We are all dreaming the Same Fucking Dream

Different lives, but the same hunger, the same corruption, and the same ending.

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We are all dreaming the same fucking dream,

endless desires, with lust as the main theme

Born in the lap of fate, we aim to rise so high,

we laugh at each gain; on each misery we cry

Greed rules our hearts, neither love nor faith,

into the darkness we dwell, like a sniveling wreath

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We are all dreaming the same fucking dream,

pursuits are the same, different they may seem

Our journeys start with ambition, blood, and sweat,

our baggage is so heavy, all remorse and just regret

Our birth is by chance, but our death is so sure,

we praise the lofty God with hearts so impure

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We are all dreaming the same fucking dream,

gold, women, and land, we all hail, we all scream

Betrayals are abundant, and loyalty is so very rare,

blindly following the devil without any apparent care

It’s the sin that we seek and the virtue that we reject,

in the end, it’s just guilt; it’s all that we collect

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We are all dreaming the same fucking dream,

the purpose of life we forget, this we cannot redeem

That we have to hold hands, we have to serve others,

yet we kick the dog, ignoring that we are brothers

That we are all the same spirit, we are all part of God,

the system is all perfect, but the users are all flawed

Slaughter of the Brokenhearted

This isn’t just dark poetry. It’s a massacre in verse — and the victims are the unhappy who loved too much.

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Go and kill them, kill them slowly or kill them fast;

kill them with your abject disinterest and disregard

Kill them for they forgive you their very own murder;

kill them for their hearts are now too badly scarred

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Go and kill them while they are still awake or asleep;

kill them with your bitter tears or your divine smile

Kill them for they risked thinking of the impossible;

kill them for they for once dared to dream awhile

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Go and kill them without any guilt or even a little doubt;

kill them with your characteristic bland indifference

Kill them, for they already hate themselves too much;

kill them for they have no great desire, no preference

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Go and kill them with your burning, blood thirsty, lust;

kill them with a dark vengeance seething in your heart

Kill them for they themselves beg for this final end;

kill them for self-hatred, too, is sort of an unusual art

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Go and kill them with either your swords or words;

kill them with no grey regret and no guilt whatsoever

Kill them for their cold hearts are no more throbbing;

kill them for they are broken, and are surely dead forever

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Go and kill them, though killing them is no fun at all;

kill them, for they won’t be able to either resist or react

Kill them for they dared to love too much like fools;

kill them for loving only one, was their very final act

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Go, deliver the blow and kill them before it’s too late;

kill them without even a sliver of sympathy and kindness

Kill them, for they want to now sleep and rest forever;

kill them for they are tired of all this hollow sadness

Love & Betrayal are Two Friends and Lovers

This poem dives into the battlefield where trust stands guard and desire becomes the traitor.


Love and betrayal are two friends and two lovers,

they are inseparable friends and diehard lovers

They walk hand in hand, on the path of life,

their shadows becoming one with the passage of time

Fate plays merrily, its shiny golden fife,

while deep lines are etched on faces, still in their prime


Love and betrayal are two friends and two lovers,

strangers to each other, but intimate under covers

They act like true enemies, sworn and so old,

with curved scimitars drawn, ready to draw blood

Love banishes betrayal to hell; it’s a move so bold,

while betrayal hides itself, yellow scorpion in the mud


Love and betrayal are two friends and two lovers,

trust is a formidable wall as betrayal discovers

Betrayal tries to sneak in while looking for a door,

but faith guards all doors; it stands a steady vigil

With each of betrayal’s tries, love becomes a strong boar,

while the trust becomes absolute, being bound by a sigil


Love and betrayal are two friends and two lovers,

distance pulls them closer with no gaps and no buffers

When betrayal seeks an audience, love shuns it away,

though betrayal is insistent, love just stands its ground

But then the light hides in the shadows of a sky so grey,

while hope breathes its last, loudly barks the hellhound


Love and betrayal are two friends and two lovers,

fate has one last plan, which she quickly uncovers

Desire whispers to love, her voice so poisonously sweet,

it makes promises of pleasure, the prospect of deniability

Love finally surrenders to desire and agrees to cheat,

it chooses to embrace betrayal, forgetting all nobility


Love and betrayal are two friends and two lovers,

desire always hides guilt, as in the end, love discovers

But when love pushes betrayal away, it doesn’t let go,

‘Why?’ love asks, while engaged in a deadly struggle

‘Listen!’ betrayal whispers, ‘if you must know’,

‘we are two balls that fate must always juggle’

Green Tara and the Man who was Lost — A Short Opera

A haunting mini-opera where a lost wanderer encounters Green Tara (Buddhist goddess of compassion, tear drop of Avalokiteshvara) in a cold desert and receives devastating truths instead of comfort.

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The man was tired of walking for long in the cold desert. The sand was almost silver and stung his feet with the chill from last night. An equally tired, grey sun failed to warm the grains of sand. And then, when he had almost lost hope, Green Tara suddenly appeared out of thin air.

The man fell to his knees, joined his hands in supplication, and addressed the goddess:

O Green Tara, the tear drop of Avalokiteshvara,

have mercy on me, for I have sought you for long

You are the goddess of all those who are lost,

and I have lost myself, correct me if I am wrong

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The Goddess watched the man with pity. She knew him well. He was the child of sorrow and had been miserable all through his pathetic life. In fact, why the man was still alive, was what worried Green Tara.

She contemplated the wretched creature huddled at her feet for some time, and then decided to tell him the truth:

Yes, you are lost indeed, that I can see,

lost forever, a child of sorrow and pain

You have been cursed by the gods,

cursed when you were born in the times of rain

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The man turned his teary eyes to the goddess and asked:

But why me? Why was I cursed by the gods?

Isn’t it unfair? To be gifted with all the odds?

Green Tara thought some more and then answered:

Whom do you belong to,

and whom do you possess?

Whom do you beg and cry to,

when you are in a dire mess?

You are a man from nowhere,

with no principles or morals

No good deeds in your bag,

and to your name, no laurels

Whom do you seek for solace,

and from whom do you beg forgiveness?

Whom do you choose to walk along,

when you are grieving and in distress?

You are a man with no certain future,

with no notable past or a worthy present

No real and lofty victories to boast of,

and a million regrets to resent

Whom do you love without conditions,

and whom do you serve selfless?

Whom do you hate with a vengeance,

when you feel the drive to aggress?

You are a man with no attachments,

with no relief and comfort in sight

No real gains to be happy about,

and what awaits you is only plight

Whom do you see as your companion,

and whom do you look for love?

Whom do you expect not to judge you,

when you are low in sin and not above?

You are a man who cannot be loved,

with no pure virtues or real talents

No sincere affections to be proud of,

and when mistreated, no one repents

You are just an anomaly in the system,

something to be removed and corrected

You are the broken gear in the machine,

something to be trashed and rejected

You are the one true monstrosity,

and carry the heaviest burden of guilt

You are the grandest absurdity,

cheap wine, to be mocked and spilt

What makes you happy and what makes you sad?

These are questions you know the answers to

Happiness will come and sadness will go,

you know these two will never come true

You are the one who is eternally lost,

between what should be and what can be

You are the one who is forever damned,

for wanting something that can never be

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The man was dejected. He kept on crying for a while, and then, when his tears dried up, he raised his head and asked Green Tara:

What will become of me O Green Tara?

May I expect a salvation or perhaps a respite?

Or is it my destiny to be a lost wanderer,

a man without soul, or maybe a dark knight?

Green Tara looked at him with pity in her lovely eyes.

No respite for you and no salvation,

for your curse is eternal, no other repirmand

But only if you can let go of your ego,

and become what the others demand

You will find all you seek except yourself,

no doom and your fate, you’ll command

Life isn’t Fair, My Friend

Too little time and too much to do, too little air and too much to breathe—and now the pale sun dips low, autumn surrenders to frost, and a dying voice begs: don’t wait.

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Life isn’t fair, my friend; life isn’t fair at all

Once there was…,

Too little time and too much to do;

and too little air and too much to breathe

Too little space and too much to woo;

and too little energy and too much to reap

Too limited a vision and too much to see;

and too small a mind and too much to learn

Too little wisdom and too much taken as free;

and too small a choice and too many boats to burn

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Life isn’t fair, my friend; life isn’t fair at all

Once there was…,

All those I could have loved, but didn’t,

and all those I shouldn’t have, but did

All those I could have blessed, but didn’t,

and all those I shouldn’t have, but did

Knowledge I could have gained, but didn’t,

and knowledge I shouldn’t have accessed, but did

Things that I could have passed on, but didn’t,

and things that I shouldn’t have, but did

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Life isn’t fair, my friend; life isn’t fair at all

Now…,

The pale sun is dipping low in the West,

and the wind has stopped ruffling my hair

The chaos is all tired and preparing to rest,

and the eternal silence is almost here

The autumn is surrendering fast to the frost,

and the ideas have stopped painting my imagination

The violins have hushed, and all will is lost,

and ambition has ceased to move my determination

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Life isn’t fair, my friend; life isn’t fair at all

Please, I beg you…,

Go do what you want and go reap what you need,

be kind to all around you and get rid of your greed

Go see what you desire and go learn what you can,

understand all that you like, no need for any plan

Go love whoever you want, go follow your dream,

go bless even your enemies, no use of any scheme

Go make a legacy and at all costs, pass it on,

don’t delay, just move, don’t wait for a new dawn