Rough times 

Through times,

In rough past,

When amateurs becomes matures,

And matures becomes amateurs,

When ego and vein are the one talking ,

When dispute goes out of respect,

And when compromising is kept aside,

Eventually what’s left is an aura of sadness,

Negative vibes as the shield,

Keeping them out of the bowl of love,

Though years of togetherness,

But now awkwardness in their together-ness. 

The Man in the Glass

When you get what you want in your struggle for self,
And world makes you king for a day,

Just go to a mirror and look at yourself,

And see what that man has to say,

For it isn’t your father or mother or wife,

Whose judgement upon you must pass,

The fellow whose verdict counts most in your life,

Is the one staring back from the glass,

Some people may think you are a straight shooting chum,

And call you a wonderful guy,

But the man in the glass says you are a bum,

If u can’t look him straight in the eye. 

He’s the fellow to please never mind all the rest,

For he’s with you clear up to the end,

And you have passed your dangerous difficult test,

If the man in the glass is your friend,

You may fool the whole world down your pathways for years,

And get past on the back as u pass,

But your final reward will be heartache and tears,

If u have cheated the man in the glass. 

All you have to show yourself what you are capable of,

Not the world but you,

It’s self satisfaction and obviously self explanatory. 

By- Dale wimbrow 

*Truly inspired*

Harsh reality

There’s melodrama in everything even I was the victim of it consumed by it, that in engraved so much that the feeling of pity-ness was the most welcoming feeling of all. The question is why being a character like that, when I have the straight forward path. I dint know it was so overwhelming with no bullshitting but still my intuition knew being a yeoman is always good. It’s like showing concern makes the communication vital but the other way around showing concern doesn’t actually concerns to them. 

There’s too much of negative vibes to be acquired but in same vibe comes the hatred vibes, you gotta be cautious because it actually hurts to concern and to be concerned. 

Towards a Reach

4Well on this past moonlight,

With a pixie dust moment,

On the limelight of love,

Seems extraterrestrial,

But of feelings and emotions,

Like the shadow on my life,

Like the quicksand,

Consuming me on,

To its warmth of u,

The everlasting essence,

Fascinating my soul,

To the journey of love we dreamt of.

What love does ?


It’s been like since,

My sins had paid to miles apart,

Imaging us every day for every moment,

Like forever,

As this woman is my destiny,

As we are the victim of cupid,

Though hard times through all days,

Your essence of love kept me going,

It’s dumb to think that this is what we came for,

But it seems though,

You know you are the omnipotent of love of my life,

And you are the aurora which lit my heart.


The times when I fly above the clouds,

Always feels like personifying,

The whole vision ,

As clouds as my white sea,

And the everlasting blue horizon above it,

It gives me a thought,

Of sailing the ship on the white sea,

With the quest with no end,

In the search of peace ,

And the staircase to heaven. 


downloadThe essence of that aura,

was lost with our love of era,

nevertheless feelings were engraved,

latched to our souls,

even while blinking flashback came over,

though black-whitish short film were like cherry,

the present haunts me to relive the past,

to reveal the past and cast shadows on my present,

but with the breeze of sorrow,

the latched and engraved feelings were blown,

and now all that’s left is a soul with no soul to live.


Again the echoing of silence was heard.


Was it a mayday ?

no chirruping of birds,

no razzle-dazzle of life,

felt like corpse all around,

was it ?

just a silent breeze of wind,

gently touching my soul,

dry leaves walking with me,

as the wind blows,

time might have stopped,

things were reluctant to change,

everything’s fading,

it was clueless like being oblivious,

but memories were rooted in soul,

all i can feel was you,

though wind,

but it made a sensation of u,

but i knew sometimes at some point,

the wind is gonna blow it off,

petrifying to lose you,

the warmth of that sensation,

was it really gone ?

i looked around and was seeking,

but i couldn’t found you,

then was stuck in mayhem,

cold fleeted, shivering hands,

the breeze started to rush,

so does my breathe,

my soul was felt less with the breeze gone,

the sensation that created you, was snatched

with the dry leaves settled,

my life went dry with leaves,

my breathe took it off,

and my soul was forever gone,

again the echoing of silence was heard.