Like chopsticks in my head

When I talk...

talk to you...

it's like chopsticks..

playing in my head...

trying to make a song..

whose lyrics I forget..

Have let you go..

yet hold on to you--

finding us...

somewhere..

is all I wish to do...

The half sleep..

half wake syndrome

that you and me suffer from

and what rests is faith...

for you in me...

 

Lost niche...

Who's who...

pretenders...

Are we?

Not letting go...

What is gone!

Not withstanding

right against wrong--

Trying hard--

for the lost niche..

That is within...

Drawing inspiration..

not from the inner will

but the hyperspace--

and so..

We lie..

Encircled..

Engrossed..

Not enlightened..

Like the dry twigs...

Waiting for spring!!

Predator

Photography by Swati Singh Sambyal

 

No religion..
Allows human
To disrespect
The sanctity of others!

It is the animal...
The ferocious one..
That resides in all of us...
Hungry for blood,
Money and space...

Because hope is white!

Photography by Swati Singh Sambyal

Not running away...
Not Chasing anything...
Just desperate for my survival
in this world of snatchers and thieves...
Painting pictures...
Jotting words down..
Because nothing else brings out more life...
This somewhere seems far...
My map has no lines...
I'll try...
Because hope is white...