Steadfast Pumping.

My sadness doesn’t seem to be

An emotion any more,

It is thick, it is liquid,

And it fills up my lungs,

Yet leaves enough space,

For breathing to turn into

A Herculean task,

And it is easier to

Simply close my eyes and stop breathing;

It seeps into my blood,

And thickens it,

Until my heart tires.

Yet it stands In its devotion,

Pumping and pumping,

Rather than

Giving up;

I wait for the day

It concedes.

Wrong Perception.

Tears on my pillow,

Blood on the floor,

And then he says,

He loves me more.

A weird sense of love,

Does my darling maintain,

All I wanted was his heart,

All I got were tear stains.

My love has a habit

Of in a single breath,

Saying that he loves me

And burning me down to death.

A unique bond we have

He and I

One couldn’t be more careless with words,

The other ready to die.

Why does he disappear

Every other night,

When the steel kisses my wrists

And I can’t see the light?

In the mornings he returns,

And vanish away my fears,

He has different scents around him,

I’m too drunk to care.

All I feel is relief;

Now you see kid?

It is dangerous to fall in love,

It is too harmful a bid.

Do not believe in what

The fairy tales say,

Love isn’t happiness and smiles,

It is darkness and grey.

Death Alive.

To live is to die daily,
With every breathe you take,
It kills a part of you,
Until one day
You regenerate no more.


Hate hate

Spread all around

Hate hate

Responsible for the chaos abound

                                                                                       Why blame hate?

                                                                                       For all your baseless worries?

                                                                                       The chaos around..

                                                                                       Can be caused by love too

What you say

Holds a certain amount of truth

For all extremes

Cause terrible chaos

                                                                                      But what are these little years  

                                                                                      Of average life worth?

                                                                                      I ask myself  

                                                                                      Jumping, smiling into chaos

The chaos is welcoming

And so is madness

It takes more than a little courage

To hold on to your sanity

                                                                                        I have been sane for too long

                                                                                       Its getting dull now  

                                                                                       I have held back enough

                                                                                        I’m gonna let go now

Letting go has

Its proper consequences

The madness can be tiring

Once you have gotten used to it

                                                                                     But then again, my love

                                                                                     All routine is bound

                                                                                     To get tiring one day… 

                                                                                      Just choose the right one

                                                                                      To get mad or sane with

But life is always cruel

Beyond imagination

There is no surety

That the one you choose

Won’t tire of the madness

Or God forbid, you.

                                                                                      But what’s the other choice?

                                                                                      Not trying at all?

                                                                                      Risk and chance

                                                                                      Cruel as it may be,

                                                                                      That’s what life is

I never said

We take life’s cruelty

As an excuse against risk

It is bravery and sheer stupidity

To go against So great a force

A victorious combination indeed.

                                                                                     I talk of risk and I took one.

                                                                                     Stood firm against the monster you speak of..

                                                                                      Oh, life’s cruelty.

                                                                                      Thought myself strong enough..

                                                                                      And today?

                                                                                      I die every moment longing for death.

                                                                                      This monster shall always prevail.

The monster receives a fatal blow

For every breath you take

Your presence here speaks volumes

For a generation of warriors to come.

                                                                                       But you know the funny part?

                                                                                       Come another day..

                                                                                       I’ll stand firm against the monster again..

                                                                                       For the risk, though a failure, gave me

                                                                                       Moments worth a million lives.

And the monster

Weakened through and through

Will take a shuddering breath

And give away in front of you

                                                                                     That I dare not hope

                                                                                      For the odds are stacked against me

                                                                                      The monster is fueled by luck

                                                                                       While I hold firm my last memories..

The monster exists in differing forms

Spreading hopelessness all around

Could be that the one you next battle

Will be another kind

                                                                                 The light at the end of the tunnel

                                                                                  The dream of breaking through

                                                                                   Is fading away darling

                                                                                   As I crawl deeper and deeper

                                                                                   Into what seems like an endless cave now.

It is only after you crawl deeper

Into the cave of despair

That you will reach the end

And into the light

For you must

Tame your demons

Before you can

Send them away

                                                                             What if the whole point of this torturous crawl

                                                                              Was not to fight demons..

                                                                              But to embrace that you’ve become one.

You take it the wrong way, my angel

For it is the soul

Which holds the potential

To either use stealth and defeat the demons

Or fight them in hopes of a spectacular victory

And turn into one yourself

                                                                             My soul is not as zealous

                                                                             As it once used to be..

                                                                             Its getting kind of tired..

                                                                             Its giving up on me.

I only beseech you

To not give up hope

For it is the best weapon

Against the monster, that we hold                          

                                                                           Is it the same hope you speak of,

                                                                           That sets me up for falls?

                                                                           Seems like a monster itself

                                                                            The nearer it crawls..

The song that you speak of

Is the humming of life itself

The rise and fall, one after another

Show us to be alive, my dear.

                                                                           I know in my heart

                                                                          That what you say is true

                                                                           But its hard to believe

                                                                           When you’re breaking through and through.

                                                                           If being alive Is as torturous as this

                                                                           Sometimes It just feels easier

                                                                           To simply give in..

As iron must suffer

The heat of fires

Before it can duly

Become a magnificent sword

The likes of Excalibur, Cortana and Heosphorus,

So must we at the hands of Fate

Suffer if we are to

Become magnificent warriors.

                                                                        A scarred warrior

                                                                        Worn off by countless battles

                                                                        The image seems glorious

                                                                        But the wounds hurt a lot

But sometimes, my dear

The glory is worth the pain

Those wounds will all heal in time

Leaving back scars

Reminding the world

That even the all-hailed warriors

Have to go through moments

Of terrible weakness

                                                                   You make surmounting

                                                                   The highest peaks

                                                                    Seem easy

                                                                    When a seemingly little hill

                                                                    Has taken my breath away

Then isn’t it lucky

That our weapons are our words,

We can give the world hope

Make them believe

That be it an Everest, or a small hill,

It can be conquered

With steadfastness and patience,

And that time heals all wounds

But leaves behind scars

For us to remember

We too

Were weak once.

– A Mahnoor Saeed collaboration.


Addictions, addictions,

Don’t we all

Have our own?

Haunting us,

Defining us,

Molding us,

Into who we become,

Keeping us

Up at nights


To do anything but

Loose ourselves

In the heavenly bliss

Of sweet escape.

Addictions, addictions

Don’t we all

Have our own kinds?

A drug,

A dream,

A person,

Our personal salvation

From the realities

Of the world.