When

When emotions inside

We so desperately try to hide

It’s like fighting a battle

Against the rising tide.

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Twin Flame

What you seek, is seeking you – Rumi

It’s the walls I’ve built
That keep you out
That keep you and me
From being free.

In you I see myself
Like in a mirror I stare
Of naked soul and troubled mind
It’s the fear rising
From deep within
Like a sea during a tide.

Unexpected and true
Powerful virtue
Of a bond
Transcending time.

Like twin flames
We burn bright
Each burns on its own
But together
We start a fire
We burn the lie apart.

In words I find solace
The things I can’t say
Ink as my outlet
Paper as my friend.

We’re burning bright
Pulled when apart
Flames that long to become fire
And all it takes is a spark.

I never felt love
Not the real thing
Now when I met you
It’s like this painful wound
Born out of sting.

And I find it hard
To tell you how I feel
Therefore I write
I pen the emotions down
Because energy needs a release.

Maybe I am a mental case
Maybe I write to feel
To feel that which
I am scared of
When I am with you.

I now know
That life is not an equation
That love is not a sensation
It is poetry not a prose
It is pain as well as joy.

It’s like when I am with you
The universe untangles
Shows itself through
Gives me the signs
To let me know
That our love
Is not a gamble.

Like long way back in time
I threw the dices of life
I bet on truth not a lie
And I won you
You as my prize.

I’ve been threading carefully
All my life
Avoiding every broken shard
Every torn on the way
And it all changed
When you came
Now I am ready
Ready to jump into the fire.

EGO

We walk proud believing in our roles

Carrying head up high but can’t see past our nose.

False identity controls the eternal power within

keeping God trapped in a shallow shell of a being.

Unaware of our true selves we became slaves of our thoughts

Schizophrenic lunatics imagining control.

Strings pulled make us dance to someone else’s tune

Keeping the truth in the mist of deceit,

Like the greatest trick pulled by the devil to┬ámake us believe he didn’t exist,

Our own lives became but our own to live.

There are times we forget how time is non existent

There is no inspiration in improving yourself
it only exists when you are with the pain.

The harsh truth is
somewhere deep inside
the pain is the one
that actually writes.

When you release the pain
you stop to create.

Even the most beautiful of minds
have a dark side.

When we improve we look at the future
when we write we look in the past.

Reality of it is
that only the words of the broken ones
are the one with the touch.

Memory transforms
feeling lasts forever.

Words are in all of us
burried below layers
of unforgiveness and guilt.