The Silent Havoc. 

Blood-curdling expressions,
The storm inside your head is poison.
And like a silent havoc it left,
Fading past the horizon. 

What have you done to yourself?
Letting it take you right down to your knees.
The lonely hiding behind the winsome mask still,
Doomed haplessly to be ill at ease. 

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The Personal Torment.

And so it dawned over me,
Like the morning ray’s conception to the senses. 
If you’re already in a personal torment dire, 
The other afflictions would affect you much less.

-Sadvansha Munshi 

The Third Person. 

Oh, I hear you..
The intensifying sound.
But soon it fades,
As if I’m drowning.
For I become lost,
Lost and confined. 
I walk silently, bound to it.
Waiting to dissipate. 
The roars dull and I 
Escape not from it but within it.

-Sadvansha Munshi 

The Fall.

As expressionless as still water,
Standing stagnant on the ashes.
Almost moribund with this guise,
Moving on to the next in flashes. 

Both, unborn and immortal,
A boundless process.
Albeit, an end is necessary;
The emancipation of the unblessed.

-Sadvansha Munshi 

Bleed. 

Fritter into tatters, 
Who will save you now?

Would you believe me if I told you,
Your own blood will burn you.

You’d fall in the ditch 
Where once stood a bridge
And you’d be left wondering
..Where did I go wrong.

Sadvansha Munshi 

Karma

Days bled into years, at last the inescapable agony caught up. 

And the ordeal is here to stay evermore, for the role of destroyer has now exchanged.

Sadvansha Munshi 

Avant-garde. 

“…In medias res, I went from relying on own’s discretion to a radical avant-garde.

The cause to quit is now the motivation. ”

Sadvansha Munshi 

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