Abhey Gupta

Category: Poems

Free verse and quiet poems — in English and Hindi — on love, longing, loss, and the slow work of healing.

  • He Breaks Me

    So blindly we move to act,
    and so did I —
    chasing a fleeting comfort,
    slipping, somehow, into the dark.

    It preys upon my ruin,
    leaving wounds that never close;
    I scream, I cry, I beg for help,
    but it tears me down, again and again.

    I run from him, undone,
    a crowd gathers to watch — never to help —
    and he breaks me, again and again.

    And it is never only once:
    I live it every single day —
    that face, watching me, merciless,
    while I, helpless as ever, go numb and weep.

    Facing him, again and again,
    he laughs at every tear;
    the more I break, the more he revels,
    as he draws the very life out of me.

    He plays it out; I go numb just hearing it.
    He fills my veins with his poison,
    and now I lean on him to save me —
    the one who ruins me… will he ever help?

    So strange this world is,
    so artificial, all of them;
    some have hidden from their own sanity —
    cowards, every one.
    And I…

  • The Moon

    It sits so gently in the sky,
    looking down at me and saying,
    “I care about you, my friend;
    I am missing you, my lover.”
    A million voices call to it —
    the moon, but still so silent, and alone…

    “I am something for you, everything for you;
    look at me, and weave your dreams.
    I am into you, without a clue —
    don’t look away, I hold dreams for you.”
    I hope not to rule, but as a friend, to help you —
    the moon, but still so fascinating, so thrilling…

    “I am far away from you in distance,
    but I am there, inside your heart;
    your lover asks me to care for you,
    and you ask me to look out for her.
    I am the keeper of souls — for them” —
    the moon, shining slyly with the sun’s light…

    “I am love, and a vampire’s temple;
    I hold the depth of the sea, the plains of darkness.
    I owe a favor to repay — a dark night of eclipse,
    to live one endless night, and lay down all my pride,
    looking for a place to face my loneliness” —
    the moon, the high sky’s hope of harness…

  • Dreams to Reality

    I had a dream of having thee —
    not just anyone, but the most special one.
    Shakily, I said those three words to thee,
    and I owe my life to loving you.

    In the moment of that special day,
    you moved my dreams into reality;
    out from my soul, I cried that day too —
    not from sorrow, but from the joy of having thee.

    How much I love you cannot be expressed,
    yet the love I hold can never be suppressed;
    the time and the things I shared with you —
    the best of all of it is all because of you.

    The more I give, the more of you I have,
    and I am living, from dreams into reality.
    Now I wonder where you are, or if you feel alone —
    do you miss me, as I am missing you?

    Every moment I spend, I spend with you;
    now my life is nothing without you.
    I can feel you inside my head,
    I can see you, right next to me.

    All the love and care you give to me
    have touched my dreams into reality;
    I wish your every pain and sorrow could be mine —
    just you, and all because I love you.

  • The Sky

    Love-full, and pondering,
    with a desire to fill everything,
    I look through the air — you,
    the sky — I dream, day and night.
    I could draw it in my notebook,
    but it fills instead with feelings of you;
    so far, yet so close to me,
    the sky sketches everything I want. (cloudy)

    My lost selves are in you,
    love and the lover, gazing at me;
    I am scared, and I look to you to calm me —
    the sky, so far above, always with me. (white sky)

    Slowly moving with the storm,
    I am looking every way to say,
    there it is — where are you? — but I know;
    the sky, falling before me. (dark cloud)

    Blank as you may be,
    still I see so much blue in you,
    infinite to gaze and stare upon —
    the sky, after rain, so clear.

    Moving into each other, and lost into one,
    having lost you, I wonder;
    I think of what I see — love, and destruction —
    the sky: so futuristic, so prophetic.

  • I Don’t Quit

    I was sinking with every second,
    darkness was all I breathed in;
    I had been weakened by her strength,
    but I did not quit… I am still wandering.

    It is growing darker, yes,
    yet still I can see her eyes
    staring back at me — and I do not quit.

    Spoken, and wide open,
    all that I was, I did not know;
    somehow I received her,
    my eyes brimming — but I did not quit.

    I am waiting all along my way,
    to have, to hold, one day;
    I will keep waiting for years,
    because I do not quit.

  • My Lost Friend

    So unstoppable are my dreams,
    I cannot find the words to explain;
    still I am trying hard to find
    why you are so sweet — my lost friend.

    Like certain, lingering moments,
    I am waiting for her;
    as if I know what I am leading to —
    I know her name, still, my lost friend.

    Special, I feel — and so I am;
    not hard to find, yet so precious to hold.
    The smile she places on my face
    always makes me think of my lost friend.

    Like a heaven, I am in it —
    distant apart, yet the senses reach;
    when beauty lies more within than without,
    I get only one answer: my lost friend.

    People may seem so estranged,
    but you make me believe in you;
    a voice so sweet, playing in my head —
    just another track of my lost friend.

    I am sitting here, thinking of thee,
    wondering what I would be without you;
    but soon your face recalls the words —
    “I am here with you,” my lost friend.

  • When I Was

    When I was falling from the sky,
    I thought only of thee;
    maybe I would not have lived,
    but the memories always will…

    When I was asked to let go,
    I did not draw a single breath;
    maybe I would have taken it back,
    but the love stays always with me…

    When I was carried to the sea,
    I surrendered myself to thee;
    maybe I would have flowed away,
    but your touch sailed me home…

    When I was speechless,
    I searched for the words to flow;
    maybe they would have cast me out,
    but the lips of thee helped me…

    When I was meant to hate,
    I looked for the reason to love;
    maybe I would have accused,
    but the truth, as always, is tender…

    When I was in the storm,
    I lived every moment for thee;
    maybe I would have to go,
    forever — but I always do as I do.

  • Face

    I see so much in a still face —
    sometimes lost, sometimes struggling for a way;
    they hold a secret sadness, every face,
    and seem, especially, to be looking for a way to cry.

    I feel it when I see a downcast face:
    it is losing its joy with every hurt,
    painting over a memory of every phase,
    hiding itself behind every fake.

    I speak to every downcast face —
    not with words, but with a glance.
    I hesitate to face that estate,
    because I lack the ease to move at that free pace.

    But I am in love with one face —
    unknown to me, yet a dream, I say;
    struggling to find it, in any case,
    and leaving it a choice to make my fate.

  • No More

    He stares out through the window,
    a stranger groaning, alone, outside;
    a sight of something wrong reaches him,
    and he no longer looks beyond.

    Thinking, over and over, far away,
    the source of his thoughts perplexes him —
    guessing what might become of the stranger,
    he is whirled into his own world of grief.

    He realizes his own misdeeds,
    the bad words he so often spoke,
    and comes back, full circle, to belief;
    obsession had once held its power over him.

    He looks outside once more, estranged,
    and this time his gaze finds the moon —
    alone, shining, giving light to others,
    holding so much, yet so little vanity.

    It never asks for anything; it has its own.
    And feeling how small his pain is
    beside that quiet, overarching light,
    he stops thinking only in the verse of “me.”

    He moves beyond the personal —
    and he is in sadness no more.

  • Weaving a Dream

    Weaving a dream, new again,
    despite the bad one I had last.
    I am not afraid of this — not again —
    the end unknown, like the world’s own end.

    Dreaming a dream of a new end,
    boundless is my soul once more,
    loving a piece of every ending —
    though it’s so unlikely, all I have.