#anshinked

[vyankarak]

My mother told me I walk like my father

My voice sweet like his hums of blue hour

His furrows of brows resemble mine

I might have took over his cowardice

Oh, mother, but I have your eyes

Even in Rage, I would not hurt a fly

My rage is not tinted red but blue

I sterilize my hands with my own blood

The blood in me has hurt you

But you wont look me with adore

I know you hate because I am a piece

Of the anti-lord

You won't hold me because I murdered your dreams

I conquer the world everyday, only to cry myself to sleep

Oh mother, my sincere apologies

I am on my knees, please look at me

I am a sinner of the sinners

I am aware, this one time, let me sin

I am greedy, Oh mother I plead

Please love me.

[vyankarak]

Reminiscence.

I reminisce about our days again

Your love and your lie in April

The love I spoiled like a rich kid

To escape my grief, I poured

what I was running out of

In this room of everything

we could've been

There I sight a monochrome canvas

I paint your face with the charcoal dust

As if a patron of the royal blood

I varnish it with my acid tears

Look I shred it in pieces, and lie

In the puddle of my own destruction.

Oh, the tragedy of the greatest history

I offer to you, in my bleeding palms,

My heart pumping

I meet eyes with you, like an infant would

to his mother

Your orbs spilling honey, I loved to savour

The empathic rays it emits and

The furrows of your brows

And you hugged me a goodbye

Like a parent hugging its toddler

He stands there stationary

He knows he'll be orphaned

I, for once wanted to be betrayed by my

Intuition

The tears of my eyes which soak your shirt

And your soft hands clinged my frizzed hair

You kissed me and it tastes so sour

The time was knocking the door

You left your shows in the kitchen hall

And now I am sinking in the bathroom floor

Wandering the halls of "what is being enough"

[vyankarak]

चयन।

मै हर पहर यूं उपद्र सा, दर्पण समक्ष खड़ा होता हु

जो परछाई मुझसे मुंह फेर लेती है

भरी सभा में

उसे मै अपने पूरे बाल से जकड़े अपने भीत छिपाने की

इच्छा को ज्वलित रखता हूं

मै सबका, पर मै ना किसका

ओह प्रिय, मै बस स्वयं का,

ना तो मैं संत, नही पवित्र गंगा मैया सा,

मै हु सुपूत तिमिर वह तिरस्कार का

मैं पापी हूं, मानो साक्षात कली सा

निहारूं उस दरपण पर अपनी प्रीतिबिंब को

क्या हु मै जो मै हूं उसमे दिखता?

मै कौन हूं? मै स्वयं के सागर में हर क्षण अस्त होता

मै तामसी, मै, एक व्यर्थ सा धरा का अंश,

मै स्वार्थी, स्वयमासती मै कहलाता।

क्षोभ है मिलने आती मुझसे हर सप्ताह,

मै लिपटा उसमे, अपने पाप त्यागता

मैला हूं, और कीचड़ में हर दिवस स्नान हु करता,

मोह से मोक्ष, या मोक्ष से मोह है मुझे,

मै हूं खुद में एक विडंबना सा,

स्वामी जग का, किंतु जग का ना प्रिया

स्वामी लोभ का, दास किंतु अणु सी बाधक का।

(पर its okay dawg, we ball.)

[vyankarak]

I've empowered the meek phrases with my sorrow,

I filled some mass of my spilled love in these words so hollow

Egoist, called by the people I beloved

At the end of the day

Unstablity and uncertainty are my loveliest companions.

I wish to be someone's muse

Someone melody and someone's favourite tune

Its selfish that I want all of you

I write, as the tiny space between pen and paper

Burns the very cause of my being

I wish to be loved so soundly

Oh lord, why was I fed with the bits?

I gave you all of me oh lover I wish to

Be deceived for a week

Love me so perfect, love me so false

Let me lie on your carpet and never wake me up

I gulp these pills and they don't work

Don't overdose me with hatred,

I please so sincere

I've ran out, of always being "me"

But no amount of myself seems enough

For "me"

I am a coward layers of clothes over my skin

Oh I loathe my nudity, I please people with my skills

Of reasoning.

I dont want to cry, I want to lie down

Under this soil And bury myself alive

Its mutiny,

My echoes of aid does not seem to be working

Quite,

quiet

Nice.

[vyankarak]

Those eyes, in them I see the prettiest shades of brown

And those rough loving hands which hold my face close to yours

You're an ace my dear, and my pride thrives beyond the universe's horizon

Its mutiny, to be adorned with such warm colours

Your brown skin, like fine robust beans a rich flavour

The aroma wakes my mornings with enthusiasm

I'll brew your skin with my lazy kisses

In our petite room, as the sun gets lost

In the silk of your hair, my dearest

You're my phenomenal golden hour

I lock you in my arms, I wish your wandering eyes to,

Rest here forever,

I'll stay here, as long as you want me to,

I'll taste you like my young shots of tequilla

I wish to treat you a supper,

I made, with our 2AM shows in the kitchen

Oh my, my gorgeous lover, you're my reverence

You're the yearning of a child

The ethereal flowers of the wild,

Untouched and undiscovered,

You're the first breeze of the autumn,

And you're my ephemeral shrine

You're my, my only love.

[vyankarak]

Burnt finger tips, scarred; heart

With my broken strokes, I strum the guitar

Oh the rain pours, the percussion ensemble

Oh the bloody strings, shall you quiver

that story untold.

.

With the rain in my ducts,

oh I sing for the crowd of tears,

Its hazy, glamorous,

the stage presented so bloody

The blood my silk shirt soaked in

/

Oh, the view!! Look the artists bleedin'!

/

It pours, the clouds or my pride?

Oh the strings made up of my

self centredness, shallow and bright,

The devil, my mind abide

I could see, the devil behind me,

Whispering intrusive, he wants me to give in,

Oh my art saves me, I let the melody consume me

My fingers red, and my knees pack in

The crimson, in which my dolled hair now

Soaks in,

/

“Oh, the view!”, says the gentleman, with pity

/

Your art sells, if only your face is appealing

I have hand prints on me, I want to peel

With a knife from the kitchen

Of the gentlemen from aristocracy.

My art is, an auction, oh gentleman

Make a bid, on my physique,

The cost is your humility, your self will.

Or sell your identity

The world is obliged to know

Who's the devil.