The Mask

A world devoid of afflictions,
Flestooned around in teal-hazed flowers.
Barren; of sorrows, of worries and woes.
Star-adorned for his mirthful face, so apparent.

There is no anguish to pain him.
There is no pain to perplex.
His is the perfect life, unalloyed.
And only if that were true.

But his frolic hides a heavy ache.
His glee hides a gloom,
About to break free any moment,
And deluge like the fire that consumes him, inside-out.

A strange fatigue sweeps over him,
Of being the jester to their miseries.
While those his own ravage his soul
To the very brinks of his life.

Yet, he walks beside, when you feel gone
Holding you up while himself forlorn.
He cheers you up, forever smiles,
While his frail self invokes to die.
His grin still masking his melancholy.

Expectations

Something to be done your way
You try so hard, there's nothing to say.
What they say is truly true.
Expectations only disappoint you.

What you want to hear,
Will never be said.
Promises to you
Will never be kept.
You face will hold a shock, not new.
Your expectation will only disappoint you.

The ones you want
Will never talk.
The ones you love
Will never share.
Your words will come back to pierce you.
Your expectation continues to disappoint you.

Don't they love you? You do suspect.
Don't they care or do they forget?
Do they only want to disconnect?
But darling, the truth is to never expect.

I tried, trust me I did.
Tried to expect just the littlest bit.
No reciprocals will you ever receive.
Just you and that quote will cry deceived.

And then you'll want to try again,
To expect and expect and expect again.
And in every turn, you'll end the same.
You swear not to repeat but repeat again.

Oh dear, what a shame.

The Twinge

A load of emptiness crushed,
Crashed, stained a silent solitude.
The waves of glee quicked to recede,
And a strange weight of nothingness followed.

Did attempt not to think over, not to obsess,
with thoughts dismayed, depressed.
I implored what those had been,
and still wait for an answer to pass.

It was but a void, yet brimmed with inhibition,
An unending sorrow that lingered to haunt.
And I longed for the reply to it.
And I long for the end to it.

To be crowded was the isolation,
To be isolated was the peace.
Yet, the peace shrieked in pain,
A noise too loud to be heard.

Still persists the toil, the twinge,
to free myself from me,
from my vacant, yet crowded, mind,
from nihility.
         
               -- Shourya Shrivastava

Notes:-

• Twinge- A sharp emotional pain.
• Nihility- non-existence, nothingness.

Until She Dies And Dies Again...

With Reference to  Hyderabad Gang Rape-Murder .

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The first week of strengthened show,

A few verses with heavy blow.

Walls brimming with gloomy shares,

Everyone hurt, everybody cares.

 ⧫

The mobs march with lit candles,

Greater sorrow in media handles.

The ‘royals’ yet in slumber deep,

“Let us let the masses weep.”

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A fortnight more, another case will be born.

Who now cares about those dead and gone?

And this one sinks unattended too,

Surprising yet expected through.

⧫

All slack until it happens again,

Until she dies and dies again.

Until those freaks are burned alive,

The wait for justice eternalized.

Lost In A World That Doesn't Exist... (Sonnet)

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A figmented thought, A dusky tryst,
A glance upwide and change is swift,
Virtual worlds with masking mist,
Lost in a world that doesn't exist.
💠
The time is bleak, the shore is afarred,
And here I sail with a soul charred.
To guise the void no one sees,
In a lost world,with lost peace.
💠
The blood goes black, The pain is stark,
The wound unheals without a mark,
Lost is glee, the curves are lost,
Shadowed smirks in mythical costs.
💠
Still I stand with a weaponed fist,
To fight this world that doesn't exist.