Beneath a thousand laughs.

Frozen and motionless.
Undisturbed and still, as she lay.
The poignance in my air paved way for a deep sense of dismay.

Quiet and unruffled.
She looked at peace, more beautiful than ever.
Flourishing in the springs of heaven, now and forever.

--

This starry night, I want to make you seem alive.
I am going to write you again.
One more time, Get you with me, to my empty terrain.

When his eyes met hers, he stared into them. Deeply.

Long, curly eye lashes. Big eyes. Deep brown. Beautiful.

The kohl in the sides of her eyes had smudged because of weeping. Beautiful, nevertheless.

The innocence in them, the spark in them, though wry, the pain in them, plunged a hole at the center of his heart; in a blink of an eye. 

Who says, eyes aren't a heart's a mirror? 

Who says that eyes aren't a soul's a mirror?

The ascendance of the Prince of Darkness.

Slowly and gradually, I feel my hot breath become a cloud of steam, a huge monstrous cloud. I glance down at my boiling skin. Drop by drop; I see my flesh and blood fall off my bones. In no time, I realize that I’m no more than a heap of melted flesh and broken, dissolved bones. My floating eyes look up for one last glimpse of despair as the devil’s lashing tongue laps up my remains for one last taste of victory. The world around seems to be spinning and twirling in a malicious manner, combusting from the joy of seeing another slain. With my very last cry, I wither away as darkness sets in to signal that all hope is lost.

I am gone and can not return once more.

This life is definitely not a fairy tale.

The image that you hold of somebody can never remain constant. It changes as the relationship evolves, and most of the times, it ends at a rotting note.

and THAT realization, times like those are the ones that define new boundaries of lonesomeness. 

Burning the perils of degeneration of her wisdom and sanity,
stinging apathy, the guilt and the culpability.

She leaped up high from that ash and the soot,
the dark smoke and the gigantic fire, scorching down till its root.

All meekly left behind, for the mighty phoenix had sprung up high,
leaving apart the frailty and the filth to gruesomely burn and die.