kartiksharma

if you ever look, into the eyes of an artist, I promise you, my dear, you will lose who you think you are, and find, who you are. -ktk #IAMART

He's a dragon lily, Dawning in the summer Opening his eyes in hope It glows as it's pacified to find, even on the extinction of his family, His heart that glows on the gili.

Silent words take over the witch hours, And flutter with the fireflies, It's as if they pretend to be stars, That ignite the charcoal sky. And as they glow, they gleam twofold, Once in the beautiful moonlit sky, And then in the ocean of my mind, That reflects every bit of its winsome. Painted in the beauty of such seeming stars, For they say you reap what you sow, Did these words bleed into the sky from the profound? Lost admist their surreal beauty, I don't know. These pseudo-fireflies slick in their craft, Paint emotions, hopes and scars, What irony that such restless proficients, Come only when I lay tiresome. Their surreal transmiss

In exchange of hugs-kisses, The charades of love, hatred and gossip, It's a masquerade of friendship

Within darkness I writhe, as his whispering blows wither my lips to autumn, I know every stone of this floor, colored with congealed carmine that oozed off my eye Your talons grasp my shoulder, a vulture clutching carrion close to it's beak Your serpent fangs shatter all sensation in my shoulder your knife makes my broken veins howl for plasma, your purple haze chokes the air off me A crown of thorns are the remnants of my pride crying its demise, As you whisper your howled haunted horrific hallucinations The cries of my dried throat have been clasped in unheard silences. A false sunrise grasps my heart in its leather fingers, My eyes open

Painted in rainbows like a little girls dreams, Who knew they will turn into hallucinated howled horrifying screams, I want to hold you, open your beautifully sculpted arms, Dressed as a rose, it's a bed of thorns, The boundaries of distance and time we share, Running away from the Suns glare, I want to be yours, one and only, But the time tells me I'm forever lonely, I'm the character and then pen is in your hands, Change our story so forever we can, Never fall, but rise in love, Hold my heart inside your glove, I'll be your Jack and you'd be my Jill, Together we'll cross the Happily Ever After Hill, So hold me tight and never let go,

Counting years and it's been 5, you're happier than ever and I don't despise, every year, this day, I open this book, dust off the dirt and clean it with my brook... Flipping pages and counting crows, The scars fade and don't go, Need to blanket this hole, that shivers the heart and torments the soul... Blame my memory for remembering every word you said, Every single fantasy is trapped in my head, As I get used to this one sided play Feelings now slowly dry away... The connection of the hearts along seven continents becomes thin, But the heart still wants the touch of your skin, As you become one with someone else your touch peels away, I

I spot you from far, With your hands on the bars, You're doing yoga, you see me, Look down and give a glee. We flow past each other like a cool winter breeze, Enjoying the sensation of tacit feelings release, Words unspoken and no greetings exchanged, Just shyly looking at one another like a couple newly engaged. But as soon as it's 8, it's late and you leave early, Or if I sit close you maintain distance surly, No signals given, right or wrong, We're strangers after all, familiar to unsung love songs. And one last breeze blows as you leave, A little goodbye glance and then we proceed, These sensations felt with so many yet nobody says, Th

In this sea load of minerals, she's one of the mermaids, looking for her finest of pearl who lives as a mirage everytime, She gave up on many "almosts" To find the most perfect Maybe there is no perfect Maybe there is no love A love as perfect as a pearl.

Expectations killed the healed dove, All her feelings bare, covered by glove, All that she wanted was wisest of love, She thought she had it this time. She blindfolded herself and grew up too early, And too a flight off to Paris and Brunei, The deepest of fears hit the deary, When the promising winds let her fall. She dreamed too much, assumed some more, Even after she fell she thought she'd sore, But life has something else in store And now, she cannot fly until next life. "What was it?" she asks, "What was my crime?" She burns when the ravens fly with another dime, Well birdie you flew before it were time, Another unripened fruit falls f