The lucifer of love is now Satan's step son

 ... The Lucifer of love is now Satan's step son... 

Tied bearing the baggage of indifference,

When hell protruded to be more pleasing from distant truth.

Soothing over our old families love song,

I came to know even the Lucifer of love told me that I was wrong...

Bickering at the height of where we have reached,

We find it so difficult to quit in the middle to stop for the failure feat. 

Loathing what I have done,

I came to know that I  have lost so many parts of myself that now belong to none...

Watering this love,

I lost my heart to the one, who always wanted lust.

Talking about fetishes and blots,

I resonated myself with knuckled up knots...

Engines pulling me out of myself,

Whines sinking my body between heaven and hell.

When you said, that you wanna go,

I remembered that even Lucifer of love told me that he was always in big 'No-Nos'.

Walking through the venus ring ,

I came to dwell over summer flings,

Loving to the satan's death of offshoots fucked up in offspring,

Glimmer rising through my eyewalls within the wall where loathing lust leaves,

Be there to witness my death,

Be there to admire how my soul cries,

Be there to smile down at my funeral,

Where vases of flowers are wrapped in blood stains to nurture...

Our minds dive, 

where our heart can no more vibe,

Where lucifer become Satan's friend,

We sing our own graveyard grief song to weep at each other again,

Why should we live?

Why should we die?

Why can't I just stay like this?

Cutting my own bruises to further bleed...

If I could ever not bicker and blast of what you did to my soul,

Your next lover would cut your throat and make you moan to console,

Like the way you go,

Like the way you leave,

Like the way you used to sleep,

Like the way you used to weep,

I have learnt and unlearnt all the tricks to be in your league,

Unfortunately only till my heart don't shed tears of red gold to empower a monster like you,who made me feel weak...

Attraction, affection, infatuation, crushes, all will be dead one day,

When deadly love would surmount in the devil's gate,

As romeo couldn't come back to Juliet,

And john couldn't save back her jasmine,

Love like this would be an artefact of incomplete aesthetism,

But what we do here is just, is just, is just carrying the load of our own Egotistic narcissism. 

(Kyuki pyaar kisi ko pana nhi hai,

Pyaar Ko to kisi ko apne liye rulana hai,

Kyuki vo pyaar hi kaisa, jaha khoon ke chheete, dhabbe na bane,

Aur vo pyaar hi kyaa, jaha pyar karne vala, apne pyaar ke liye katal na kare)

Leeza