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  • drishty_das 35w


    To the one flying far away,
    I hope you see sunsets
    more beautiful than here.
    I hope the wind, rain and snow
    are kind to you
    when you fly to places
    you've always wished to go.

    I hope people love and adore you
    for your heart and kindness
    because they will be lucky to have you,
    as I am.
    I hope you fly and reach your greatest heights
    and build a nest on a tree with flowers.
    I hope when you get lost
    you always find your way.

    And when one day you visit me
    I hope you tell me
    all about your adventures
    around the world.
    I hope under your wings,
    with foreign smell of wind and trees,
    you still feel like home


  • drishty_das 48w

    Why do you think
    no flowers will bloom
    on the plant
    grown from the seed,
    you've yet not sown.


  • drishty_das 52w

    Un/Re-Making Me

    The poetries that reside inside me
    are like a ledger of unbalanced anger
    over unsutured emotions and
    so much hate
    that makes me feel invincible at times,
    but I know are my greatest weakness.

    I try to dull those poetries from coming out
    by filling my ears and mind
    with heavy bass and rock.
    Because if they ever materialised
    they be would a misunderstood Medusa who was wronged by many.
    They be would something evil protecting something fragile and innocent.

    I wish sometimes
    to write the anger out of me
    until my heart has cried every tear out,
    until my mind has decluttered every thought out,
    until my fingers have bled every emotions in ink.
    I wish my poetries of anger
    are not about hate.
    I want them to be
    about freedom and self love,
    about being strong and innocent.
    I want them to be about me,
    a better me.


  • drishty_das 58w

    @mirakee @writersnetwork @mirakeewriter @mirakeeworld @poetrybrain

    #she #pod #writerstolli #sacrifices #nothing #everything #love #shade #shield #sympathy #kind #toy #sorrows #used #notears #unedited

    The very first poem I wrote almost 7 years back. It was pleasant surprise to me back then. Posting it here unedited.

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    She (is/was)

    She cures with love, her love is medicine.
    She is a shield, she is the shade.
    She steps down to let him rise.
    She lives the pain in no noise.
    She is sacrifice.
    She is everything.

    She is sympathy with big heart.
    She is firm as a tall tower.
    She cries his tears, his worries she bears.
    Blank page is her character with not a drop of ink.
    She is kind.
    She is everything.

    she used to be his shadow.
    used and killed and thrown by him so often like a mere toy.
    She has cried all her tears for him.
    Now she is left with none of it.
    She is in pain.
    She was everything.

    Respect is now not her jewell.
    She lives in corner and dies in corner.
    She is engulfed in the darkness of his greed.
    She is sad but her sorrows are not his.
    She was love.
    She was everything.

    She is a play now, mere entertainment.
    A candle about to be blown.
    No one knows her, no one praises her.
    Her page torn in tiny bits.
    Her sacrifice isn't worth a penny.
    Her smile is a blue moon.
    She used to be everything but now


  • drishty_das 59w


    I fear to be that piece of poetry
    written on an old parchment
    in between the pages
    of a book
    that has been
    long forgotton in the corner
    of the bookshelf.

    I fear to be that twig of leaves
    that has been,
    for years,
    pressed in between
    the pages of an old diary
    and now her veins are visible
    to your naked eyes,
    that you would abandon
    because she is too bare,
    too plain now.

    I fear to be that storm
    at night
    who rattles the windows,
    upturns the roots
    and fills everything with her tears
    only to be a regretful image of
    in the day light.

    I fear to be the warmth
    of that soft blanket
    on those early rainy mornings
    when the pitter patter
    is comforting to sleep to
    which wont allow the feet
    to touch the cold floor
    and walk out
    to maybe see
    a rainbow.

    I fear to be that vase,
    that sits on a stool in my room
    with a long line of scar
    where she had once cracked
    into two parts,
    is often told to be thrown away
    because now she is just a broken
    piece of an art.

    I fear if they made a pill
    in Pink and blue
    to unlearn your fears
    and become comfortingly
    I would take one
    and lose myself to
    a continuing stillnes again.


  • drishty_das 66w

    Far end

    and on the boat
    i set sail to far away
    to see what's beyond
    of the things
    now left behind
    of what
    will now be
    blurry pictures
    in the mind.

    days when
    waves and wind
    take the lead
    sailing towards
    an emerging sun
    sparkling the diamonds
    on the sea waves,
    is when
    i'm yet again amazed
    at something
    not man made.

    at times
    sun, wind and water
    make me desire
    it's the feet
    that wants to feel
    the soil and
    a mesmerising
    stillness again.
    but the yearn
    to voyage ahead
    is more
    so maybe
    one day
    i'll give in
    when i
    come across a city
    that calls out my heart
    to walk on its land.

    are no more
    hidden by
    standing structures
    of brick
    so now the dark sky
    lies bare to me
    adorned in its
    twinkly pearls
    i'd often wondered
    to be
    million of lanterns,
    that had flown so far afar,
    and now when they
    we call them stars.

    in that wide stretch
    of the sea
    i sailed alone
    but then
    a cool gentle breeze
    ruffled my hair
    and touched my face
    in a soft caress,
    gave me a sense of
    another presence.
    we felt each other then,
    the universe
    and me,
    so we voyaged until
    the far end.


  • drishty_das 66w

    Something akin to the sizzling cup of china
    of that freshly brewed coffee.
    With a roasty aroma of earth
    rising from that liquid of brown.
    Those little blow of air,
    the lips whispered to the misty steam.
    The anticipatory sip of hot
    was a draught of cascading warmth.
    Then the tongue welcomed the bitter
    with a little dash of sweet.
    All the senses were reawakened
    with a content filled sigh.
    While the hands nursed the warm china
    eyes gazed at the morning sky.


  • drishty_das 66w


    All you saw was a normal person.
    If only you'd looked deeper into her eyes,
    that still holds the wonder of being lost in a snowy wood,
    has seen the valour of warriors,
    felt the fearlessness of a queen,
    wandered to worlds through a door,
    made friends on lands unknown,
    felt the thrill of meeting The One,
    cherished the moment between lovers,
    shed tears for some farewells,
    swayed to the tunes of the strings,
    slept on the grass under the starry sky,
    galloped around the valleys and towns,
    voyaged to the end of the world.
    If only you had looked deeper into her soul,
    you would know
    she is a wayfarer,
    just not of this mundane world.

  • drishty_das 66w

    Perfection is a lens that blurs your vision to see beauty in simpler things in life.


  • drishty_das 71w

    @mirakee @writersnetwork @mirakeeworld @writerstolli

    #pod #mirakeeworld #mirakee #pain #survival #destruction #hope #rebuild #grief #mirakeecontest

    After I wrote this and tried entering I realised that I can't participate in the contest without premium membership. But since I've already written it, I'm posting it here anyways.

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    Dell, you know some destructions are like forest fires, they paralyse you slowly and seem unending while others are like storm, they break you in one go and pass away in seconds. But all destructions are painful and maybe feeling that pain is like breathing, only latter is a necessity to live and former to survive. There are days when pain is so extreme as if your veins have grown thorns and everytime you move or breath or cry or mourn, it hurts so much that you end up sitting still and gazing at nothingness for long. This pain and grief numbs all the sensations in the body that you feel nothing but only a sense of loss. A loss of someone or something or maybe a loss of own self.

    But you know pain is also an empowering emotion which has the power to break you down and also to build you up. If only you would cling to your pain, and not let it fester your roots, to unfeel everything, akin to being in a deep slumber where everything seems unreal and you know your fears will leave you once you open your eyes. So when one day you do wake up, the pain is less intense and it hurts little less than it did on that first day, you will feel a very faint, flickering light ignite in your heart and in that moment you will know that there is hope and you will be okay.

    Of course you will not be the same as you were before because destructions only leave behind debris and chaos of tall buildings and still hearts. But if only you would change your lense and see not everything broken is a mess, you would know how to pick yourself up with that pain thriving in your veins.