Dead Flowers

My eyes are closed and the only thing I sense is nothing. I don’t know what sound shall guide this feeling, but it is happening. In the grave of my mind where the sand is the stillness of this universe. The dark space where I Inhibit within and without.

She would kiss me with flowers. Petals on my dead skin and I don’t know how to tell her this but I think my body has given up years ago. Now that I understand that only my desires lived and not my intent. Might sound all the darker, this space inside my head and I have nothing to say those kisses or the flowers that will eventually die with the fraction of time. I cannot see you anymore because I don’t want to. Yes, I understand that you are practical and none of this makes sense to you. It doesn’t have to make sense to anything at all. Senses are frail weak conscious traps.

I am a young dead man. And these thoughts are surfaced out of the five minutes that my eyes were closed and nothing disturbed. I carefully sensed my death. How in darkest breaths of the space, I would feel these dead flowers touch the earth in all sincerity.

It was never meant to be. Nothing was ever meant to be, but it did happen. Now I don’t really know from where I have the audacity to hurt everyone around me by saying that all of this that we sense is a web and the more we think, the more intense is the trap.

But it won’t be long until the flowers kissing my dead body becomes one with me. That’s what is meant to be. The slow degradation of senses. My dearest fellows might come to feed the dead flowers with some drops of tears, the clouds I mean are fairly dominant to the skies of life. The cries shall help sincerity reach its salvation.



I have lost myself in the reverie called reality and I need to regain all my spiritual sense. It has been a while since I have extended the limited characters and novels that I started a year ago.  Intuition was the fuel to a surreal sense, as silence would pave the way to absolute sound.

In attempts to continue, I interacted with experiences, but the dependency on the experiences have made the silence disappear. With this article, I shall attempt to gain the silence again. I have been addicted to certain activities and that is also adding on to the exploitation of my exhausted spirit. I named this blog, Spiritsights for a reason that I understand now. It has always been intuition.

Lately, I have been dependent on material object and humans to extract muse. But this practice has ruined my artistic calibre to the core and I need to get back.

I shall practice meditation and intuitive flow, whether it makes sense or not, that is not my concern for I am sure very few actually read. For those who read, you shall find an interesting pattern of automatic writing. It is an experiment to revive the Spiritsight.

Sailing Sun

“Do you know how it feels?”

” To be possessed by lust?”

“No, to write a poem.”

“I never lose myself entirely like this, this cannot be good.”

“I barely find myself stable enough. I am always lost, yes, not to that extent. Kissing you is different. To suck the nectar from the life that was left with a little rush of blood.”

“You are crazy.”


I sat down and she kept standing. I wanted to feel the ground for the first time in my life, she was standing the same way, because she wanted to meet the sky. But I sat down, you see, I knew, that I was at the centre of my universe. Next, to a tree and a girl I love, who I just kissed losing all my senses. How weird it is at times when you cannot explain it all to the closest person there is, how amazing it feels. To be honest, it was really scary as well, to see her stand when the sun was finally setting and it was time for us to sleep. But she never sleeps. She just wants to fly and never to be bound by the arms of faith. That’s why I love her, but I want to hold her.

I love you like a poison loves to kill and at times I cannot help.

“Take a walk. Fly. We shall meet some other day when you like.”

“Yes, alone will be better for both of us.”

“It is an old forest. Please take care”

You know what, Sweetheart?

A band playing,
A night,
And a crowd,
Where I have my hand around your waist as usual,
And we see the little glimmer in each other’s eyes,
A little swift,
Then we kiss,
And as the song ends,
We both know where to begin.
In the car,
Headlights to North,
Hearts to sail forever,
Let’s go to the lake! You said,
I think you would like to drive,
On the passenger seat,
Like Sam to your Dean,
Let’s just be.
It all pacifies me,
Your eyes, and to look at the country side sleep,
What beautiful coarse for you to smile,
As our headlight crashes into the shadows of the night,
The lake you infer was deep within,
The mountains,
The empty roads,
The wind,
Your beautiful hair,
Some colour you blend then,
And I imagine now,
What would it be,
Blue rather than the sound?
We might have our common guitar at the back,
And ofcourse I will sing the lap,
Only to see you grin at those broken lines,
Only to find myself in our lonely time.
In the nights,
When we would be alone,
Like those walks,
We took abroad,
To trees that people would never know,
Dear death surreal life,
How it all restores,
Glimpse of the glimmer in your eyes,
I wonder how I will sleep next to the heart that is mine.

Narnia’s Cold Heart (Enceladus)

Narnia is the name of the allusive beautiful woman who never got to travel out of her own body. Beethoven held the violin and extracted so much, but somehow there were times that even the finest music could not hold her universe intact.

The night is approaching and my ship shall crash the moon anytime. It is called Enceladus. It looks like a frozen heart. Cold and alone in the dark. People say there is life inside. But all I know right now is that there is a chance that the cold surface never breaks and I die.

I would tell Narnia, that the world is at times darker than we perceve and she would argue that it was all light and we were sleeping. As I am being pulled by the minute gravity of Narnia’s frozen heart, I wonder, if she was ever told how beautiul the pull was, how amazing it would be for a man like me to fall in love with her. She was young because she stood still adoring the world she cannot reach and I was old enough to crash into love.

Once in for all.

Love sustains time better than death.

Dear Narnia, there will be a time when your heart shall melt, because the sun shall appoach the lost planets. For now, here I am about to make you feel a rush inside with all my life.

I love you,

A lost life.


“Farhan! Let’s go play. It is time.”

“Coming Brother.”

It was a hot june evening, I was waiting for farhan outside his house. He came running down to sit behind me on the bicycle. It was Ramsan and he was on a fast, these days, it was always be who would take him to the countryside to play cricket.

I was a better bowler, I would spin the cricket ball and the turn would always take it in between the stumps. Farhan would laugh, he was so different from all of us, would play with a smile always. He was fat, but so quick, and would bat so well at times.

We played for a few hours and then he almost fell down to meet the ground in all its glory.

“Man, I dont think so that God is happy with your fasts.”

“Hahaha! I dont know. Abba is, thats enough. You fast too, Navratre.Isnt it the same?”

“Well, I wonder. lets go back, you are tired.”

The clouds came upon the open green fields, Farhan didnt even move, He wanted to greet the rain with the same efforts.

On the night of the big celebration, I was invited by Farhan’s family for the feast. The walls of his house were decorated, but the colours wont even move ahead to capture joy. Everything was awfully still when I entered the place. I went to his room and found everyone there, standing around his bed. He was laying, trying to breathe.

“What happened!”

He tilted his head and looked at me, “It made God happy. He is coming to take me.”


He smiled. It was raining.


Hey wine,
Like yesterday, you were mine.
It was beautiful,
Brisk, old and forever like,
Dancing with my veins,
Singing of love.

Hey night,
Just tonight, come again,
Let’s make it alright,
Like the last line,
Scribbled in my heart,
– Your Name.

Hey Arka,
I will sing in secrets,
To unlock our doors,
Made of strings and stars,
Hanging on our hearts,
As we dance under their chandelier,
It tickles, remember?

Your dress was made of rivers,
I was the burning sun at times,
The other way around,
Warm in love,
Flying to the forever,
Let’s keep dancing,
Let’s keep living,
Keep loving,