BloggerPushkin

"And in those dusty cities I found a soul much pretty Raised up Among own fellow beings Just like a scoop of ice cream Getting served in those tall buildings; Taught Not to get carried away by small wings And limit own servings. A shadow that everyone would follow Dreaming being one of the fellow... A soul that was an alchemist of it's own Accompanied by all known And not letting in any unknown; And In the years became famous To be caricatured by own eyes and the nature."  - Pushkin Channan

"The rituals performed The fire lit To the life that was quit. Last Rites Vanished delights Those sleepless nights And to those turned off Room' Lights.... Candle lit Under the picture She admit The lies that were said The truths that were kept The talks that were denied The emotions that were deried... A wish unfulfilled A desire, a hope that got KILLED." - Pushkin Channan

"In those teardrops, I search for the reflection Of the love that went missing For the fool starving for affection. Those missed directions, And long forgotten perfections  Overshadowed by imperfections... Through the people's love Mixed with jealousy That missed the purity And, diluted with DISPARITY. To those street drives I'll always be unthankful For I found a soul Filled with love; that vanished With the city's dust... And in MY TEARDROPS I'll search for the reflection......" - Pushkin channan

“Sometimes I wish I was the alchemist of my own death With the dates set being forgotten And the body getting worse from normal…. The mortals laid down to rest Making self free from life's unrest In the most dramatic manner. And I wish, my falling apart matters Though I know, it won't bother. Just another day, added to rest of the calendar dates Where I, once, lived with my own pace Now being visited by my mates The picture that hold the same smiling face Narrated millions story Of which none could be COMPLETED.” - Pushkin Channan