Night is a self appointed judge

And the night dawns upon us all
Untamed, unstoppable, unavoidable.
We are forced by deafening silence
To think, to sum up
Things that went wrong
You can’t lie
Night watches us regret and remorse
Like and dispassionate judge
Night is definitely not for sleeping definitely
Or I would be sleeping now.

Dreams, Hope, hidden things that we do
Are night’s bate.
Bit by bit night condenses,
Over our bare bodies.
Can’t see, Can’t detach.
Drags us to the biggest night of all

Death.   

That's why I couldn't write romantic poetry

I tried hard, countless scraped paper. I used to spend hours to write some lines (preferably rhyming) which would be felt important by some heart other than me. After having so many imaginary friends sneak into my room and so many fantasies I came up with the two lines, which I laugh about now. 

you are like a dove

my sweet little love...

well, in the end  I had in my hand this page filled with lines like this. I realized that  poetry cannot be written, you cannot write a poetry, it dawns on you (or it "dance" on you). 

Then I went into mythological phase, wrote a book (80 pages) about relation between god and science. lingered. Lingered on the verge of invention, twice. Troubled Miss Swinky; my physics professor, a lot. But still I never really quit tried writing romance. I couldn't do it.

I wrote the following in my final year:

I go back to the time

To moments those were mine

I shouldn't have done so many things

So many things i shouldn't have quit doing

Every cherished thought is out of reach

Every promise is a liability

Somewhere down the line

I lost myself in you

And I can't find it now.

Somewhere between the time I must have tasted love, or may be not. I think life is a pursuit of trying to understand love. 

It is wired that you cannot express what you feel, the whole concept of language is offset. Not only love, daily feelings like sweetness, sourness, kindness etc.  Try to explain the pain of pinch on the cheeks, pain of pinch on your palm pain of heart and the difference between them. Words actually distort the meaning of fact. May be that is how god stops us from actually helping some other person in his pursuit. As life is an absolute event.