Look closely..

Your eyes are open
when your eyes are closed,
when you unsee what you’ve seen
and un-know what you’ve known.

Listen up..

Your senses talk sense
when they focus on the inside,
when they don’t get overwhelmed
by the goings-on outside.

Bear in mind..

Your mind is mindful
when it’s focused on the now;
when regret and anticipation
it decides to disallow.

Believe you me..

Your life will get spent
observing mundane blur;
If only you took out the time
to observe the observer.

Do observe the observer.
_*

--

--

We often ponder
the meaning of life,
of existence, our
soul, and the like.
A coin flip away
is the other side,
that we oft-avoid,
that we try to hide.

The meaning of
death, dwell on–
How is it fair for a
being to be gone.
Poof! They vanish,
leaving memories,
earthly things, and
unearthly stories…

--

--

The bright sun has set,
leaving darkness all around;
As the chatter fades away,
scary silence makes a sound..
You have shut your eyes,
shut out your room-mate;
How can you sleep at night
on a bed made of hate?

The bedsheet is tattered,
patterned with polka dots;
Crimson-coloured fabric,
handwoven with gunshots..
You snuggle under your blanket
(which is set to detonate);
How can you sleep at night
on a bed made of hate?

You pop pills of ignorance
with soporific intention;
Your pillow feels soft, while
the mattress holds tension..
Your dreams help you escape
from the nightmares you create;
How can you sleep at night
on a bed made of hate?

How can you sleep at night
on a bed made of hate?
_*

--

--

Aishwarya Verma

Aishwarya Verma

I like poetry, philosophy and fridge magnets.