_firefly

but it's not the end.

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  • _firefly 1w

    @_astitva_ Happy birthday bhaiya��

    #rajeevkabirthday


    PS.. Still not here. Take care everyone. Miss y'all ✨

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    His shadow is covered in the tranquility of pearls,
    His voice lined with the sweetness of peaches,
    He carries a hope in his crimson heart,
    lighting up the dark streets which hide the abandoned art.

    His eyes shine with a constellation of simplicity,
    And his hand recoil the withered poems,
    Lost behind the veil of chaos in my head
    With a gentleness of his brotherly presence.

    _firefly

  • _firefly 3w

    A Poet after sunset is a lost Lover.

    I am watching the painted sky depicting tranquil beauty in the shades of golden and lilac. The saffron sun is submerged deeply into the running ocean behind the skyline. Melancholy residing in my eyes, flows out as stars, that decorate the dusk, wrapping it beneath the thick scent of casa blanca lilies, blooming under the moonlight.

    I stand against the wind caressing my crimson cheeks with gentle metaphors embodied in the high palm trees. Your name I wrote on the sand washes away as the waves hit my frail feet, again and again, reminding me of all the hollow promises of always that you made. It leaves me empty with nothing but tears in my eyes and pain in my heart.

    Two things are eating my soul, this full moon night and your absence. I write nightime poems, describing your beauty and how the moon sang rhymes for it. Broken stars do not fulfill my wishes anymore because if they did, you'd be lying here, next to me, curled up in my yearning arms. Darkness of the midnight blue, runs in my veins, robbing me of all the happy moments we shared.

    I am the midnight of forgotten memories hidden in your heart, behind the veil of your love for her. And you are my most beautiful daydream, with those pastel clouds and candy pink skies. And we, are my only fragmented forever and its pieces still lie in my incomplete proses, longing to be concluded.

    _firefly

    #start #wod @writersnetwork

    Yes a prose after a long time.

    Will see you again soon. Near Christmas. Take care everyone ��

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  • _firefly 3w

    *ananya plays in background*

    My dear,

    Remember that song we wrote and sang? And then you combined all the audios? Yes I still listen to it when I feel alone because I don't/can't talk to people. I listen to it to know that you're near me when you're practically 500 kms far. I love you. With all the love in my heart, I love you.

    ~
    A rdent poetry falls from her mouth as,
    N avy blue sky glitters with pearly stars
    A nd her hands caress curled pages of old
    N ovel, making her the muse of a poet's
    Y earning heart and passionate eyes who rests
    A mong the scents of her beautiful neat presence.
    ~

    MAY ALL THE JOY IN THE WORLD FALL INTO YOUR LAP. YOU'RE THE BEST.

    Remember the study sessions we did together? Yes that's the last time I studied properly and I'm trying again. I'm trying to be the better person like you always wanted me to. I told you about every inch of every scar my heart ever suffered. And you have tucked yours very carefully, somewhere away, because you're really wise. There's no harm in concealing it.

    ~
    /People call me a poet,
    An artist in love
    But I was just in love
    An artist was painted by him
    On my skin/

    Her hands bleed poetries, covered in love and warmth of silver moon. She walks on the grass, barefoot, decorating nights with her starry aura, wearing a blush gown and a tiara, festooned with gardenias and fireflies.

    /Maybe next time you'll borrow my art and smudge it off your skin, because if writers are artists, let lovers be./

    The canvas of her eyes reflect the irises painted by van gogh on a drunk, lonely night. She flies with courage even though the world tries her to all limits. She never lets anyone hold her down.

    /Let it fall in love with him
    Let it live
    Let it be a heart./

    Her heart bleeds golden on days when the hope is lost, too far, behind the horizon. She stares at the sunsets, with a calmness ruling over her face. She recites sonnets of joy, restoring faith inside forlorn souls.

    /Because it's the dustiest things that are the most beautiful,
    On which we refuse to give up/

    The locks of her hair, cascade like the river of optimism running perennially. She dances with the demons and defeats them with a tender kiss on their cheek. She is the silver lining in those dense clouds of delirious times.
    ~

    @sighsandskies HAPPY BIRTHDAY��❤
    Thank you so much for being a part of my existence.

    Yours lovingly
    Harsho

    / lines belong to ananya herself.

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  • _firefly 3w

    Nature's Embodiment

    The SUN rises above the
    cleavage of strong mountains
    across the deep valley,
    shining with hope and optimism.
    ~ It teaches us to be persistent and unbiased.

    The BIRDS chirp
    through fields, finding
    little twigs to built
    a safe home for its own.
    ~ They enlighten us about the bonds of family.

    The clear RIVER flows
    consistently, glittering
    under the full moon,
    providing abode to
    numerous aquatic creatures.
    ~ It tells us to move forward despite of obstacles.

    The BUTTERFLIES break their
    cocoons and flutter across
    the tulip gardens, caressing
    flowers and sprinkling motley joy.
    ~ They preach about patience, which is love, in its purest form.

    The oak TREES sway
    along the whooshing winds,
    covering miles of land
    into lush green patches
    of unlimited wisdom.
    ~ They educate us to never forget our roots.

    The unending OCEAN expanded
    till the feet of horizon,
    reflects colours of its lover,
    the SKY, who remains
    free from all the stains.
    ~ They prepare us how to love when our lover is far.

    The MOON carries itself
    to the highest spot of azure,
    wearing a transparent gown,
    shimmering down sparkle
    like silver flakes over its blemishes.
    ~ It awakens us about how beauty is not always perfect, it can have scars.

    _firefly

  • _firefly 4w

    When my fingers forget art, spring blooms
    bringing hopeful scents of daffodils,
    and the fragrant orbs floating in the air,
    heal all the wounds my heart carries.

    When roses outgrow the thorns, spring blooms
    painting plum serenity over the sunsets,
    and I steal the rainbows from the sky
    to paint colours over my bland soul.

    When humans forget humanity, spring blooms
    teaching lessons of patience through
    butterflies and fireflies, breaking out
    of their cocoons and eggs.

    When this poet forgets poetry, spring blooms
    embedding metaphors over pastel clouds
    and tree blossoms sprint with joy,
    bringing home crimson shades of love.

    ~ nature is a bliss and humans cannot even revert back one cent of what it does for us.

    _firefly

  • _firefly 4w

    How many things have we missed last year and the year before that and the one before that. But if we keep counting all of them you know what will slip away from our hands? Now. Now is all we have. Your presence here is all that matters. You can make this place the best. You can carve your personality into a wonderful shape, only if you focus on this right moment.

    I have lost many people during the past because sometimes people don't care about you as much as you do for them and I know that many of you are going to leave too. Eventually best friends become just friends and then acquaintances and then just a memory. But if we keep reminiscing about it, we will live the worst life ever. Don't think about what's gone. Think about what must be waiting for you.

    Make the right choices, also make the wrong ones. Because right ones may lead you to your destination but the wrong ones will teach you life lessons. I know this sounds more like a lecture and less like a wish, but this is what I wanted to say, since so long. It's okay to make mistakes. It's okay to cry. It's okay to not be okay. Because trust me on this, pain is the best teacher. A whole life filled with joy will be monotonous.
    Be sad but never give up hope.

    And yes, BE YOU, BE KIND.

    Happy Diwali ��✨��

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  • _firefly 4w

    I have been growing hope in your backyard,
    in secret, lining it silently behind
    the white petals of petunias and lilies
    you smell everyday before the sunrays
    kiss the feet of your grass filled garden.
    There is so much beauty and serenity
    dripping down your hazel brown eyes,
    which cry every night for all the untold
    myriad losses your bones have braved.
    You smile like those abandoned flowers,
    your mother left to wither, after your
    father's cremation, for they reminded
    her of his gentle words and kind heart.
    And the courage in your crimson cheeks
    expands as you see the sun, rise every
    morning, tirelessly, blazing all alike.
    You carry those petals to decorate your
    hair and your heart, scenting your presence
    with the golden hope, my hands weaved for you.

    _firefly

    #start #wod #somuchc @writersnetwork thank you❤ #fireflywn

    PS. For a friend. ��

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  • _firefly 4w

    When sunflowers fall off my eyes
    and the sky gets covered in
    obscurity of the greyish pastel clouds,
    hiding the silver flaking stars who
    once guided me on my way home,
    I knock the door of a library,
    filled with the scent of muses
    of various poets and writers,
    who once got lost just like me.
    My heart gets filled with serenity,
    decorated with the presence of
    enormous lifetimes written inside
    those worn pages, longing to be read.
    There is so much feeling and pain
    hidden behind the black fonts, embedded
    in the wilted walls of these books,
    which I can relate to, for I am left alone,
    in the dark streets of unhinged emotions,
    where only these books keep me sane.

    _firefly // Books are a man's best friend.



    #start #somuchc #wod @writersnetwork ❤ reverting love back!

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  • _firefly 4w

    TW: VIVID IMAGERY (CAN BE DISTURBING)


    When forgiveness is a sin

    I am sorry for punishing you
    Oh wait, actually I am not,
    Dare you stare into my eyes
    And ask why!
    Because you are a monster
    who took away my self esteem,
    that night, when you crept in my bedroom,
    with a faint tread of your evil feet
    You tore apart my tunic
    Digging your dirty fingernails
    into my bare scarless skin,
    You shoved a cloth in my mouth,
    to stop my screams from being heard
    by the careless humans residing
    behind the walls of my room.
    You robbed me of
    my innocence,
    my dignity,
    my sanity,
    leaving me bereft of emotions
    and joy,
    which I once thought were mine.


    Am I sorry for punishing you
    Oh wait! I am actually not
    Because your abusive hands
    dried out all my hopes
    and positivity and made me
    Silent casualty as
    You assaulted me,
    Again and again,
    Ruthlessly,
    Cruelly,
    with a sluttish drunkenness,
    ruling above your head.
    My muffled cries
    broke me into pieces
    creating deep incurable voids
    inside my mind and
    the bruises you gave me
    on my cheeks
    throbbed as my salt filled
    tears hit them.
    With your every touch
    I felt
    the life inside me
    twist and turn,
    And at last it was
    butchered
    when you left me alone
    bleeding
    to death.
    You robbed me of
    my innocence,
    my dignity,
    my sanity,
    leaving me with a flaming fire of vengeance,
    burning my insides.

    I am sorry for punishing you,
    Oh wait, actually I am not,
    for you deserved your
    head to be separated from your torso,
    with the axe and the anger my father gave me,
    As a family heirloom,
    Because you tore apart my soul from my body.
    You! You robbed me of
    my innocence,
    my dignity,
    my sanity,
    leaving me emptily lying on cold floor
    And air choking my breaths with the scents of your filthy feet.

    I am sorry for killing you
    Oh no! I'm terribly not
    Neither for being victim of your vicious deed,
    Nor for making your inhuman heart bleed.
    I am sorry for killing you
    Oh no! I'm terribly not
    Neither for taking justice into my own hands,
    Nor for being a woman who'll be forever damned.

    My hands are blazing red, is it your blood or my agony.

    _firefly



    #epistrophe #wod @writersnetwork thank you ❤ #fireflywn

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  • _firefly 5w

    Of growing up and nostalgia.

    A throbbing thought pricks your heart, while you swallow all your guilt of procrastination down your throat. The pending work lying over your desk, glares at you, horribly, projecting the failure you approach. Your undone hair frustrate your eyes, dried from the absence of poetical pastel clouds in the sky above your head. The mornings are chilly and the afternoon are like the childhood summer days where you clenched your fists to your father's shirt, while he drove you to the ice cream parlour, but now you're grown up and you miss everything. The city lights blur the vision of night sky and the gardenias can't be smelled anywhere near your crowded industrial street. You run a mile, or sometimes two, for it seems to lessen the crowd around and the burden you carry on your chest, a responsibility of being something/someone in your mortal existence. You drink loneliness, and it quenches your thirst for solace. You suddenly feel alive, more like a recovered human and less like a lost poet.

    _firefly

    @writersnetwork thank you for ❤

    ~some raw emotions

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