The Ghost of me

                      ~~Tour de Soul...Don't co-exist with my rhyme, they crack like hell!~~

Feels like false ivory tower,

Cramps beneath a flailing power,

The brain synapses break,

And my organs become klutz,

A spare from me,

Yet a mirror of me,

Even my cheer stands on fire,

A hope is left; as big as stomata.

Jinx, is how I saw,

Jinx, the nuts in my head,

Jinx, I wanna shut the sun,

Jinx, brighten up my mind.

It opens like sand in hand,

The potential running into kinetics,

The stiff is now blood,

And the weak is now my heart,

It’s how you conceive,

The magic that you receive,

More than what you perceive,

It’s actually like you deceive.

Isthmus, on which I walk,

Isthmus, life of my soul,

Isthmus, the open crux,

Isthmus, the disclosed yet closed.

                                                       -VAIBHAV VARUN

                                       A short, but aggressive trial, moved to try some free verses, hoping it may work, and finally representing modernist literature. That's all I have to say for now. Go on for commenting on my fb wall or right here, right now!