Same soul... the lame soul

As depression takes over
and life is in trots
you know the time has come
to pen down your thoughts.

But where is the underlying story?
inspiration nowhere in sight
your own life is so void of fun
you search for stories in other people's lives.

Interesting person is like an open book
extrovert's life is already unfolded
the introvert who closed all doors to the world
is the subject whose life can be easily moulded.

Got a good start but then lost the way
you know today you're not at your best
but compulsion to search and write the story
forces you to just fake the rest.

Your philosophy of life sounds perfect to all
and with all the audience, it struck the chord
but you had messed up with the real story
your conscience knows you don't deserve the applaud.

Maybe what happened was unknown to you
your own life was what followed the start
self-restraint failed you and emotions took over
you wrote that came straight out of your heart.

Good writers don't let their story out
but what you did will take it's toll
you'll try harder to be exactly the opposite
but you still remain the same soul... the lame soul.

Turn around... walk away!

Philosophies of past, that all talk about
on how it doesnt matter anymore
but each and every person walking on this earth
has lived in his past, thru the forbidden door.

Isnt the present interesting enough?
with future still uncertain
but we go back, good or bad
to live the time we already had.

We think we live the moments of joy
we think, no matter what, we never gonna cry
we find solace in all that went right
and guard the moments which ever shone bright.

But you know well, thats not the case
no joyful moment ever came to your mind
you remember who hurt you the most
not the one who was the most kind.

Coming back from the memory, short or long
you get that face, that gave you the jolts
was never your friend and out of the blue
he judged you right, found your faults.

People judge you at every step
some may be right, some may not
but the fact that you still remember the incident
shows something you didnt want to, but he got it out.

Your past has played on you again
your conscious mind was too easy to sway
your only chance to get out of the maze
is to turn around... walk away!

Part of me is gone...

In this world of words
there's something called "satisfaction"
never got the feel of it
not even for a fraction.

Maybe this is all i deserve
but i refuse to accept this fact
something more... is what i think of
high ambitions still intact.

Hopes and dreams do sound good
add to that, "i'm different" mentality
but all they do to me is one thing
losing touch with hard-core reality.

Is it true that i am no different??
millions like me swarming this place
then all of us, for sure, are captives
caught up in this puzzling maze.

To show the difference, i need to stand up
but find it tough to cross the lines drawn
reason for this is not new to me, because
part of me is here, part of me is gone.

Silence is deafening...

Beyond the thin red line
where the conscience doesnt allow
trying to be what u are not
forced to take a bow.

You kill your soul without mercy
lying awake in sleepless nights
just to hide your real self
losing endless fights.

The day u find yourself deserted
that'll be the end, not the beginning
lying alone in that grave room
you now realise "Silence Is Deafening"