Poetry work

  Jab tak chalengi zindagi ki dhadkane, Kahin pyaar, kahin takraav milega. Behad banenge kayii rishte tumhare,  Bohot kam logo se tumhe saccha pyaar milega Kahin banenge paraye rishte tumhare Kahin apno se hi khichaav milega, Tum toot na jaana, in aasuoon me kahin, jab seene me burayii ka ghaav milega. Chalte hi rehna, bheed me ruk na jaana Bure dino ka antt, jald hi hoga. Boond boond kar himmat jutao tum, Unhe apni galti ka ehsaas jaroor hoga. Pyaar behad hai tumse, p ar tumhe bhoolna bhi jaroori hai. Ishq karke dekh liya, ab thoda jeena bhi jaroori hai... ab thoda jeena bhi jaroori hai...  

Diary of a Man Holding her hand, switching our soul, whispered in her ears, let the good times roll. The laughter and the love that we both shared, Smiling at all the ways, we loved and we dared To dream a wonderful future together, And how we promised this was forever. Recalled the moment, when things started to change, Things were so ugly, it looked to me so strange. Finding the answers, to the mistakes that were done, All fake and misery, It is hard to find the fun. Everything seems easy, we don't find it rough But sometimes I wonder, is it enough?  I Trusted on her,  she stabbed back at me, Learned about her cruelty, so I let her free. Deep down inside me, I know I will try, Attempt to solve things alone, I promise I won't cry All the pain I am feeling, the memories I won't sell, I know there must be an ending, to the story I will tell....

  In this dark universe, life gives you several spin The only impossible journey is the one you never begin. Having discovered the Himalayas, a few countries and skies, People are here to judge you, but they never reveal their lies. You sail through the oceans, swim waters through the shore, Life is tough yet un predictable, it'll always remain a gore. Maybe the journey isn't so much, about becoming anything, Maybe it's about unbecoming, everything that isn't really you. Rational thinking is the only way, we all become old, Conflict, war and crimes around, I wish were never told. Sooner or later, we all must die, leave this world around, Little things which matter the least, makes most of the sound. It is wrong to ask those things, explicit much to care, Things cannot be unheard, until you do not share. Wise men have said the things, that let us speak the lies, Truth is so harsh yet comfortable, it comforts the soul who dies. Nothing matters very much, and few things ma