Each day i go to bed clean,
is for me, a battle won.
Usually the day is mine.
I - Emerge - A Daily Victor !
Yet Some nights I go to bed - the loser.

Sometimes, my enemy changes tactics or
takes me by surprise,
Yes there shall be Battles lost,
But I try and think of them not as Battles lost, But Battles Gained & Lessons learnt,
And I Then fortify that area,
& Pray I may never weaken there again.
..
For..
I'm my Country
I'm my Army
Me - the Battlefield.
Mind and body,
Heart and soul.
Yet, also - I'm the enemy
I - its arsenal
Within me, it spies
Within me it strikes
But This war has No Rules
Nor Mercy
It's a A Fight - Unto Death
& there'll be no honor
Nor glory
No matter whose side 'Im' on.
Though, Yes ive a secret.
A weapon,
But if I wrote it - it wont remain so
would it ?
Question is
Should I be a patriot
Knowing The enemys in me ?
Who'll win ?
Me.
But then who will be the loser ..?
Me..

For I know whatever the outcome
The Loser shall be mercilessly slaughterd.
One will stand and the other shall fall.

Will or can I be able to destroy a part of me ?
I guess Yes, I will.
Else like a cancerous growth
I will devour me, my attitude.
Someone once said
'Patriotism is a virtue of the vicious'
I now know what he meant.
For Each day is a battle
Deep inside,I know
the War shall eventually be won by me
But I Wonder
The needlessness, the cost
For, the war,
Whenever won I wonder
Will there be anything left,
To live or have Fought for?
Yet, just for today I will fight.
& will keep fighting, Everytime,
To the last day
Till my last breath..
..or die trying...

--
@sh

Embracing the wind,
I reach out my arms,
To receive even more,
Of this fulfillment,
Of nothing.
Yet it's something.
An invisible body,
That I grip together tight,
Mixed up in my own imagery,
I give you a name,
In which I can't explain,
But one that I understand.
I prance along the lush grass,
Holding you all in,
My nobody is my somebody,
I'll always take you as one.

So here I stand, empty hands,
Yet I know you're there,
Somewhere...

If I were a line
I think I'd be curled,
twisty wriggly & swirled, slowly unfurled.
I'd sweep over pages unwritten,

if I were a line,
i'd be a road,
driving down it on Motorcycle, fast
the wind in my hair,
my heart laid bare.
with nothing to say...
Yo know, That's what I'd be,
if I were a line.

But what If I were a spot
I'd be round and fat
(now how about that?*)
like a big, fat, well-fed cat.
I'd have drizzled and dropped,
if I were a spot,
pittering, pattering,
yo know, just like the v first raindrop !
That's what I'd be - if I were a spot.

If I were a colour
I'd be a rich red,
like a murderer's deathbed
for thats what I am 
a murderer.
i have taken two lives.
One isn't for anyone to know & One's mine.
i killed myself.
Can one be punished for murdering his own self ?

Nah ! Maybe I'd be a Black
No fuss,nothing dramatic,
just deep, still & silent
even though my thoughts,
all sporadic.
That's what I'd be,
if I were a colour.

But I am a human,
I AM...!!
I am so frail, so flawed,
yet so strong, so flexible
Ya, i do sometimetimes get bored,
times like now like now..
(a time spent wishing i 
was with Myo - just being adored).
Thus through my life - I twist and I turn

I bend and sometimes get bent.

Yet, I shall not break.
My Hinges, though - the ones upon which/who I twist and I turn upon,

Those - no one can see's 

None - at all.

Nobody But Me And The God Of My Perception Can See.

As for my shape, My shape ..Hah ! it's no other than the one I can be.

 My colour, it changes
almost constantly,
Because I am a human:
A human – that's me. 

A Solitary soul being jostled around in a sea of other souls

Watching, Waiting, Commiserating ,Thinking..
Oh god, when will thy set me free...?!