poetry by anshul

a poem for my love

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Often I feel this urge

To hold you in my arms

And forget everything else

And kiss your lips red strong.


How strange this world is

That I can`t even ponder in myself,

And tell my psyche to suppress

These wasteful thoughts that are so stressed.


Many a times I’ve tried

To whiff away these desires,

And accept this truth that life

Doesn`t rule over your thoughts always.


But still I cannot control

The urge to have you on my lap

And that denying the reality

Wouldn`t make it true.


And now even worse that hath betide

Is that in my dreams you abides;

The warm breath of your heart

Blesses my soul to salvation,

And your loving gentle touch

Bring the joy in my whole divine.

And every night what I see is

You to be mine and only mine.


To be honest, you are now my life

No matter how weird this might sound.

And I believe this urge is the proof

That love is true and I can`t get away from you.



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Darkness everywhere

The greed reeking

Embracing the devil

Befooling the king


The soft chains and

Gossamer tied knots

With rotten spirits

Dressed with blood draught

Cold and smooth;

And the essence conflated

With sweat of blackbird;


And for blackbird

Alas! Honest siren

Though feign slyness

But couldn’t withstand

The wiles of the anonymous;

For he preaches the bird

But enthralls her to deign


And the king

He lingers to comely siren

Unaware of her wiles

And get entoiled into her eloquence halcyon;

The apricity evanescent europhically

Stealing his soul with leaving

His wan body on bier;

But now it`s been too late

To alter the consequence

For this he hath lost the

Broil first time ever in this lot.

new moon

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Belied was new moon
with wan veil of clouds upon.
Chic with gruesome wiles.

the mighty baron

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Oh mighty baron
i release thee
for sojourn in the mead
harking order naught,
all i beseech
dost naught forget me.
And heed
offer me a meed
grant me a inch square
in thy realms of gold
and that is all i need.

is that true?

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This strange feeling
that i get through
knowing end near
is that true?
I listen to my heart shrewed
but my mind scream
its true its true its true..

the time

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O` l`ll black belt on my hand

Thy bound me with thine two hands

Reminding time that I hath spend

Writing poem that reverent heart mend

Brimmed with gloomiest thoughts chained

With this harsh moment that hath strained

My body and soul will lead to an end


But o` clock

Thy can never entoil the flock

Of birds of words inside me

They would never stop

Crying deep inside me

Though they may look calm

For your one round

So that thy can hear your own sound

But one moment will come

When the chains thy mend

Will start losing their ends

And the rage smoking calm and slow

Will have some flow

As soon as the wind blow

The thoughts will start shining with glow

And then they won’t get in the riddle

Thy mend to hold

The day will come

When thine sound will be slow

And the voice silenced till now

Would be clear and no low

ode to an old friend

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o’ old fere
ye lend me sympathy
though not all the toll
standing nigh concrete
but thine soul
as a shadow sticks
to the sole
and whisper everytime
to not frighten
but to light the darken
and beleive on myself.