Amongst the cold valley,

Lies something unknown to all,

The Victim of innocence...

Is dragged slowly, painfully,

In the darkened depths

Of its very soul.

Its teeth;

Like those of a venomous snake,

White daggers, glowing mist-like in the darkened tunnel.

Piercing its fangs

Into the new Victim; The Innocent.

Poison courses throughout the body.

Excruciating pain.

Cries of anguish,

Lost in the grey skies of a storm.

Numb.

Rain falls heavily,

And the innocence is washed away,

Along with the victims of blood.

A cold corpse lays lifeless.

Defeated.Dead.Gone.

Innocence was given away to Darkness.

That cold, dreary day.
                                  ---ASHMITA

There's no doubt she's coming for me.

The eerie silence is deafening.

Her footsteps, loud, drawing near,

I muffle my cries.

I run off into the blood red dawn.

I feel her presence,

I can feel her dreaming of me,

Falling to my death.

She finds me,

Coming closer.

Inside my head

I'm screaming and trying to run.

I find myself frozen in place.

She draws a knife,

Piercing it into my side.

She kills me slowly, letting the blood drip.

My feet, soaking in blood,

I begin to fall onto the cold ground.

Immense pain clouds my thoughts.

Suddenly, I'm staring into a mirror.

There is a girl, clutching a knife

Her eyes meet mine,

They hold me like a distant light on a winter's night.

Familiar, does the light blue eyes look.

The silence; the pain,

Driving me insane.

The mirror cracks; shatters,

Into pieces....

Pieces that will never be put back together.
                                                            ---ASHMITA

I am the one who is the key to your heart,

Always choosing the perfect path.

I am the sun, I am the moon,

Whom you are trying to reach very soon.

I am the one to guide you way,

I am the sunshine to light your day.

I am the one who makes your day,

Whether in cool December or in hot May.

I am the one who is never noticed,

Always in the crowd my name is missed.

I am the one who helps you to reach success,

But do you ever remember to confess?

I am the one always giving you hope,

When you are trying to win over opponents rope.

I am surely the ultimate one,

But in the crowd I always remain as someone.

                                                         ---ASHMITA

Dreams are nothing but illusions stretching till infinity,

The dreamland seems like the largest city.

Dreams will come true if small steps are taken everyday,

And you are sure to be happy and gay.

But sometimes a dream will seem like a precious gem, you will never get,

You will just cry silently and then you have to forget.

Sometimes you will soar into the sky,

As high as the birds fly,

But sometimes you will be so low on yourself,

You will feel that among the giants,

You are a poor elf.

Sometimes you will be too proud,

You will be someone distinguished in the crowd.

But sometimes for yourself you will not care,

Being present, you will be lost everywhere.

Sometimes you will have happy emotions and will be on an emotional ride

But sometimes you will just be hovering over a fight.

But whatever happens just take it light,

Because this is practical life.

                                             ---ASHMITA

Usually I would stay inside today.Well, usually I would stay inside everyday, but today,on this day of all days,I would normally want nothing more but to stay out of the way-to stay safe.

This year is different though.This year I've finally decided to take part in the celebration.
Celebration....ha....that's what they call it anyway, but we all know the best word for it is horror.
I remember last year, after I'd locked my doors and windows, as i sat alone and terrified,trying to block out the screams and disgusting laughter that came from the street.
"My sister! My sister!" One man screamed.I could hear his sobs but knew nobody would help him.
I listened to music, I painted still lifes of the things I owned and practiced my yoga.I did everything I could think of to keep my mind off of it, the horror, the celebration.
As I struggled to clear my mind, my arms opened wide for yet another sweeping sun salutation,I heard her.Agnes, the old lady from upstairs.
I don't know what she was thinking.The old bat probably forgot what decade it was.She was always telling me about how it used to be...
As she screamed I ran to the window just in time to see it happen.The blood spurting from her tattered neck, like a fountain, the man responsible revelling in his misdeeds.
Like me, he knew nothing of the time before Murder Day, he grew up knowing that evry year it came and went like any other glutinous holiday.Unlike Christmas,Thanksgiving or Easter though, this day was meant for feasting on violence and death.
I sat in my window and cried for Agnes,I imagined reasons for why she would go outside and wondered about the man who killed her.Was he an avid Murder Day participant?Could he be found out in the bloody streets each year, taking part in the celebration?Was Agnes just another hole in his belt, or was she his first?
This year, things are different.This year, there is no music, paint or yoga.All I can do is think of his face, bathed as it was in her blood.Though in my mind it's his, in my imagination the red stained fountain comes from his own exposed and ripped open arteries while I'm the one dancing in the bloody rain.
And so I suit up;good running shoes,dark clothes,an old rusty knife from my rotting kitchen drawer.
This year I will celebrate.
I'm quiet and limber,I keep to the shadows.Alleyway to alleyway,I ignore all else.Men and women everywhere are screaming and rejoiciing in their bloody violent revery.
I notice the people peering from their dark and covered windows.They aren't watching me though, they are looking at the streets.Some hide looks of excitement,fear or contempt while others show their smiling children what waits for them in the years to come.
No matter what emotion's showing though, I know what's deep inside; a hungry curiosity, a thirst for blood too frightening to quench.
I hear a scream come from the street, a woman flails and bleeds.I see his face and run for him, my blade held high above my head and just before I make it-BANG!
I didn't see it coming.A sharp pain and then I'm down.Warm blood pools around me and before I know it..
I'M DEAD.....
                      ---ASHMITA

It doesn't mean I can never try,

When tears come out as I cry,

My tears build a memory lane,

I keep walking....just to meet you again.

As I stand alone in the courtyard,

Everything in life seems so hard,

So I ask God, every time I pray,

"Give me strength for just one more day!"

I'm living with an empty and hollow heart,

From the time we are apart,

My heart may not make it through....

But it just can't stop me from loving you.

I wonder why I didn't confess,

It's all your love inside, I possess.

Don't know if I'll ever smile,

I just want to be with you for a while.

I can keep everything aside,

But your love is something, I can't hide.

I don't know if things can be the same,

Though I know someday you'll call my name.

I don't know if I'll ever be free,

But remember one thing darling-

YOU ARE EVERYTHING TO ME!

                                            ---ASHMITA

This is what you do.if you feel low, you stand tall.You mess up, you move on.You want to try something, try it, and if it was a stupid thing to try, you look it in the eye.There's no turning back.You apologize if you're sorry, but know that the nimblest, strongest hands can't rebuild a bridge out of embers, so cut new wood.If you can't talk yourself down from the ledge, have a good time up there, looking down on the world.If you have to lie to make everything true again, lie as you mean it.If you find yourself in a cage, reach out through the bars for the key, unlock the door and run away.If running away gets dangerous, run home.If home doesn't mean what it used to mean, decide what home will be in the future.If your best friend says she/he doesn't trust you, hold her arm in your hand, and make her face you.If you think you love a guy/girl,see how his/her hand looks in yours, that's all it takes.If you get exiled into a new land, then go discover it.And if you feel like you're drowning,try going swimming.NOTHING LASTS LONG,SO LIVE IT UP,DRINK IT DOWN,LAUGH IT OFF,TAKE CHANCES AND NEVER REGRET WHAT YOU DID BECAUSE AT ONE POINT,WHATEVER YOU DID WAS EXACTLY WHAT YOU WANTED!

I was thinking of writing a parody,

A parody on my loneliness, my precious loneliness,

That would be my dark room's soliloquy.

In my room i burn my 69 mm cylinders,

Lately I have realized loneliness can be a curse,

I have heard people calling it my addiction,

The essence of that smoke kissing my nostrils gives me great satisfaction.

Competitor of my ambitions is now that Nile,

I have even noticed darkness giving me a wry smile.

If we always measure our moves, life will become another meaning of frustration,

So now I try to trouble my troubles and from this darkness I draw inspiration.

With the looming darkness of my small room I am quite complacent,

In this silent world I find my room the most eloquent.

Follow you heart, obstacles you may face.Life is too precious to waste.

But do not ever offend this loneliness.

My little room helped me in making darkness so dear,

                                              BUT FRIENDS BE AWARE,

                         IN A MORTAL'S LIFE LONELINESS CAN BE THE BIGGEST FEAR.

P.S.I am not the author of this poem.I took it from my school magazine because I liked it.

Like it fell from the sky,

When the heaven got too high,midst the earth

It's beauty too much for the mortal eye

Unreal,unbelievable would be a creature so fine

it unfurls its wings to get away from the showbiz.

Discovered by the monster who made

Devils look like tamed lions

Yearns to go back to the place of serenity,peace,

Selfless was the sun,the wind was untouched

By the black shadows,love was ecstasy

Where the heart fell right beating on the left

Trapped it remained at the back of the angel's mind

While it was caged under the human eye,

Looked upon like the moon was dumped into their arms,

The media would flash at it the way lightening would shine

And grieve in despondence for its departure of the beloved,

It knows that one day she shall have her angel,

Who would take it away from being a sight?

Far,far away and far too high...
                                              ---ASHMITA

A friend is like a flower,

A rose to be exact,

Or may be a brand new gate,

That never comes unlatched.

A friend is like an owl,

Both beautiful and wise.

Or perhaps like a spirit,

Whose presence never dies.

A friend is like a heart,

That throbs strong till the end.

Where would we be in this world,

If we didn't have a friend?
                                          ---ASHMITA