A Rebuttal Of Fate

We are built
to be eroded
with the blows of time.

Now when I lose a piece
here or a chunk there,
I hold it tight, the treasure of

love, kept in the safety of heart
sealed with ego;

just don’t hand time
the stilettos of your lashes
to exhume it.

Preserved, this love
will mock the vicious ways
of our fate,

that crumbs us to death
after luring us to life.

Its been re written in light of Cav’s and a few others’ suggestions. I hope its better this time around;

We are built
to be eroded
by the strokes of time.

Time chiseled
to amputate the idols
I sculpted in my dreams;
now it wants to lacerate
my chest, looking
for the reservoir of love
kept in the safety of heart.

Just don’t hand time
the spears of your lashes
to exhume my love–

preserved, it will
mock the turns
of our sadistic fate

interested only in
keeping our ruins intact
after granting us
a handful of breaths.

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A ride on the back of time

541646505_bc780d8052I jumped onto the helm of time
and held the reins of desires
to start off a journey.

A mere trot changed
into racing gallops and it
shuffled each of the sights
I laid my gaze on, keeping
the thirst of my eyes unquenched.
I was shaken off my seat
every time the earth raised
its slumbering head under its hoofs.
Amid the chaos, wishes
turned into curses

I showed time the way,
but it brought me here instead;
to the brink of a world
colored in Grey, raring
to take me along to
the darker shades of obscurity.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.flickr.com

Preserved Traditions

According to the news, 5 women were burried alive in a villiage at Baluchistan.

A million layers of civilzation

placed over the dermis of humanity

by time well beyond the measuring counts

are torn from within, whenever a beast

slashes out of a human form to

repeat his primitive feat

of digging out holes

for daughters of the Eve.

History like a beast keeps tearing

us, while time; the healer

is weary, hence it ceased to soothe

and is even more elusive.