Path : A Haiku

and pave your own path

for if we all choose the same

roads would be crowded


I bleed

I cut

I bruise

I writhe

and then I bleed.

I cry

I squirm

I suffer

and still, I bleed.

I bump

I bang

I crack

and quietly, I bleed.

Down the road, not across the street

Will I die or will I bleed?

The Bride.

Her face rested
and she didn’t smile.
Her lips lingered together
stretching in a never-ending line.

Her hair was a bird.
Flying across the skies.
Shiny ornaments flashed light
On her kohl painted eyes.

Her earrings whistled
As the wind passed by
She just sat there
as cold winds sucked the air dry.

Neither did she utter
Nor mumble a word.
was heard.

What more could you do ?
When fate betrays you ?
Gives you all the happiness in a day
and then takes it all away.