Petrichor

It's the smell of soil post a fall,
The streets flow to the chiffchaff's call,
An ambrosial odour overtakes
And my sense breathes,
Wishes to breathe forever.
Like the water cold in earthen pots,
In the summer bliss, like mud cots,
Like nostalgia of cherished days,
Like villages and wet hay,
The clay sings and staggers my sense.

Like my thirst quenched with brooked water,
Like the earthy scent of the wheel of a potter,
Like the unreal haze of a hilly walk,
Like dew dripping down green stalks,
Like leaves drinking again for good,
Reminiscence of my childhood.

The petrichor is more than a redolence,
It's a bundle of emotions,
Of memories, Of joys and sorrows,
Of nostalgia, and the smell of bygone days.

A World Full Of Lies (Sonnet)

It's a guilty world no full of bliss,
Shattering truths lie amiss.
It's fib, a tale of gospels shrieking
A fable, no fiction, libels peaking.

Glaring smirks of crafted ruse
To sleights of life, all bemused.
Deceptive eyes on flattering faces,
Masks to hide their vicious cases.

To die is a lie, to live no truth.
An eye for an eye, tooth for tooth.
All deceit, defame, deceive, detract,
Distort all true and pull their tact.

They revile the truth that underlies,
Evade the word, in a world full of lies.

Interstellar

It's night at a place night is all,
The earth is a grain of sand
Lost in the ocean of black
Dotted in pearls of white,
Floating in dark nothingness, an increasing void.

To each pearl her own world,
Worlds beneath each world.
Eyes defeating the chase of time,
Countless walks away, the world of mine.

I lived as if I lived the best,
But this dark tells there's more to be,
So much more than human transcend,
A calm in chaos, it speaks to me.

All the woes, all botherings,
Now smaller than a pinch of my hand.
Peace and placid, silence surrounds,
A trillion miles, and all unmanned.

A black expanse, no sight of land,
No weeping man, no screeching screams
I wish one day I could lease this life,
To live through all my interstellar dreams. 

-Shourya Shrivastava

My Mirror Laughs

I stand before the mirror,
My reflection mocks me for being me.
Hollowed out by tears apart,
My tears which move every night all alone,
My tears which wash away
The gloom of pain, the pain of gloom,
The voids of anxiety,
The guilts in gaiety,
The worries and woes,
Which wash away a party of me
The heart of me, my misery, my mystery.

The polish laughs at a body unfit,
On flooded eyes, on loss of grit.
On thoughts to end this breath forever
For a thousand reasons
And a thousand to never
I can feel it within me,
My glee emptied by hours of deafened cry
My mind at bleak, the brink of goodbye.
I miss my gran who left me why.
But this is every night.

And soon the sky will turn white
My tears stole the sigh of night
I'll hide my face and wear a mask
But the sun will set and tears return
My mask unveils and anxieties stun.
I lament in blues,
Then, all starts again.

My reflection laughs.

The Star Herself

The eyes do her talking,
For her voice decided restrain
Like the glitter of white,
On this star-struck night,
Their shine speaks for them.

Twinkle eyes behold the stars twinkle.
Glowing eyes on a palm-sized face.
As if stars, which though unfathom huge,
Glint like minuscules on the black canvas of the dark sky.

She has a passion to stargaze,
A love beyond dimensions,
Of secrets and confessions,
Of permanence,
A love devoid of betrayal.

The ocean laps and swaddles the bay,
Her feet impression the sand beneath
The eyes still set admiring the black,
She is the star herself, a star away.

The Night Dreams Bled (A War Poem)

The earth cracked, shook the bricks,
A deafening thud with a death tryst.
The air pierced by swords and rifles,
Silence silenced by burning bibles.

Lives forced out of homes,
Out of love and out of bones,
Out of care, out of their share,
All you hear are fatal moans.

The dove was killed yesterday,
As shrooms of smoke took over the face of Earth,
Nations bled as people fled.
Scar-let turns the soil of mirth.

The war savage does more ravage,
Until we lead to cataclysmic doom.
My sleep breaks in time for good
And the battledust barely negates my room.

A Word's Worth

They say words don't matter,
But they do.
Ignore all you want,
But the word is true.

Words spoken ages ago,
In humour, angst or heavy blow,
All unite to pierce fine,
At the apt place and apt time.

Words spoken to your face,
Or those behind your back you heard.
Turning you against you,
Word to word.

Words that didn't matter then,
Words you didn't care about.
Words flung upon you,
Now is silence, now you shout.

You act like there's no care,
But the night gets darker,
And in the dark on your thoughtless mind,
Words wage a war,
And pain is all that's left behind.

Words preceded by "no-offence"s and "don't-mind"s,
Those latent in hurtful lines,
Words not meant to be taken to heart,
And words, they're so full of art.

Words pain, words hurt,
Words they lie with honesty.
Words, they speak and words, they shriek
Words, they're laced with mystery.

Paradise

(Dedicated to the town of Dalhousie)

A vision intense, no words pretense,
A placid for eyes, a stunned sense.
Blue peaks through foggy eyes,
The fog breathes to mesmerize.
The sol seldom gives a hint,
Though the sod does enough.
The whites and greens melange through,
To blink your eyes is oh so tough.

A pinch full of dotted township,
Gallons full of paradise.
Creamy frostings on sloped canopies,
Clouds lined with milky white.

My soul is captive of this pearl of eye,
To free myself, I will not try.
Play along, I wish I could.
Had the world not called me home.
Home back to crowded voids,
To scattered papers, to deafened cries,
To shadowy smirks of no paradise.