An army of men I got,
it all came unsought,
not had by many that bought,
why crave army of women tart?
not sexual though I a pervert,
but to satiate childhood introvert,
that fought to become this extrovert,
though shattered my fort;
an army to make,
and not break,
who better than girls that don’t fake,
an army of girls I’ll leave in my wake;
an army to defeat hell’s wrath,
to make heaven of this earth.
Only when you realize there is a god and he is powerful that you hate him most and become stubborn to reject heaven for hell.
Peter guarding heaven’s gates declared,
from now gates open not on character,
but on talent, as a huge commotion flared,
hate to wait, thought going hell, entry swift;
a potter showed a magnificent vase,
was let in and there he entered smiling,
another a trader purchased his space
with his weight in gold, coins tumbling;
an artist showed painting not great,
and was sent away to depths of hell,
a poet came and met the same fate,
his words shallow, not much to tell;
My turn came and judging me was said that I belonged,
neither heaven nor hell but purgatory for talents wronged.
Parched lips seek ambrosia,
not suffice the earthly water,
ungratified seek euthanasia,
such force of habit, no shorter;
the nectar carried places ethereal,
high heavens and bittersweet hell,
moulded in a way that seemed real,
why stop journey where all is well;
hanging blissfully awake near sleep,
body and soul torn from grief to relief,
lost forever in a magical kingdom deep,
why leave now and turn what new leaf;
he who prefer life salted not sweet,
let him wet lips till he white as sheet.
The litter in my brain is horrid,
the smell of my soul is putrid,
not cleansed by a dip in the Ganges,
which has been polluted for ages;
why had I become such?
can idleness affect soul this much,
I am thus not by any bad influence,
but with people around, a lack of confluence;
hopeless as I was, there must be more like me,
chained and bellowing, struggling to break free,
the bad thoughts and deeds, do they count?
but what is good and what bad, how surmount?
I don’t worry of hell and not ask heaven for me,
all I ask is to be strong to help another’s plea.
Before the night is over
the world shall kiss my feet,
Drunk on pride, I’ll never be sober,
all pains and sorrows shall beat retreat;
Before the night is over
she should come bowing to me,
beseeching not to be the vengeful lover
I’ll sadistically enjoy it with Glee;
My family, blood relations, friends
shall serve me stooping beneath me,
all dreams true with none that contends
or opposes my anger and cruel decree;
for this is my last night on Earth
towards hell I breathe my last breath.
What is this life
one minute boisterous
Why live it at all
wish we were in mother’s womb cloistered
forever from harsh pressures non flustered.
It ain’t a choice
one just shouldn’t have a chick
for no one is ever there to stick.
What is to live
to drive, push and shove around
where is hidden the old playground.
What is hell
the earth where all live in terror
and devil, just look in the mirror.
What is heaven
it is in our bank account and clock together
just got to unfollow one and slow the other.