Art and Lie

I deemed
in everything beautiful.

I saw the dust trough the sun
and I notice the glitter.
I saw the eyes,
so damp and vague
and felt the beauty in tears.
I saw him,
in tattered clothes, ragged self,
and his misery seems so dear.

Art, a lie;
It can't show me the real.
Art, a facade,
Now I want to unhide the rear.

Lost the Rhyme

A line runs through me,
connects me, unplugs me too;
and I, like a past record
beat up and sing through.
What is this line?
What's this dim shine?

What am I?

What are you?

Lost in self,
we walk together.
You dont see me in my eyes.
And I know, I will always look up to you,
into those shinning gem like eyes,
as long as you hide from mine.

I know I have stumbled and broken it,
that something that wasn't mine,
and I recollect that it was yours;
wasn't it?

And as I reread above,
I feel as a novice;
I have lost the words,
but that would have been okay,
worst is I have also lost the rhyme.....

Ooooohh!! I have lost the rhyme.

Comatose

Words break,
I hear the snap;
Vision blurs,
and I see the vague.
I smell
my breath,
babbling my own words;
Thirst binds throat,
Loosen up veins.
Heart loudly shouts,
but intermittently.
and it feels like
a quagmire eats me.
Sleep is inducing my senses.
keeping bound,
behind the fences.

But something liberating
in loosing up everything;
world lost but life blown in
as comatose win.