My little Finger

One night sleeping on my arm,
I woke up, In the middle of it.
One day writing my paper,
I stood up, in the middle of it.

Was it a nightmare, or the fear to fail,
I don't know, I don't care,
For all I know is

My Pinky is numb,
I can see it, but, I can't feel it
My Pinky is dead,
I can feel the pins and pricks.

The Lady In The Portrait

The sweet smile, and a morbid love,
I never knew, what changed my mind,
But when I drew her on my canvas,
It was night for me, and sunshine for her.

I tried, to make the colors look alive,
But she was adamant, made me look grim,
I reasoned with her, and then a long walk,
But nothing would change, for she was mine.

I drew her, a damsel in distress,
I drew her, for I loved her face more,
The colors were alive, and vibrant with fear,
Then a scream, when my true colors came alive.

Was it the noose, or the blade,
I couldn't tell but she screamed,
She called me crazy, a compliment,
When I let her dangle on her life.

She was captured, never to be free,
She was enslaved, within my dreams,
Then with a chilling shrill, she broke free,
Death became her solace.

I tried reason, but she would't listen,
I tried love, but she would't understand,
For all she saw was a withering cloud,
Under the shadow of a new dream.

Then finally to capture her,
To enslave her within my portrait,
I tightened my noose and swung my knife,
Until not a red drop would remain.

Judge me

The Infinite Love

"...What a fool was he, to believe in love, for I haven't found one, not in the hundred years I lived..."

Was it pity, or lust for blood,
That moved her heart, to help.
As she dragged him in, half dead,
Dragged him into her abode,
And let him live.

She was a vampire, an un-dead being,
Sucking out blood, to satisfy her needs,
But for him, she couldn't touch,
For on his neck hung,
The cross pendant.

She was moved, I could say,
For she helped him stand on his foot,
She had changed, I could see,

For she nursed him back to health,
Was it Love?

For months they stayed together,
In the little dwelling of hers,
And for months she nurtured the love,
As it grew strong with him.
Had she changed?

Then one day, she confessed her love,
"I feel the same", said he,
And for an embrace, he leapt in,
But she screamed, and held back,
The cross pendant on his being.

"If you love me, remove that,
Remove the wretched pendant from your being,
For it makes me weak in heart
And kills the love in me"
She said, with a shaky voice.

He tore the pendant apart with a shove,
And to dust he threw it,
And they broke into a sweet embrace,
Which only love could know.
Then she kissed his neck.

With a sudden jerk, she bit into him,
Sinking her fangs deep into his throat.
"For months you have evaded me",
She laughed, a bone chilling one,
As she drained the life out.

When she was done, she wiped her lips,
And threw the limp body to the floor,
"What a fool was he, to believe in love,
For I haven't found one,
Not in the hundred years I lived"

Dedicated to my lil' sis Josmin

A Random Poem :D( aka The Eclipse )

"...Exist for a cause, wither out without a warning. For the reasons you shine, are less known to Men."

One day, in the corridor,
When my guitar failed to play,
I sat wondering, "Why me god?"
"Why does failure sadden me?"

I heard no sound, no answer,
Yet I yearned for one, as I strained,
Strained to Listen to that little patter,
And the crackling of a dry blade

No answer came that day,
With a sullen heart, I slept, I wept
Still I hoped for an answer, but none came,
Next day, I played again.

God's busy, I said to my self,
And wrote a song, for a busy God,
And I played, and I sung, and I danced along
Till my finger bled, and my throat ached.

Tired, I sat dreaming, and slowly faded away,
Into the night that never ends, I dreamt my way
And that is when I heard his voice,
Like a thunder, echoing through the rain.

"Have you seen an eclipse", the voice asked,
"Yes", I nodded in my dream
"Does the sun, so mighty, chose not to shine,
When the moon shadows its grace?"

I planed on writing more, but I am too lazy, and bored. Please do comment ( Good & Bad both, please ), makes me feel good :)

The Truth

"...The war has made me, made me what I am. It showed me that life is what I crave for..."


I stayed, just behind the lines,
Lines of brave men, ready to die.
I stood, armed to the nails, prepared,
Prepared to bring down the enemy.

We charged, as bulls fed on anger,
To devour what came our way.
We charged, with swords drawn high,
To cut every head that stayed.

With each swing came down a cry,
A cry of pain, a cry of fear.
We marched into the midst, fearless,
Ready to fall mountains, on our way.

Little did we know, about the trap,
Trap that lured us into their midst.
And I watched on, as my men fell,
Fell one after the other.

I hid among their corpses, afraid,
I hid to save my life, and I held on.
And when the enemy was done, they left,
Left me with a mountain of corpses, my own men.

Was I a coward, or a wise man, I don't know,
For I just wanted to live, and I did.
And the war made me, made me what I am,
It showed me that life is what I crave for.

The Carriage Wheel

"Her screams drowned by the ramble beneath, drowned by the sound of the Carriage wheels...."


I caught the glimpse of her eyes,
As the train halted to a stop,
Her hair, silken black, shining,
Divine beauty, etched by gold.

A tear escaped her eye, with goodbyes,
She alighted, a righteous air by her,
Infront of me she seated, wiping a tear,
As the carriage chugged slowly, moving.

I read her face, flawless and vibrant,
As she sat reading a book, a paperback.
Then our eyes met, a smile, a conversation,
The melody of her voice, ringed in my ear.

She could talk, and she did, as we chatted,
Birds and trees to start, then came life,
Daughter of a widowed mother, she spoke,
Spoke with a vigour beyond her age.

She was young, but wise for her age,
We talked on, as shadows grew long,
The night came, and shadows disappeared,
And soon the sleep was upon her.

I watched her sleep, gently in her dreams,
As I sang her a lullaby, of a long lost prince.
And she slept like a child, as my eyes sparkled,
Sparkled with satisfaction of an evil deed.

A gentle smile curved on my face,
As with the knife I carved her grace,
Her screams drowned by the ramble beneath,
Drowned by the sound of the Carriage wheels.

Soon morning came, as I alighted at the station,
A bloodied knife hidden in my pocket,
Her silver necklace dangled in my arms,
As I bid farewell to a girl wise for her age.

The Sour Grapes

"I just wish I had tasted the grapes, atleast I wouldn't have been cribbing about them being sour..."

Smiling one sunny day, the fox,merrily rambled away,
Through the undergrowth, and a wet path covered in moss.

A vineyard he did cross, whence he laid his eyes on the grapes,
Dark-purple and delicious, they did hang on the drapes,

He sat underneath the grapes, "A grape or two won't hurt", he thought,
A jump followed the thought, then another, and another, till he tired out.

No mater how much he jumped, no grape he could grasp,
So atlast disheartened he started to march back, with a heavy heart.

There sat a crow, watching the show, smiling to himself,
Then a question escaped his naughty little beaks, as he squeaked.

"Why do you leave Mr Fox, already tired and giving up are you?",
"The grapes are sour, and I don't fancy 'em any more", sighed the fox

"But they are sweet up here", mocked the crow, in a sympathetic voice,
The fox din't reply, he swallowed hard as he walked away, thinking.

"If only I had tasted a single grape, I wouldn't have lied, I wouldn't have cried,
but now I crib about the grapes being sour, even without trying one."