Often it’s hard to differ pain and joy,Some give up on differentiating

The Moth and Its BelovedAsk the moth the beauty of the candle And it will burn without a confessionThere is a secret to its longing For it feels no fear or hesitationThe moth is too much in love with the flame Yet it does not appear under the sunFor the moon’s light is far too feeble, and It gave up on its pursuit of the sunJust a sight of a candle is enough To remind it of its real belovedSo it settles for that candle in reach, Revels in its heat, and asks to be burned

Find me, as time is a luxuryFor I wait, under this naïve moon

Do you remember how the sun, setOn the occasion, we last conversed?First, it hid behind some lousy cloudsAs I was uttering my dying wordsThen, out it came with a shiny glareAs I grasped the truth of your beauty‘Twas nothing but my own reflectionTo my surprise and curiosity.Now the sun’s told our tale to this townAnd I heard how it had made you smileSo if the thought of me drew a smileThen, I have mastered true lover’s guile

Listen well, as I speak of my upsurge;For I’m a lover, without a loverI am a flame, without a combustionI am a novice, without a mentorI am a healer, without a woundedI am a winner, without a trophyI’m a captain, without a devoteeAnd above all, I’m alone – not lonely

Child of shadows, once born of fleshUn-winged, amidst fear and agony‘Fraid of the lurking and yet to comeOblivious, to the code of chivalry.Voids in his desire were unveiled, asLove taught him; death with dignity.In desire to be and in wanting to liveHis wretched soul began to purge,As he wept at the beauty of nightHe commenced to sing his own dirge,Then born again of fire; ascended,Like Phoenix must burn to emerge.

It is the fire that consumes me;It is an inexplicable love,It is the rain that calms me;It is a melody from above.It is the wind that humbles me;It is everywhere and nowhere,It is the sand that fuels me;It is the artistry of nature.I’m consumed by what I am,I’m calmed by a riotous noise,I’m humbled through arrogance,I’m fueled by what is in poise.I’ve much cherished the mystifying,I’ve heard the unreal symphonies,I’ve been moved by the inevitable,And I’ve hailed the epiphanies.

My poetry has been engraved with your nameAnd my heart is by your memory scarred

These fragments, these shivers of my heartAre mere lifetimes enclosed in a minute