Guilt

The guilt gnaws at the conscience,
tearing non-societal thoughts.
It creeps in slow, then poisons -
its notorious ink blots.
The mind is a restless leaf
that flutters as the wind blows.
It sails tho the journey brief
since we anchor when it flows.
To trail beliefs is no grit,
nor the path that others writ.

                

Geometry

And when the pains multiplied-

from life was subtracted glee.

Mind from the soul did divide

till you were added to me.

I was in maze of circles,

trying to find an angle.

But root cause of all troubles

got lost in the triangle.

Then to reshape you entered.

And soon became my centre.