Break free,

of my inhibitions, I want to,

of my dogma, I need to.

Break free of the chains, that I cannot see.


It is a cold cell,

cold as the forbidden hell.

Is  this your world,

or it’s just me.

Why don’t I get to, break free?

Turn the pages of history.

Turn them left, turn them right,

even there you could find me.

Hidden behind the closed doors,

buried under the soil.

Bombarded with your ingenuity.

The same cold room always,

Always the dreadful chains on me.

Seldom has an endeavour being made,

endeavour to break me free.

They say I am generous,

forgiveness at my decree.

Why do I not remember?

May be I never broke free.

Maybe  I will never break free!


You might be wondering the I in me?

Who put the chains?

What is the story?

Let me give you a glimpse,

A hypothesis to go with your lemon tea.

Follow the trail,

a child leaves with its smile.

You might find the path to break me free, to break me free.

I  might just be your salvation.

A path to resurgence.

Your path to redemption.

If you’re still confused,

Just to let you know.

I am Humanity…








Something like a poem

I once wrote, once wrote something , something like a poem

I wrote the thoughts that cluttered my mind,

and the voices without faces,

whom i could never find.

I once wrote something , something like a poem.


Tried but failed, to jot a few lines. 

The irony in the face of my agony,

the state of my never ending dichotomy.

There was so much, so much to write;

So I once tried something, something like a poem.

Lost in the chaos.

was my identity.

Couldn’t hear the prophet,

speaking behind the voice of my stupidity.

So I once hoped, hoped something like a poem.


It would have all the rhyme in the world.

It could be written with a vibe that was bold.

It would have a flow, till the end.

A flow among the hideous atrocity.

So I once wrote something, wrote something like a poem