For loving me, You will have to collect all the broken and dispersed pieces of my soul

I have buried dead bodies of unspoken words in the graveyard of my being

You are an artist, I am an artist, all the people around you and me are artists. Don't try to hide your scars, highlight them with the brush and you'll become an attractive piece of art

Burn me in the warmth of your breath, Dont Let me freeze in this cold hell of numbness

I do not understand it that why is every member of society constantly trying to make us like him or like someone else, why are they having difficulty in accepting our individuality, why are they so afraid of the differences. I think, 'being different' is the most amazing and integral part of our beauty and an individual is someone who is not yet conditioned to act in accordance to the general plot of the story.

He is the happiest guy of the town,Every night after closing the door of his room,He puts his smiling mask on the table.

Talk to me, don't let me feel my emptiness

Not is there the intoxication of books, nor is there the smoke of illusions, not am I denying this life, nor am I claiming the existence, not is there the gladness of silence, nor is there the wish of fairy, There is an infidel insensitivity, And an apostate emptiness.

The silence is becoming more poisonous and I have no one to talk with, not even my own self

I am totally fine with my outward appearance, in fact I am very much happy with it. But when someone gives more importance to my outward appearance than my inner 'me', I get detached from them, automatically.