Kings of mirage

I was the king
You were the soldier
You are the rebellion I once was and that it is over
Standing out differently,
People ready to stoke and smoulder

I was the king
You were the soldier
You were true to me
Lets march together into the monarchs
You were the foundation of my kingdom
You spilled you’re blood full of wisdom

I was the king
You were the soldier
You were the loud thunder
I was the silent storm under

I was the king
You were the soldier
I get you, most of it
You were me, when I was three
Now just to need to set yourself free

I was the king
You were the soldier
But this is how it’s meant to be
Let me change your shady thoughts
I may try but you must permit
I’m no invader, just a silly kingdom hermit !

-N.B.

You kneel before my throne unaware it was made of lies .
Unknown

Is it too late?

Is it too late or maybe is it not?
Yet subtly the unspoken gets woven into the fabric of our lives
The smugness with which we carry our arrogance around
And we still dream to be together
Hope the other person will read in-between the lines
As if for a headache the Doctor will prescribe two bottles of wine
We look at each other and say “Hey there!” (The smugness never faded)
But does one really acknowledge other’s presence?
Or just and illusion of standing in front of a nonexistent mirror….(it waves back too!)
The game to and fro goes ON and ON until eternity
In the End, we ask ourselves…
Is it too late? (To understand/be understood, explore, laugh, live)
Basically… Be content with our Rituals.

-N.B.

Life

She’s here to stay or let’s say
She’s here to slay me
It’s like trying to out pace the inevitable
All the emotions she shows to me
More like poses of a model directed towards a camera called my heart
All the editing and the touch ups to her faces
Done in a supercomputer call her brain
And if ghost busting was a trophy hunting sport
She already had me ghosted
Roasted like coffee beans
Eventually directly tossed into garbage bin
It’s not about him or her
Nor the question what or why ?
Everything centred around pronoun “I”
” Is it me or is it getting crazier out there ? is also not question to be asked”
Cuz I know for sure it was always this crazy out there
My parents put me in a bubble
Where truth and honesty were real
And she’s trying to bust that bubble
Trying to put back in the trouble… From which I’m trying to escape

-N.B.

Khayal

Ajeeb se khayalat hogaye hai mere
Din mein ek baar toh maut maut maut na keh du toh din nahi gujarta
Raat ko chain ki neend nahi aati
Khubsurti se sauda karr liya
Dil ke badle shabd de de
Toh ab usne dil tod ke chakna choor karr diya
Ab log kehte hai khudki mayyat pr yeh nahi rota
Lekin unhe kon batlayein ki jite ji bhi marr gaye the hum
Tehelne jaye kahi pahadon pr toh kudne ka mann karta hai
Afsos nahi lagta ki kisi ko hunare jane se bura bhi lagega
Jab rail ki patriyon pe tehelta hu toh lagta yeh koi rail aakr bass muje jannat dikha de
Ajeeb se khayalat bn gaye hai mere
Na jeene ki aas hai nai shaitano pr wishwas hai
Bass tadpa kr jeeteji maar diya
Ab maja hi nahi bacha ki chalo 100 jagaha meri iss sharir pr ghav karr de
Khoon se hi aaj khud ko rangle
Ajeeb se khayalat ho gaye…
Bass der marne ki hai….
-N.B.