Abhey Gupta

Tag: English

  • My Thoughts

    Far, but not farther;
    near, but no nearer than my thoughts.
    Every lonely night, I wonder at the wandering moon —
    but the question is: where are you, my soul?

    At times, I too fear the distance,
    broader than any other memory;
    harder it is to feel, like any rock —
    yet everything is like a flowing river.

    A pebble, and a trembling heart,
    both adrift in a spring of flowing tears,
    from end to end — but this journey will never last.

    I am travelling all night for your return,
    like the moon that falls only to rise above the horizon,
    wrapped all around in clouds of love —
    but life is not a question of mine alone.

  • All of Me & You

    Closest at the altar of eyes, all I remember is you;
    I watch you go, quiet as my eyes,
    with a glimpse of day — just all of me and you.
    You spare a moment for me again,
    and we return to a lonely me and you.

    I hope to see the dawn again,
    just to get back to all of me and you.
    I dream all night for signs,
    and rest in the arms of you;
    I wake to see you sigh,
    with a love for all of me and you.

    I live in the heart, and for life,
    and I am happy, like a smiling you;
    I end only to start my every life
    with you, and for all of me and you.

  • As I Grow

    Once, I played with toys;
    now I am a toy for others.
    I loved diving into the mud;
    now I am scared of every colour.

    Life was as easy as a video game —
    and all I do now is cry;
    I lost more of myself as I grew up.

    It was all parties and joy;
    now it all shows the odds against you.
    The sleepless night before the day of the trip
    turned to sleeplessness in anger and agony.

    Laughter had no other reason; no —
    a crying devil before every fake smile.
    Hardest, once, was working hard —
    then it became working hard just to die.

    Every day was once another smile.
    I always knew the world had different faces,
    but it was never such a heavy thought
    as it is now, as I grow up.

  • An Hour

    An hour, when I wake into her arms,
    I feel the whole world fall behind mine;
    time plays its moments so tenderly,
    and I fly to reach that time.

    An hour at midday, alone,
    remembering all the good mornings with you;
    and this time, time is slipping away,
    just to reach your arms around me.

    An hour when I am apart from you,
    longing to live and to love you;
    and time smiles devilishly
    at every attempt I make.

    The hour at midnight — you, again;
    I wonder how lucky I am.
    This time, I am living the reality,
    and I hear the words of love in her heart.

  • Across the Street

    We are trying every way to reach,
    a new day starting with a shadow of cloud;
    rushing to the end of the planet, but dispersed
    off the life living across the street.

    We are flying high, with fear nearby,
    and like every time, time flees;
    but little do we care, and less we look —
    and it builds a sea across the street.

    Are we blind, or just insecure?
    Or are we building a planet of floors?
    A few more takes, and the end is there —
    still so far, from across the street.

    We are trapped behind the ego,
    living life on the stage of a show;
    colours are lost into shades of darkness,
    and we cry alone, across the street.

  • The Sky of His Own Story

    The fliers of dreams have no time to stay back in the nest and talk of comfort;
    the travelers of the endless sky keep no count of how many times they’ve been pushed back. At the height of success, even the moon may cast your shadow off your glory —
    yet even a winner must lose his ground once, if only to reach the sky of his own story.

  • Above the Hill of Failure

    With the sunrise comes a hope of tenderly flying dreams —
    some already on their way, some still forming their shape. With the fall of night, darkness surrenders its soul to light, and the morning shines with a ray of success;
    and through the troubles of life, you may fall once, but you rise forever again, above the hill of any failure.

  • A Game of Risk

    Though everything is close to me, I am at the farthest place of my own;
    though things are happy, reality is something I have learned to cherish. The constant struggle just to survive is a disguise —
    of being made a victim by your own will. But life is only a game of risk.

  • Different Every Time

    When I look at it from above, it looks one way;
    when I look from below, it looks another. And all I understand is this: it is all about life —
    and it is different every time.

  • If I Wore Wings

    Though I wish the destination could be reached in flight —
    to wear a pair of wings and dive into the sky —
    would it be as joyous, would it still be your cherished happiness, any more?