The Heavenly Bodies Of Mind

The good for bad and bad for good is a shrinking and shining matter,
But the youth of world has never wondered how they matter to worldly wonder.

The greatest thing, agony has covered the stupid beautiful minds
The simplest thing, forgiveness has churned up into fateful grinds,

The busiest thing, money has made the world disguise,
The smallest thing, religion has made the universe despise.

The biggest thing, time has made the humble souls, intrusive,
The false thing, sin has made relentless minds, possessive.

The good sight of life is the man’s ancestor,
But the bad conclusion of mind is predator.

Man stared the human nature, which was likely to die,
But he made it a fearful theology that shaped it into a spy.

Mind has the huge thoughts that can change sight,
But the supreme bodies of mind depend upon his might.

The anatomy of soul is not a proper sixth sense,
But the man power in the world is always immense.

The Ventriloquist

He moves around the town,
With his marionette and red gown,
His eyes below his innocent brow,
And legs in dark with speed slow,
A thin and therapeutic heart,
With hands ready to dart.

Moving around country's perimeter miles,
Seeing the people with aristocratic smiles,
He jumps above the pebbles,
Slides across the grass
And carry his tranquil puppet
Named Shibu-The Marionette.

A sudden evening causes him great distress,
For his work is over before children and mistress,
He passes his day with great ease,
But nights are serene and heartsease,
And every morning is a new sear,
For he turns on, his mouth gear.

He performs with different feelings,
Against the odd and even livings,
He feels the pleasance when he succeeds,
And deny his earning when he defeats,
He obtuse his gusto with Shibu,
And deserts précised bad review.

He thinks for large but never gets to march,
He lives on a pound and vegetables' starch,
Jugglers and indolent audience are his supporters,
For he again tops on laborers and black porters,
Still he moves around the town,
With Shibu and red gown.

Time

A truth or spy
Time comes and says bye
The roar that sounds
And fades in secret impounds

It waits for nobody
It stands with its own buddy
Time is harsh and serene
Though it is fast and hurrying
Time is a thought or belief
Its we to overleaf
We stand over it
Or drown near it

It has no mercy or faith
It just passes unscathed
It turns back when it is ordered
Or uphold its journey when not ordered

Somebody has harness of time
Its is still bound and mime
We the thespian who performs
On its saying and die due to reforms
Is of no mean as its duty
Is to massacre and impurity


Though it has the one
It has other which is good one
Time and its advantages
Are realized and it never wages
We feel it and try to capture
The thief who is talented than our fracture

The thinking of time when performed
Or written down have always outperformed
Time when with us, termed as luck
When away, we describe it as bad luck


However the production of time
Comes automatically after chime
That throngs our altitudes
And starts new multitudes

Immortality would be perfect
And more chastity would also be perfect
It is away from its family
That surrounds the vast universe lily

The world of tomorrow
Comes day after sorrow
Away from anyone
Comes in someone
Goes from someone
And feels to anyone
It is procedure that never ends
It pedals until its tired hands
But beware there are still whirlpools
That comes in vast time schools
Time is infant yet to be milked
It never grows to adult as it always yields

Internal Soul of Mind

The dawn of mind is awake
To make a fearful bold fake

The soul is making its way through the darks
To say, it does have a shining foot marks

Heavenly bodies of mind are wandering
They don’t know what they are searching

Here and there, they are possessing possessive
And with passing they are becoming aggressive

The internal soul is quiet and despise
The world is becoming disguise

The super most thing, anger is covering the minds
The smallest thing, forgiveness is changing the finds

Laughter in soul is vanishing
Hatred and anger is powering

Peace of mind depends upon one’s sight
Every thing of life depend upon might

A Mythical Semblance

The truth and gust we see around
Are real but still bound to sound
The relation between us just relates
The energy around us falsely deflates

The time bound power of supernatural
Is not the supernatural but a culture
Everything on earth is controlled
By nearest and farthest by a hold

Does the supernatural subsists
Or does it just persists
The scenario so beautiful in it
Ties the knot of an unknown split

The creatures of globe are two odd
One by god and other by its god
The boundless energy still strives
The man and occult still purviews

The oculus of valet are still colour blind
But still they are brooked by others inclined
The cosmos of divinity reckons on us
The farthest community still counts on us


If the divinity and human race conjoint
The rhythm of creation would disjoint
And the macrocosm would end
When god and humanity shall stand

The eyes of humanism is still colourless by one
Because it can’t view the colourless colour by some
The duo can talk among but can’t see
The divine soul as it is just decoloured bee

We, if see the supernatural
Then we would be parallel
And duo and its god would not
Be there and universe shall distort

The aim of achieving some affair

Would be a strand of hair
And the trio of existence would just vanish
In high bush of endless and incensed polished

The prophecies of today and past
Was just dignified by subtle last
The last of duo and divine
Vaticinator of fourth dimension is perfectly fine