Our Different Realms

Don’t compare your realm to mine;
They are completely different.
Even if they have something in common,
You do not have the right
To mess up with my creation.

Watch out
Stay away;
I do not give excuses
Or listen to any apologies.


It’s not about the Beginning

It’s not about the beginning
That you were born facing it
With no decision;
It’s about how you devote
Everything in your life
To create the end
You’ve always dreamt of.

Thick Curtain

The moon stayed all night
Behind a thick curtain
Of flaming fire,
As a passing cloud
Veiled every promising beam,
And drove away
All night’s charm.
Was it just a dream?
If so,
I wish to escape reality
No more!

Your Only Chance

You ought to choose, in life,

A way to go through;

And use your abilities

To chase your dreams.

That’s your only chance

To live up to your taste!

For when the end strikes

There will be only two ways;

But, alas, you will have

Neither a chance nor ability

To choose

Which way to go through!

The Book Of Dreams

Yesterday, I picked up a book from my crowded shelf. It looked odd among the others. Dust had covered almost all its features, even its title and author’s name. I kept wondering if I was the person who brought it or it belonged to another. But once I opened it, I remembered to whom this handwriting belongs. Actually, it was my book of dreams.

A Rolling Question

In one of winter nights
When the moon creeps harshly toward sun,
I looked through the window
And for a second thought;
What if this darkness would forever last?
No more shining rays,
And in the air you can chase nothing
But darkness and scary sounds?
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath,
And to this new world tuned my soul,
Then once I opened my eyes to the horizon again,
I found a shiny ray,
Yet, the sun was not in sight,
Through my head a question rolled
could sun have changed her mind again,
or this light is completely mine?


Heading For Tomorrow

Still living for tomorrow,
Not for today?! 
So be ready; to count your sorrow
Of losing each day.
Pay in vain each day you are living.
Pen your dreams on a blank paper
And wait,
Till they come true themselves,
Stand in your place frozen
With no move,
With no tread,
But then don’t complain
And just be ready;
To count your sorrow
Of losing each day.