The sheer nuances of

Her photogenic face

Could have been brighter

And would be icing on her ace,

If her deliberate attempt

To become a perfectionist

Could have been ignored

By millions of fandom and chauvinist;

But then,

How many of those letters

She has actually read

Which may make her a self-whisperer?


Probably I Am Her Worst Fear

Probably I Am Her Worst Fear

Is there a light somewhere

Around the corner

And the shadow’s coming closer

To tell me the truth about her?


The one who feels fickle

About your call, message or meeting

The one who needs colorful chatter

In the distant village for rejuvenating


The sentences coming out of her are so honest

And often make you wonder how she thinks

But I am glad that

She learned one or two things about herself

From my unintentional surprise and wordings!

Isn’t She A Cape Crusader?

Isn’t She A Cape Crusader?

I would have to breed
A million words
Before she looks up
While finishing a few slurs.
I say less than I thought I should say.
When I actually whisper,
Her well-rounded eyes
Glares in the distance
Then it comes back to me.
The smile doesn’t fade away
In the momentous silence.
As she slips in her couch
My eyes amusingly approve
Of her any silly action
But did I miss to look at her wings
Which elude the meaning of freedom and reverence?
I sure did.
She creaks her magical stick
In the abbreviation of life senses.
To gladly save every soul in earth
And to uphold her existence in the world,
She becomes a cape crusader!

For the Amusement of Probably Timeless Love

For the Amusement of Probably Timeless Love

As the wind churns out

Its part of the song,

Her deadpan face glooms in the street light

For a thoughtless gimmick to perform.


There might be some chances

Of our eye-contacts,

But her mummified gigs

Are veraciously lost in the sentence.


I am losing it all

In the battle of hearts;

My continuous rage has come out in poetry

To breathe life to instil love in intervals!

She, Not Dreamy But Has Dreams

She, Not Dreamy But Has Dreams!


Waves are coming in the bulk

For the new breeze to sink,

It’s hard to get my eyes off of her

When she laughs like a queen.



She blinks in the geared vortex

To let her semantics right,

It’s weaselling for me to decipher

With her open-closed opinion about her desire.



I guess it will transform to a new shape

Conforming to her eventual dream.

And yeah, I will be smiling in adoration

And showing my affection through a theatrical greet!