly wings,layered in dramaticism and sentiment.
And when you brush off against her good charms,she leaves a trail of glitter dust on your skin,just like butterfly wings.
Is she not pretty paranoia in every shade of pink?
Her liquid brown eyes,fluid like the action of the 70mm reel,
Her smile like the groovy numbers so lovable.
And her voice so sweet-that holds in it the warmth  of happy endings and heartfelt reunions.
If Bollywood could fit into a classroom,she would begin to grow on you,too.

"Of course,Sirrah,you're the welcome much."

I see hope swimming in your irises,it looks more  like a goldfish bowl.
Yes,your very eyes..that appear hollow,otherwise.
They're feisty today,and that fire of desire is here to stay.
It's a dark place,I  reckon,your devious little mind.
You're still trying to hide your pain in the creases and folds of your memories,aren't ya?
Beams of sunny hope evade your soul,ones you din't see coming your way at all.
They strike you like lightening,shake you thorough and stir your unbrewed dreams.
Those two lines of poetry come back to your lips..
 And You wait in Reckless Despair.