Our great men of hope.



I could have written this better,
but I can’t. Anything I say might just turn out to be a travesty.
But I will try.

Breaking points reached,
And ropes are his hope tonight,
As beautiful he might have been,
Even though he had put on a tough fight.
At least was known he lived better than many.
Died on a higher stance.
Guess it makes you worry,
How many Andy’s did we lose to chance.
Chance which was at the hands of stake holders insolent,and conceited.
We let it pass by,
We didn’t want to feel smitten,
By things we can’t control.
Like his friendships on those consecutive tedious days.
A witty narrator, and a band of different tales.
He took him under his wings,
Or maybe it was the other way.
They made each other happy, brought change.
A good, fatal life.
You see though, our beautiful man
wasn’t just beautiful. He was smart.
He left the living profanity clueless as ever.
And did what wasn’t done before.
No matter what exquisite talents the subject hold,
He gave a good quote.

I end curtly now without explaining much of my niche deductions.
And I quote him for the formidable man he was.
“I guess it comes down to a simple choice, really.
Get busy living, or get busy dying.”

-Sabah Batul






The swords were sworn to secrecy,
the pestering was stopped.
Lives were spared.
The carnage at halt.
They thought Precious was solicited,
by Kings, honorable of their time.
And was announced,
Oh dear villagers,
rest tonight.
Years will pass by, as they should.
Light hits the blades.
Yes, we are at war.
War with the grotesque creatures.
The creatures which lay low.
They come out at twilight.
When the sky sheds black snow.
When the time is right they will attack,
as they did before!
Please stay put my Knights of valour.
Make use of the armor you wore.

The innocent need sleep tonight.
So fight tomorrow for them.
Let’s stay close.
Our time is near.
Heed to all my warning!

Then when the skirmish is loud.
Brawls and chaos everywhere.
The mighty fall down.
The dead will stay awake.

A beautiful dark battle will be fought.
Prudent people live on.
This is your tomorrow.
Listen to what I say.
A war is coming your way.
And my jobs done,
My premonition shared.

-Sabah Batul


Let’s stay friends?




My heart feels faux pain,
Unaware if it is real.
Missing you!
Looking from afar isn’t ideal.
A charitable meet,
Without thoughts of the future.
Let’s live in today darling,
give up your act of mature.
I don’t want your forever for me,
just have a conversation, maybe.
Be my fling friend.
Stop pushing me away,
Stop trying to protect me,alright?
I’ll lookout for me.
And I’ll find peace somewhere.
So let’s flirt and laugh,
Talk and shake hands.
Date and depart.
Hug and promise never to call,
And break the promise as well.
Let’s have late night calls.
Beautiful morning text’s.
I’ll video call you all decked up,
wait for your voice,
have small fights,feel vexed.
Let’s post to each other letters online.
Do all the cliché drama,
Go out and dine.

Whatever we do..let’s just live our day.
I’ll be heartbroken later,obviously.
But I’ll have my friends to discuss about you and me.
We’ll gossip, share ice-cream over movies.
And soon I’ll be over you.
Ready for a new crush.
So walk away when we are done.
It was good what we had, while it lasted.
I’ll just hang out here now, watching you go….
I’ll have company,
My hoes before bros.
But hey,
Let’s stay friends?

-Sabah Batul.

The walls.



The walls of his blunt blank thoughts,
remain empty when looked in.
There are a few random colored dreams.
Black, green, crimson.
A few devoted songs,
to anonymous names and grins.
A few encounters,
Incidents, dramas, scorned nights.
A few speeches,a few fights.
All unheard, all to himself.
This is his safe haven.
His locked up room.
The walls enclose his agitated needs.
And the walls suffice most nights.
But sometimes, being heard even though spoken is required.
So he stares wide.
He speaks, they contemplate.
But no one surely understands.
The walls remain locked.
He remains chained.
To his own blank thoughts.
And HE, our leading pathetic soul.
HE is left unnamed.

-Sabah Batul

They were attacked.



Are u listening?
They were attacked today.
People are trying to find blame.
But that’s not our gray.
Our ages gray is their distress.
And their last difficult breathes.
Their struggle to see the world.
Their struggle to live.
Their struggle to save their young cribs.
Their struggle to find their family.
Their struggle to protect them.
And I don’t know how many wars
they fight every moment.
But today,
It was to live.
But they couldn’t.
And you think it’s about who to blame?
No it isn’t.
It’s about saving what’s left of Syria.
Or Palestine.
Or any life lost in the name of war.
Maybe not a utopia, but the death toll can be stopped!
It’s just land. Stop fighting for power.
Stop the killing.

Hey listen,
Why aren’t you in turmoil?
This isn’t just a news headline,
This isn’t another war movie.
Don’t relinquish this away.
Don’t waiver them,
they are people not toys at display.
Don’t just sit and nod,or sigh.
Give them your courage, help them fight.
They have to win.
Win their opportunity to
A life.
A good night’s sleep.
A happy neighborhood.
So why aren’t you gaping?
How are you continuing your life?
When they aren’t escaping,
Those air strikes, those bombs.
They can’t obviously out run,
the bullet storms.
Help them now.
They want to live.
Help them and those refugees.
Take your stand.
Your voice counts!
Because they were attacked.

-Sabah Batul
#stopthewars #syria #yemen #palestine #ghaza


The postcard dream.






I had one.
The postcard dream,
without my envelope,
the one with lucid deeds.
There were moaning sights,
lust and thrust,
more than I could bite.

Beautiful it was,
Beautiful and empowering.
I want to see it again,
With a new character starring.
The new adventure,
derogate from my daily trails.
Makes me come
before I turn stale.

For this dream,
I want him.
Him whose perfume alone
gets my blood running hot.
His hoarse voice,
and my control lost.
With every clothing he is to lose,
and the flavors we have to choose,
before he begins to taste me.
The depths amidst my glee.
Slowly, mouthful, luscious.
And we are on a new spree.
The kind which requests,
Attention to each others
hidden nests.
From yours I swallow and yearn.
Yearn for more,
Until your scream and groan I learn.
Our skin hot, breathes deep.
More coming to feel.
Many more kisses indeed.
Yes, I want to dream tonight.
Feel his girth. Understand my needs more.
I want to relive every moment of it
to its sensual height.

-Sabah Batul

The meaning of his love.



I am trying to understand what the meaning of love is.
Love brings equity.
It brings a kiss of hope.
You share yourself,
into each other allured.

True love though is a matter different,
different of its kind. Colossal even.
it’s the music only his ear hears,
while to deafness the other reclines.

True love is his truly.
For her, his every dream changed.
it’s the light his light house gleams,
but only in vain.
As his light was his truly.
She could never want to see it enough.
Blinded by dubious desires.
She brooded for a different love.
The type you can hire maybe.

His soul was wed to hers.
So he waited for her to fall for him.
But see, his love was so true.
So pure. So in-depth of a soulful realm,
that no one could possibly share it with him.

So he took his love to his grave sleep.
He keeps it to himself, unwillingly.

Hence, I try to make his cameo,
but he made himself immortal.
And I am just a sideline watcher.
I watch what true love is.
And still, I don’t understand. No one ever will. No one like him.

-Sabah Batul

She don’t



She don’t.

Don’t care about what others think.
Don’t let them break you.
Don’t be labelled.
Don’t do the don’ts.

She don’t.
She doesn’t walk in the shadows.
The shadow is where she was born.
She isn’t broken, she bows down.
She isn’t labeled.
She already hates what the mirror shows.
She doesn’t fear your abyss.
She breathes better in it.
She isn’t a legend.
Or your story to write.
She isn’t rabid about much.
About stuff that you say matters.

She isn’t modest.
She knows there isn’t an inside.
You touch her soul, it’s not black.
It is colorless.
Like water. Taking shape of its mould,
but unable to stay without support.

Her mind is empty,
No matter her stride.
It’s blank, with no note to leave.
She won’t leave a mark behind.
She is foul, vile, loathsome, your lesser than ordinary.
A mere observer who forgets.
Like you will her.

You take a look at her,
She straps on a fake smile.
So fake, she forgets what’s real.
She stifles her self slowly.
Slowly believing in what she doesn’t understand.
And when her wars over,
she isn’t changed or victorious.
Still lacks substance.
Yet what you say doesn’t matter.
She is lost and stray.
Don’t try to find her for your day.
She isn’t yours or anyone else’s.

Now that you think you know her,
You cannot afford her,
Or try to patronize,
Or make her oblige.
Because… She don’t.

-Sabah Batul


I had a dream




So I had a dream last night,
We are all on a hike.
There wasn’t much of a story line.
Except we all slowly die.
I wake up today and realise.
My dream came true.
I got more wise.
Start with adding a story,
To my meaning less day.
Making it worthwhile.
For whoever decides to stay.
Stay and alive, be a part of today.
I am going to be kind to you.
Till dusk turns the sky grey.
And then again.
We all go for a hike.
All the faces in my dream
Are happy faces alive.
I win my struggle for today.
Tomorrow might be different again.
But for now let another dream commence.
-Sabah Batul

Beauty sends regards to Beast.





Only if it was easier to cross my lines and reach my limit.

If it was only easier to fly to where you are.

But I cannot without the fear of obliterate.

I cannot without loosing what I thought I want.

Until I can, parameters matter.

And I stay on ground, because I am not ready yet.

I am losing a chance at our something, beast.

For what it’s worth you were the something I didn’t know existed for me.

You were the chivalry in a plummeting world.

I wish we could quibble more.

But I guess I have to look forward to petulant brutes now.

Until then, here’s to a chance we never got.

Here’s to all the problems in our lives we never shared.

Here’s my tribute to my almost.

I was opening up,but it was your time to close.

So dear beast I hope we cross paths again.

Until then, you will be my almost, Love.

Beauty sends regards to Beast

-Sabah Batul.