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Showing posts from December, 2015

The wrath of time...

I can only hear this faint ticking of the clock, reminding me: time waits for none... But for me the universe has come to an aweful halt. As if each second takes a century to elapse. Maybe because, we could never seal the cracks on our wall that separated us. We could never clean the dust of mistakes from our rotten souls. This feeling is intensely crushing . I weep alone and cornered.. clutching only my loneliness closer. Everything still remains the same. These memories of you spilling into my mind like flood waters into an unkept house... Memories that are meant to be jostling  through the lost avenues, heading to dissolve into flimsy sheets of nostalgic reminiscence. But one thing I know, I would cherish you, through all that love will put me to. Swerving like a flower in wilderness through the wrath of time. 

Ephemeral

I can't put it in words, Oh, hell it does hurt. But I know our love is stranded on a cliff And all it will take, is a leap of faith We'll land in paradise or hell And still, my love for you will glimmer like a last hope. Undaunted, beyond our ephemeral lifetimes.

Just saying...

If ever, your heart races back to the garden of forbidden love , ask the molten moonlight, for it will echo my endless rantings to the radiance of your eyes. If ever, time heals the wounds she gave you, ask the immortal leaves, for they will lament the endless sorrows they've embraced like dewdrops on their palms. If ever memories remind you of the smile on my lips, or the tears in my eyes at the sight of you ,oh do not, my dear, forget to ask the fragrant breeze if it was magic? Or madness? For it has, in deed,  witnessed the blood I spilt on my paper dying for you...

In me...

In me, you'll find the calm you'd been searching in the vast tumults of life, the yearnings of a nightingale bereaved, bereft of love. In me, you'll find the soul that fits into the crevices of yours like puzzle pieces, the aurora your midnights die into. In me, my love, you'll find the woman, complete like a blossom in spring. In me, your nirvana.

Midnights of a bruised poet...

There are some nights when i feel really helpless. Like i can't drag this burden of living any further. Hopes, surviving like bamboo sticks on a river, start dwindling . When i close my eyes, i see all blurry. Something in me asks me to leave this battleground and move to safer embraces of peace. But something else persuades me to wake up the next morning, and fight the evils back. Teach them that no matter what may come, I am a woman who was born to win. But all mornings aren't same. Some mornings i wake up with a tear in my eyes knowing for sure I'd been dreaming of you. That breaks me. That ruins me to know the ironical truth that i have all that i wanted, in my dreams. But you know, that keeps me going too. The craving to see your tired eyes and hold them in mine, like a picture in a camera is what rows me to shores away from this whirlpool called life..