When words have lost their power;
Silence, more meaningful than asseveration
Spellbound to the conflicts of the heart
Staring vacantly into the void

Every utterance mulled over,
Petrified of rousing wrath.
Averse to the sarcasm and scrutiny.
Face downcast, ominous desolation

Exasperation spiraling to impotent rage;
Defenses broken
Helplessly witnessing the erosion –
of all things sacred.

This chasm, unbridgeable;
Veil of uncertainty –
drawn to blind the visage.
Scrimmaging to gain the –
moral high ground.

Slipping and sliding headlong
Drowning into an abyss
Past the event horizon
Hope eviscerated.

–Prashant Thomas


Monkey on my shoulder

suicidal depression

Darkness engulfs me like a shroud
Twin orbs searching the depths
Reaching out to tether –
with columns of familiarity

Visions of mutilated parts
The noose hangs overhead
Hate for the self perpetuates –
like viral pain

When failure becomes your friend
You wish the rest of you  –
would melt away.
Is there a choice?

Killing yourselves softly
A 1000 times a day
But it’s not enough
until the deed is done.

Save me from my fears
and the darkest thoughts of her
Carry me through times
Through oblivion.


I fall too fast, crash too hard, forgive too easily, and care too much


& depressed
Feeling sad, meaningless & depressed

We stride with purpose
as if we are the overlords
masters of our destiny
we raise our fists to heaven
to establish our dominion

Time looked back
she simpered at the arrogance.
muggles meandering in meaningless circles
scripting inner monologues,
to justify their existence

In this plane of existence
a journey that we call life
like busy bees dancing a strange routine
lies, lust, money, vanity & power
the many faces of illusion

so many things – important things
devices to exaggerate our self-worth
How we miss those?
where withal be our zest
sweet nothings and an iota of fame

soaking ourselves with words,
and actions to cloak our emotions
grandeur & majesty,
failure & insignificance
All means to an end

In the end, who remembers?
the sum and substance of our lives –
a point in an infinite line
plotting a course to extinction
thoughts decamping into the
shadows of a distant past.

-Prashant Thomas

Skirting with death

Feasting with the crows

feeling so down…. miss my kids…

( If you know me personally and  you feel the need to unwind… Please find  another spot… This spot is reserved.)

Breaking Up


When I saw you step away
I didn’t think it would be permanent
I knew you would want to fly away
but never envisaged your flight to be godsend

Things that we promised each other
The thoughts that we shared
Secrets that were nobodies business,
became the talk of the marketplace

How much, we have fallen
How much have we dismissed each other
The betrayal planned and impenitent
sans guilt or compunction

A word would have been nice
A ta-ta would have been gracious
But you left me with neither
Not even a brief moment with the children

If I had to do it all over again
I would not change a line
my heart will always be yours,
but my conscience will always be mine.

No regrets, no  second thoughts
but for the tantrums & screams
of little feet and fingers
from a distant past.

— Prashant Thomas

Remission & Redemption

Missing my Children

My soul, on the prowl
Pausing to lay out a trail,
of failure, defeat & fetid imagination
Comeuppance to my pride & wayward life
Behold, thy creation

A father moans for his long lost son
His heart flutters at the name of his creation
Emptied, transmuted, servile
Arms outstretched, profound agony
Behold, the emancipator

Perchance I graced the truth
Truth that bridges the chasm
Between this life and the next
Drenched in grace.
Behold, thy salvation.

Beauty and grace,
Salvation and glory,
Ascension of the created,
Crowned with glory & majesty
Behold, the kingdom

— Prashant Thomas

Only Jesus could build a bridge with two pieces of wood
Only Jesus could build a bridge with two pieces of wood