31 posts
  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 7w

    #combination #confessionc
    Why do I write poetry ? @writersnetwork
    #ak_prose #ak_wn_repost

    All Rights Reserved
    13 Oct 2021 9.55 am

    Poet-tries ~

    Poetry sits on my tongue like a pack of camphor and I light it with my own hands, without trembling or quivering. It burns me, bleeds me, cuts me, wounds me but not as much as my heart burns inside my ribs //

    I'm someone who hates routine, and discards
    rules, yet I make love to syllables every day w-
    hile the Helianthus heals morning mist with a-
    n upward curve of petals and every night while
    night jasmine drips honey for a far away moon.
    I'm someone who abhors principles, yet I shed
    my thoughts in free verse to seal envelopes of
    poetries just like the autumn wind shakes the
    maple leaves to pirouette all the way to land on
    pavements. I'm someone who abandons legac
    y, yet I stitch sonnets in the sombre seconds of
    existence, levitating between life and death, lo-
    ve and hate, grief and glory.

    I'm someone who ignores traditions, yet throug-
    hout the lane to my hireath, I've planted haikus
    in hues of a dream palette. I'm someone who g
    -ets annoyed with similarities and embellishme
    -nts, but my garden flourishes in similies and m
    -etaphors. I'm someone who skips side dishes,
    but my taste buds are acquaintance of tanka a
    -nd limerick. Repetition irritates me but villanelle
    and blitz are my rainbows and sunshine. I avoid confessions of all kinds, but odes are a mystery
    my mind often whispers. I don't try to pen down
    letters, but love pushes my heartbeats to weave
    my feelings as a kerchief for my dreamboat.
    I don't offer wreaths at the gateway of death,
    but my heart laments in elegies and eulogies.

    I have a spot near the valley at the far edge of the waterfall. There's a river flowing inside me that's gushing to reach there, where I sway with the summer breeze and break myself into specks of wishes. To fly with the wind as multiple wings of a dream, while the world is wailing in winter frore, I'd be sipping the honey of spring.

    It's the aftertaste of that honey, that time treasured on branches of birches, which burns with the fire dancing on my tongue. I chew some chords of ballads and barf symphonies at the eleventh hour, I bleed some phonemes and morphemes as an epitaph and a last will, before the curfew curse imprisons me in slumber. By dawn, poetries had sprouted around my grave with my signature as flowerets and my fading voice echoes around those oxymoronic daffodils and ironic daisies.

    If my poem doesn't rhyme, the feet of every syllable twirling inside the wineglass of my thesaurus glides through my throat until my emotions overflow at a spontaneous symphony. Behind my broken heart, I carry tapes of teary notations and discs of euphonious rhythm, the treasure chest in my soul never empties, as long as my life's lit on this altar.

    Poetry is my last hope to revve up the stars falling astray Painting the welkin with broken crayons in my bag of blueth //

    ©Anjali Krishna
    All Rights Reserved

    Thank you so much for Repost ❤️ @writersnetwork

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    ⍚// Poet-tries

    Poetry sits on my tongue like a pack of camphor and I light it with my own hands, without trembling or quivering
    It burns me, bleeds me, cuts me, wounds me but not as much as my heart burns inside my ribs //

    Poetry is my last hope to revve up the stars falling astray
    Painting the welkin with broken crayons in my bag of blueth //


  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 7w

    #start #foreverc #fallingc #cloudsc #apologizec #smokec
    #brokennessc #almostc #octoberc #timetoleavemylove
    @milliondreamsarekeepingmeawake I ended same line !

    All Rights Reserved
    7 Oct 2021 11 am

    (Beatrice means - she who makes happy )

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    Beatrice to Beethoven

    I love night walks, I've always loved the streets stretching long and wide before me, luring me to measure the distance between my love and my destiny, which stays hidden amidst white lights, pink frames and pied piper's songs. Even tonight I'm walking, with half a mind to stop, just return back home and the other half urging to walk until I surpass this scenery. The one which will be engraved on my mind in bold tints of hues - a buried symphony of rain(tear)drops.

    Loud zephyr surged through birches lining the asphalt. Lonely footpaths are piling heaps of dried dreams, that once had palmistry of a prospering future. Just like the rosy lines on my pale palm, they are fading and blurring. Leaving mere marks that resemble scars of being alive. Maybe they'd never disappear. Maybe they'd stay forever on me. Reminding me that I once had umpteenth possibilities, all of which got flooded by unrestricted emotions.

    The ache in my heart is tracing branches of thunderstorms lighting the darkening night sky in flashes. It all started from a single drop, that leisurely rolled off my forearm, slowly. Falling, falling and then hitting hard on the concrete crossroad. Welkin left no raindrop orphaned. More of those tragic pearls fell like an ornament of the heaving clouds. 

    Fogged streetlights adorned divinity as if a halo, blessing otherwise pitch black way. With every step I took, I let some tear drops cuddle the enlarging puddles on my way. Some steps deliberately stomped on fallen leaves, unwilling to lock away my distress. 'It must be October', my hazy mind tried to reason, why my pathway is paint-dipped in crimson-maroons and amber-bronzes. Just like my red-rimmed eyes and scar-studded thighs. 

    A heart that once poured love like marvelling monsoons have now closed off with raging smoke, a clouded mind.
    It's almost impossible to believe that he's unaware of the ways he's transformed 'from beaut to beast'. His hands tremble so hard if he can't refill poison pools in the glass bottles. Mirrors showed him neither reality nor fantasy. Music is no more his high, notations are mind maps to hell, a trepidating trap. 

    Echoes have left him aeons ago, whispers can't reach him even within hairline distance. Trumpets and drumroll veiled silence, piano poignantly ponders, violins wail intermittently. Euphony unreachable, cacophony undeterred. All that left was a mirage of eutony, not even approachable. And caresses have withered as soon as winter bound him in frore, lending me blossoming whiplashes.

    I stayed by him like a shadow that has taken an oath of solemnity. But there's only so much I can do when none of my attempts could disclose his despair. He was hell-bent on pushing me away. Would promises wither if their voices travel back to their origin ? Would love disappear if the hearts unwind their own beats ? Would forever fall down to never-again if brokenness gravitied the fall ? Who is to apologize to whom, if both are hurt and keep hurting each other ?

    This wretched rain has drenched me depressed yet my heart is shielding a drought rooted in loss. This scenery is fated to fade in forlorn.
    And every foggy breath I exhale is chanting a farewell to my once-wished-eternal-spring -
    " It's time to erase this scenery.
    It's time to leave, my love..." 

    / I couldn't be a Beatrice to his Beethoven
    For I'm Betrothed to Brokenness /


  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 8w

    #color #ak_prose
    All Rights Reserved
    2 Oct 2021 1. 55 pm
    #ak_wn_repost #ak_pod

    Basic shades of RED are 20 /
    & Coz Red is m y favorite color /

    Thank you for EC ❤️ Thank you so much for the read and love everyone. I love you all here ❤️
    Thank you so much for Repost ❤️ @writersnetwork
    3rd Hattrick !!
    Red POD ! Whoa ��❤️ I love this the most ������
    Thank you so much @miraquill & everyone who loved this !

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    20 Shades of Red

    Red ~
    I wasn't even five winters old when I first fell in love with red. Beauty, from then was, etched on those tints and shades of red, as if, while every color passed by, red lured my attention and all attraction.

    Cherry ~
    Kindergarten was a kaleidoscope of rainbow hues yet the bento box with cherry slices sticked to my taste buds. Adolescent days had me fantasizing of cherry kisses that his lips would brush on mine.

    Rose ~
    I was a toddler springing with bees and butterflies in the park when that scent seeked me. Blossoms that enchanted me with dreamy redolance and beauty was red, a hue that sparked within me such vigour and passion.

    Jam ~
    Playdates and picnics baskets with Grandma's special fruit jam thwarted homesickness to a limit. After her, someone special also has his favorite jam strawberry, while my favorite part was stealing bites of his breakfast bread.

    Merlot ~
    Autumn roasted verdant dreams and toasted hopes on grilled grief and nights had me etching my heart onto parchments. Verses soaking merlot memories and dripping metaphors were addictive while amor was so far away.

    Garnet ~
    Purging pyre polished the stone heart into glittery garnet just like my heart that pains in flames and later let all the light inside. Grieving was prohibited, for glory awaited at the end of trials.

    Crimson ~
    Sunset ribbons red over the horizon, cloudland blushing a robust rouge. That was my first kiss. Twineyes in the drowning twilight, cried crimson to the careless waves yearning caresses. That was my first heartbreak.

    Ruby ~
    Pale skin infected with infatuation, some butterflies fluttered near hip bones and ruby pimples sparkled on my cheeks while my heart slipped at his feet. Later on at late nights when sleep evades me, I grind some ruby and chew some philosophy.

    Scarlet ~
    Though A letter in Scarlet print was stamped for shame, it synergized to pride through flipped pages. Dawn welcomed my days only when he spreads some scarlet sindoor on my forehead, and that's where pride glows.

    Wine ~
    When winter passed without a summer or spring in reserve, dusks lead me astray and some bottled wishes swished in an oval glass to bring me back to the land of undead. Winedrops that parched my momentary thirst knows how deep my drought rooted.

    Brick ~
    I was twenty two summers when I held his arms and stepped into our cottage in the hills. The brick walls smeared red of our raging scent and tapped our whispers. Those winter bricks sang lullaby to my loneheart clutching to a faded silhouette.

    Apple ~
    I wasn't going to fall for temptations in this birth and you shouldn't have too. Yet history repeats itself but altered in a way, in the place of single serpent, venomous tongues tracked you. And I couldn't say no when you pushed a poisoned apple into my hands.

    Mahogany ~
    I was sweet seventeen, scared and shy, eyes searching for alphabets sewed into stories slumbering in mahogany shelves, when his gaze crossed mine and we fell into a new story. Scenery turned sweet to sour while memory remained sweet.

    Blood ~
    A hue is innate to me within, running circles while blooming life into me. Blood red races as a tapering ivy, branching off beliefs, illuminating illusions and igniting musings. If passion has a color it would be blazing red.

    Sangria ~
    First grey clouds on our skyline didn't fade away but gifted some purple patches. They lay fuming betwixt frowns and tears. Eventually cascading as burnt red anger. That was our first fight, the one that we couldn't resolve afterwards.

    Berry ~
    I was as ripe as a pink berry, and kisses were never enough. Some cravings yearned for more than sweetness. We danced through blue to red and reached purple and sour desserts sated souls. One bite of berry and I'd think of your marks on my soul.

    Currant ~
    And I hide behind black and grey shadows when my own love scares me to death. Red also meant danger, so I lay under the veil of tinted melancholy, my love growing in the shade. My red wasn't really red, it was a mirage of black.

    Blush ~
    And he never wrote Poetries about my smile or sang songs about my dimple. When the last of my blushes sank, I realized that he did nothing but made my blushes bleed.

    Candy ~
    I was twelve springs young and ignorant of the taste of kisses but my dreamboat chewed on bubble gums as if obsessed of it. He replaced the flavor of candies and gems and sowed some red seeds that tasted of his breath.

    Lipstick ~
    Life was too short to stay wilted forever. As the spring of love dried up leaving lipstick smudges as signature of heartbreaks, I gulped some red and saved the rage to ensure my fight. Because even if love ends or not, life sure goes on.


  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 10w

    #combination #ak_wn_repost #ak_prose

    All Rights Reserved
    17 Sept 2021 11.11 am

    Really ヽ(。◕o◕。)ノ. Thank you so much for Repost @writersnetwork ✧✧

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    ✻// Between goodbye and leaving

    The moment between saying goodbye and leaving feels like an aeon cradling an infant heartache, a blooming thorn rooting over trachea, climbing though windpipe and budding over the tongue. It's a rather stubborn blossom, sticking to the freezing moments of recurring flashbacks, as if mortality of this life is about to slip through the hands of time, within moments from now. Thorns stitching lips and paralysing vocals, or else the shattering heart would take reigns, stifle and stutter, forgive and flutter, undo and utter, " it was the spur of the moment. "

    ~ No it wasn't ~

    This moment is a one-eighty turn in life - had you been lamenting for the other, its time to put an end to their lies ; had you been breaking for the fact that, " you loved him a little more than yourself ", then it's time to realize how to love truly, and that is to love yourself before you love anyone else ;  had you been stringing on the thread of guilt, for you've been defending a love that did not prioritize you in anything at all, it's time to destroy the way pain kept crawling back into the dark corners of your mind. 

    / I'd rather walk away for the moments to come than stay for the memories to repeat in waves of woes /

    Even though with this moment, a part of life dies way before real death, rest of the life can grow in to fill the void left by the cursed ninth symphony of heartbreak. You're not chained to omens and oracles, let alone empty promises of fake love. 

    All that matters is that, this moment will eventually leave, die down the thorns of pricking past and uproot those heartache blooms away. It's never the end of the story you're living, so what if a chapter ends here killing a life ? Turn a page and touch another life ! 

    // Remember, If you survive this moment, you can win anything in life. In the hourglass of life, this moment of heartache is a mere filmstrip of nightmare in a camera bag, a lone girl left for a familiar song of epiphany //


  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 11w

    #start #chainverse #ak_prose

    All Rights Reserved
    13 Sept 2021 3.09 pm

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    ❀// From Fairytale to Fairytale

    I wrote a fairytale on the bosom of spring, with the quill of dreams which drank the ink of instincts
    Infinity was a cwtch of time that unfurled from the tip of my quill and my ink baptized the papyrus into eternity
    Unbeknownst to me fate was already in motion to meddle with my tryst and misery was a merciless trespasser 

    ...and time was a master magician who wilted my tales till the tan leaves wept...

    When the leaves turn brown, a saffron gown sank down, painfully enwrapping the palette of plots
    It encapsulated verdant of vision as well as the engrossed verses I so meticulously weaved on the fabric of fantasy
    The parade of seasons were a trim of sandpaper on my fragile heart and within no time, my frail persona metamorphosed into a masquerade grail of poet

    ...and it ensued the beginning of a sail with unforeseen thrills...

    The day her ship sank in the ocean of expectations, her dreams drowned in warbling waves, choking on bubbles of hope
    It was the same day the sailor in her was reborn, the one who swore to always swim until the shore of serenity was nigh
    She kept on striving and swimming till the twilight drowned another sun of her desires and plunged her into muted void

    ...and she belatedly realized how the chaos ceased the music...

    When the music dies moonlight will guide the echoes strung on notations, leading the harmony in the silent hours of night until it reaches the pinnacle of sight, and the crescendo fades into the purpose of plight
    When passion rises, stringing all the voices of vague and ventures, time recited her verses polished by seasons and reasons, as a tale of tranquility

    ...she who fought with the tides of time is now a fairytale herself...


  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 11w

    #once #slovec #purplefambdays #sunshine_bday #ak_prose

    All Rights Reserved
    9 Sept 2021 5.55 pm

    Happy Birthday My SUNSHINE @thesunshineloves ☀️��
    / I want you to be your light, baby
    You should be your light /
    This is for you ��

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    Once when I was young, I captured the s u n b e a m s of early dawns with my iris. My rose bud heart filtered it to zealous
    z e s t of summer sun. My mystic mind would soar to the skies of azure while clouds sang lullabies adoring my dreams. My love was a crystal ball refracting vibgyor vigour and vibing to violin chords. My heart was a sanctum of solace, and my body an atelier of springfield. L o v e was the only scent the monsoon rains could leave behind. Even the autumn fall was a cloak of care, a renaissance in red. My first footprints adorned December snowfalls and few crocus petals chimed with the freezing breeze and prayer bells. Love was a softglow of a corner candle burning in the center of my world. 

    It took umpteen clouds and infinite sand grains to hide the sun from me. To nudge me in the dark with a twig of thunder and a flash of lightning. But I've sealed the  a p r i c i t y within me to shower myself with an everglow of my own sunshine. The one in my heart that never fades at twilight or sinks in sea tides.

    Love isn't soft, now that the heartbreaks are meteors falling from the sky of d e c e i t, which neither had a sun nor a moon to torch some sense upon the hearts. I've listened to the drumroll of stonehearts that never had a softedge of care or emblems of empathy. I've seen eyes that bear more gloom than tombstones could hold. I've felt the surface of sin carved with drought and dread. 

    And all I know at this point of teasing time is that, no hate can touch a heart of light, no sun can leave a heart of s u n s h i n e, no dread can stay in a heart that believes in dreams. For I'm still a child at heart, who holds a touch of love and gleam of light, deep within my heart. 

    // Cause I've been in love 
    With the l i g h t s
    Since my first sunrise //


  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 12w

    #postcard #septemberc #ak_months #ak_prose

    All Rights Reserved
    6 Sept 2021 11.11 am

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    September is a sojourner
    Silent spectator of sustenance

    • • •

    Beloved September, 

    You're the silver of silence succeeding saffron seedtime, before golden autumn withers recite balladry of blackberry winter. Your air misty with the sillage of spring and susurrant verdant welcoming autumn overboard. You lean softly on the shoulders of a trunk dreaming, 'whenst the blanket of flowerets would embrace once again' and whistle rhymes and riddles to lissome lilies. Your gracious glow blessing aster and morning-glory, amorous and adoring myriad hearts. You painted a pink sky on the easel of eternity, luminous with dreaming stars and bewitching moon. You gave love to whatsoever have been left to you, harvested halcyon stakes and delivered as much as my dreams promised. You lend me, a poet lost in ties and lies, warmth to stretch until the routine of galestorms sing encore. You're an interlude to the darting needles and diving dates, a space for soaring wishes to glide and land on glitter. You are a sapphire solace, so in tryst with purity and loyalty that, any evil that lurks betwixt the shadows of your sun and moon would perish, as you're the guard of glory.
    You don't know my skills yet but you thrust this sword of victory in my hands, likewise I don't know my purpose yet but I'd honour your trust in me with my life.

    / Would you aliven my stillborn verses with a pinch of your immortal aether 
    Or would you forget them in the grave of foreshadowing demise /

    Yours eternally grateful
    A Forget-me-not Fairy

  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 13w

    #rhetoric #heartflowerc
    All Rights Reserved
    29 Aug 2021 1.25 pm
    #ak_wn_repost #ak_prose

    Diary of Despair ~

    / Was the night cursed or was it me who failed ? /

    Drowning dawn
    Of a chained night
    In the month of freedom

    The pile of memories that once belonged to a cursed autumn that overtook the order of seasons to succeed the summer and deny the spring, lay as a huge heap of dried leaves. Rain of my heart poured over, wetting my pillows and this unfortunate pile. It stinks of saffron puddles, blood that dropped from my hands when he held my hands on the thorns to utter fake promises. It stinks of sweat and tired mess, breathless when I raced to the roof tops to talk to him, hiding from what's real to chase a wornout fantasy. It stinks of lies, when lexicons were maimed and truth was betrayed for the sake of a more attractive fortune.
    And I know I'm responsible for watering the fallen season of love as a routine, my own tears drenching it to the core. If only I could let it go and leave it to dry under the rays of hope, that of an optimistic sun, unrealistically impossible though, maybe it'd crumble under the wrath of the westwind-shaped Time. Maybe the power of a ruthless fate would shatter the mass of mess into crushed carcasses, leaving behind mere dust. But aren't we all mere dust that embraces desire onto themselves untill the end of life ?
    Yes we are, but not me. My hopes have turned into haunting tropes. My faith is fighting fate. My destiny is despair-drowned tinny. So I've the lost the desire to live. Somewhere along this journey, I've lost my mind in the city of pity, followed by shadows of insanity.
    For someone who has lost all sparks of shine, for someone whitened by sorrow, withering by morrow, I've still got some leftover life to breathe. And I could never understand why or how I can still be a blossom regardless of these draining curses. Maybe my heart is a wildflower that still blooms from the cracks of scars adorning them.
    I'm a ghost flower thriving in a graveyard of memories, paler than Selene with a heart shooting across the sky of dreams.

    // Maybe............. It's time
    To rise from the dust and dance till our death //

    Crumbles of carcasses
    That once beheld courage in every cell


    OMG thank you so much for Repost ���� @writersnetwork Very glad, this was a special post ��

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    Was the night cursed
    Or was it me who failed?

    Aren't we all mere dust that embraces desire onto themselves untill the end of life ?

    Aren't we all learning to fly with broken wings on fire ?
    Aren't we all breathing a pinch of hope while still stuck in a stinking stoep ?
    Aren't we all abandoned verses of a poet who never had an epiphany to express himself to the world, to his love ?
    Aren't we all stars that wished to fall in love with the planets but couldn't land but fall deeper into their own death ?
    Aren't we all dancing in a dream while masquerading in reality ?
    Aren't we all insane for fighting ourselves despite we are freely given access to it, the chance to love ?
    Aren't we all broken pieces of an unfortunate mirror who couldn't foresee anything but malign in a miserable future ?

    Maybe we are all the sun, moon and the stars
    Maybe we are all the blooms in the valley of life
    Or maybe we are all rocks in the cliff of death

    Crumbles of carcasses that once beheld courage in every cell

    Maybe it's time to rise from the dust and dance till our death


  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 15w

    #start #anxiety ruined my life ��

    All Rights Reserved
    17 Aug 2021 5.40 pm

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    ~ Anxiety ~

    My anxiety sits in a corner of a chaotic cavern, disgruntled and demeaned. It wards of any warm light intended to help, just clinging on to the pain-pricked fears that waltz with the dark shadows as if they're long-lost twins. 
    I've lost all delights gleaming on the shallow surface, straightaway diving into the depth of grief. All those corals of relief, seashells of secrecy, pearls of poesy, I'm losing all that to a whirlpool of anxious whims. Drowning mermaids and serenading sirens, inviting cacophony on bills of regrets. 
    Swaying to the acapella of angst, I've failed my footsteps of fancy and instead reached the abode of aversion.
    Hatred is a foggy mist on my hourglass and I've lost the track of time while plotting revenge on the shrieking shadows. 

    // Time is not just a ticking clock
    It's a timeless memory lock //

    Where my moments of bliss got locked, tortured and tainted. They scream to let go, release them home. And I weave my every breath in hopes of adorning a garland of glee but all I could make is a choker of chagrin, where my metaphors lament like cicadas in melancholic nights. 
    I've watched them grow into the sunshade of dread, a mysterious marvel of haunting symphony.
    Addictive nonetheless.
    All emotions in extremes have now pushed me into this cavern promising of false safety, 
    cocooning me in a blanket of disgrace. 

    // I'm still clutching to forlorn hope
    As I hide myself more into this slope //

    ~ If not for the foreshadowing anxiety
        I would have trailed any ray of sunshine ~
      .......but alas ! fear snatched me from freedom .......
    ______i can only hope to disappear______


  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 17w

    #writingcontest #contest #creativearena #ak_prose

    2 Aug 2021 10.10 am
    Coz I love sunflowers ��
    Sunflower trying to convince her kid to not feel inferior

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    You're a baby sunflower. You were never meant to be red like a rose or fragrant like a jasmine. You were supposed to be yellow, facing the sun and pacing the light. You are meant to brighten up the world with your golden shine and charming aura. You'd learn to trail the path of the magnificent sun throughout the time singing an ode to love, an aubade to aurora. You'd adorn yourself with the yellow hues of yearning. You'd become an eternal light of loyalty, an everlasting symbol of hope. 

    ~ | Now wipe your frown and wear your crown
    Let the world learn to smile from sunflowers |


  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 18w

    #journal#wod #pod #3amc
    All Rights Reserved
    23 July 2021 1.55 pm
    #alliteration #ak_alliterations #ak_prose

    22nd Winter Waning
    31st Snowflake Melted
    16th Hour Draining

    Still miles to go before I sleep ~
    ~ a poet lost in autumns of past

    When it's 3 am and you can't sleep because past keep playing like a broken record in your mind, hues of crimson heartbreaks keep swirling in your veins, keeping you up all night, ears straining to accept the mysterious symphony of silence and eyes boaring into burning charcoal flames over the night sky...all you wish is to screech aloud into the dark entity consuming the world - like a cicadas in crisis.

    Snowflower, do you remember ? You were once a nightingale enchanting Aurora and serenading Selene. You were the only voice of hope while light slowly slips into waves of time. Your songs bewitched blossom buds to awake and dance, smiling into the zephyr. Your echoes waltzed through the giggling and glistening spring stream. 

    // When did the dark shadow trap your whimsical wings ? When did the nightmares embrace your serene silhouettes ? When did your hopeblooms wilt and wither into the awaiting tenebrous terrains ? //

    Today, the past froze the almighty time, as I sweeped the cobwebs in my secret shelf. Timestamps on letters felt like tombstones on the graveyard of memories. My words were covered in pastel shades of pain. Lilac daydreams, creamy hope, lemon yellow worries, grass-green glee, baby blue wishes, rosy reveries, sandalwood secrets, orange lily desires we're all riding the turquoise tranquil waves. 

    And those pictures, stolen life in still sceneries. You were embraced by thirty shades of love, holding hands with sixty-six sunflowers, smiling with forty clovers and kissing twelve full moons. The galaxy was glittering while you were in slumber on shooting stars. You've wished upon a field on dandelions in a forlorn forest and have danced in the rain to the beat of euphoria.

    Your verses still glow in this dark days like firefly in the night, still scent the petrichor of past rain. And these journals are waiting for you to adorn their  ivory sleeves with maroon metaphors and scarlet similes. 

    You're not a cicadas in chaos, you're not a cypress trailing cacophony, you're not a cyclone destroying love.
    You're a blue Iris of benevolence, a demure dandelion of daydreams, a delightful dahlia of forelsket, a mesmerizing magnolia of meraki.
    You're a timeless nightingale with charming wings of change.

    | You're a poet... a pure one in that
    Neither you have a rebirth of cicadas
    Nor an afterlife of cherry blossom
    All you have is this life, all you ever need is now
    Pen all you want to, let passion burn all your pain |

    I loved you, love you and will always love you ~
    ~ a poet seeking hiraeth in halcyon days


    Thank you so much for EC ��

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    Your verses still glow in this dark days like firefly in the night, still scent the petrichor of past rain. And these journals are waiting for you to adorn their  ivory sleeves with maroon metaphors and scarlet similes. 

    You're not a cicadas in chaos
    You're not a cypress trailing cacophony
    You're not a cyclone destroying love

    You're a blue Iris of benevolence
    A demure dandelion of daydreams
    A delightful dahlia of forelsket
    A mesmerizing magnolia of meraki

    You're a timeless nightingale with charming wings of change

    | You're a poet... a pure one in that
    Neither you have a rebirth of cicadas
    Nor an afterlife of cherry blossom
    All you have is this life, all you ever need is now
    Pen all you want to, let passion burn all your pain |


  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 19w

    #start #wod #pod #ak_prose
    All Rights Reserved
    21 July 2021 1.50 pm

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    Your name rests between my lips like a prayer, I chant it relentlessly as crimson drips from the burning sunset. Your image flashing in my mind like a vision, I close my eyes and fall deep into the dark waves chasing the streak of your halo. Your thoughts like tides swaying my fragile limbs, I flap my arms and legs, disoriented yet determined to swim to your abode. The way I dived into the ocean of uncertainty as if it's the only chance I have, to escape the erratic heartache bullets aimed at me by the raging red empyrean. And it was as if I've reached the altar of love when my feet touched the ocean bed. Another mystery why I was breathless in the all-questioning land of lunacy but deeper in this all-consuming world underneath, I find the choking chaos calming. 

    ~ Everytime I chant your name, hope trails the track of trachea, filling my longing lungs with a gust of ' l o v e ' //

    You are like the wind, nowhere in sight and yet so crucial for my mere existence as a windmill in the droughtland of abandoned dreams. As you race with wings of time, striking twelve chords while swiveling through peaks and valleys, waltzing over tides and terrains, your force enchants my blades to rotate in the whirling world of fantasies. The dreamcatchers in my dull mind chase the direction of your route, mesmerized by the gimmicks and galore you create in your path. Have I ever told you how your caresses awakens a purpose within me and how much you tether my lone-kite heart, giving me taste of unbounded freedom.

    ~ Your carass is the only cure that can awaken the carcass I've become in the catastrophic flames of ' f o r b i d d a n c e ' //

    I gulped the night and chewed your fragrance suffocating this ethereal night sky. Waterlilies adorn the fantasy pools in my twin orbs as I worship the crescent moon, waxing and waning, pulling my entire existence with your crystalline shine. I quaffed the nightmares and puked heartbreak verses on the mangata floating on the magical river of remembrance. Mystic melancholy turned my languorous lexicons into night jasmines that rival the sparkle of the cavalry of your stars. 

    ~ I devour nights and delight in the sour and savoury flavour of unpredictable poignancy, all in the wink of the chime hour in lieu of the routine mimicking ' d e a t h ' //

    I would rather weave poems with your leftover memories than starving my mind for the sake of a sanity unguaranteed. Promises have turned stale and words have become a weapon poisoning my hunger rather than a cure to my aches. Still I would choose surrendering to your temptations rather than leaving this land of daydreams forever. The secret of sorcery discloses as the witching hour arises and the entirety of this world is torn between the departure of the cold dusk and the arrival of a fresh dawn. I'm lost in the tinsel towers of tangerine sky, high on memories.

    ~ I weaved a wreath of wisterias for the wretched dusk and the dawn named it ' p o e t r y ' //

    Mornings bring endless battlefields and infinite challenges to every life blessed to be alive for another day at the least. Dying out candlesticks await to exchange flames to those hitherto unaware of the existence of hope. Little do they know Aurora is summoned by multiple flames of faith. She's not a coincidence, she's the only incident. By far the ticking time might have been able to play puppeteer with your fears but light beats every traces of shadowing doubts and sparks every nuances of life. Meanwhile my spotless mind is marvelling at the eternal sunshine of your love.

    ~ I waited by the curb of the morning ready to face any storm or every stone thrown at me rather than waging another war and regardless of the results, I count that as a 'w i n '  // 


  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 19w

    @miraquill @writersnetwork #miraquill #writernetwork
    #poverty #wod #pod #ak_prose

    All Rights Reserved
    16 July 2021 12.40 pm

    Oneshot / trial ^_^

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    / Poverty is incurable 
    If it has affected the heart /

     A stale sandwich it was but sizable for the starving stomach. It bloomed a smile on dry lips, parched tongue eager to lap the leftovers of the busiest restaurant. The boy waited patiently behind the backdoor. As soon as the chef brought the packets, he received it thankfully. There was two pieces inside, diagonally cut yet mere digestible. 


    On the other side, a cellphone rang continuously. The owner paid no attention while chewing on french fries, chicken bucket full of bones and still ordering more. He took a gulp of cola and finally received the call, " Stop bothering me Mark, I'm very busy now. Why are you calling me after office time? "


    " I told you, I know what'll happen. It's his only way of income right ? Let's push him to the streets. And don't mind informing him beforehand. What's the fun in that ? "


    " Yeah let him run for his life. I'll wave at him from my car when he settle under a lamppost." 

    A terrible laughter ensued. He paid the bill and tip, then exited to find his car with a frown. He crumpled and threw the bill at the trashcan in the parking lot, frown never leaving his face.


    Nearby the boy ate his share of sandwich and gave the other share to an old man on the corner of the subway. 

    " Grandpa Tom, here's a sandwich for you ! "

    " Steve, you shouldn't have. I'm not hungry. "

    " It's okay. I'm sure I'll get the job in the store tomorrow. Then I'll definitely be able to buy you something better. "

    " But you need more energy for that. I'm just going to sit here all day."

    " I got coffee and snacks from Aunt Maria. I'm full now. "

    " Oh I didn't see her today. She might have come when I was napping. Did she say something to you ?"

    " Ahaa ! She said she'll be able to open the food truck in a week. "

    " I hope she find someone to drive it around soon. There are many hungry souls around the block. "


    And like that they munched on the meagre meal, hoping for a better tomorrow. Grandpa Tom was a record keeper,
    abandoned by his son and family because they didn't want to pay for his medical bills anymore. He runs a second-hand book sale near the park and sleeps in the subway. He lends books to students for free, they'd still pay him by parcels and teas. 

    Steve is a highschool dropout, runaway from his home due to abusive and alcoholic parents. Grandpa Tom had found him, crying in the bus station and brought him a meal from the coffee shop behind. He also met Aunt Maria in that shop. She cooks and cleans there all day, she has a little girl Mia, in kindergarten. Her dream is to open a food truck and be independent. Also to be able to feed poor people in the city.


    Little did they know, they're gonna find a driver for the food truck pretty soon, someone is going to lose their job. 

    Alex will wake up tomorrow to the worst day of his life. Run late to office and find an envelope with a bad news - f i r e d... He'll be heartbroken, he'll try to get the job back. But he won't. He'll drink away his pain in the evening and pass out in the streets just to meet Grandpa Tom later.

    How lucky he is... To be away from those poor things finally and find these rich hearts !! How blessed he is to find a family... Little Mia always prayed to have a dad along with her mommy, grandpa and Stevie. 

    The End.

    // They don't deserve a name, ego bags with a ticking stone, caged in boasting bones

    Names are remembered by deeds, how rich their heart is and how they're a home to others, even after being lost and abandoned... //


  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 20w

    @miraquill @writersnetwork #miraquill #writersnetwork
    #paradox #combination #wod #pod #ak_wn_repost
    #poetry #haiku #etheree #quote #prose #ak_etheree
    #alliteration #ak_alliterations #ak_prose

    All Rights Reserved
    10 July 2021 12.22 pm

    Poetry - freeverse
    Haiku - 5 7 5 syllables
    Etheree - 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 syllables
    Quote - Begins & Ends in Paradox
    Prose - Used phrases by Emily Dickinson in quotation ('')

    Paradoxes - Used in subtitles as well as within prose ^_^
    All subtitles are paradoxes. Count how many ? =_=

    Thank you so much for Repost & EC@writersnetwork����

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    Paradoxical Phantasm

     / Beginning of the End /    ~ Poetry

    As early as the buds of creation were born
    Fight and fall,  wilt and wither has begun

    Aurora wakes knowing sunset awaits her
    Dawn break daunt not, but dashes to dusk

    Selene rises to shine and fade away to light
    Mangata meandering like a film out fantasy

    Wall-clocks rotate to meet the same mark again
    Sandgrains in the hourglass fall back to back

    Destiny of a voyage around the world is beginning 
    Startline becomes the end line, a worn but worthy ending

    • • •

    / Deep down, minds are really shallow /   ~ Haiku

    Diving in doldrums
    Desires dread while digging deep 
    Deathbeds quake daunting

    Sowing and reaping
    Solemn solace sprouts and soars 
    Surge and slip shallow 

    • • •

    / Dearth deflate not even while abundance advances /          ~ Etheree

    Not, Notion 
    Nullifies as
    All progress backtracks
    When demand and supply
    Plays hide-and-seek in both the
    Economy & ecosystem
    Scarcity parallels sustenance
    Abundance advances yet aches augment

    • • •

    / I know one thing, that I know nothing /    ~ Quote 

    Human are the best examples of paradoxes as humanity has become a parade of cruelty masquerading kindness. In an era where masks of phantasm parade, I'm a joker who painted smiles on my Scarface but not to deceit, just to delight so my despair never shows up. I don't own a mask of malign. But I know one thing for sure, that I know nothing with surety. 

    • • •

    / I'm nobody /      ~ Prose 

    Reality is an illusion, I murmur to the mirror as mellow moonlight sews a fantasy in my mind with the threads of nightmarish nylon. Past is a phantom choking my present, uncooked future already burnt. 'I taste a liquor never brewed' with a pinch of truth, a salty sugar. It boils in a cup of loyalty shaded lies leaving a bittersweet aftertaste on my tongue. 

    'Wild nights - wild nights !' Wildest of whimsical winds blowing whiplash at me while my wayfarer mind is way out of grasp. What dazzles over my silhouette is mangata of a fallen moon. 

    Life makes no sense while my soul is hanging upside down anytime to drop at the edge of a cliff of insanity. 'I felt a funeral in my brain' as soon as death bloomed within my lungs and my breath sensed the incense burning at the afterlife - I felt the flames of hellfire while burning alive to ashes. 

    While munching on the dessert of dread, I realize that my soul is still starving for another sip of melancholic wine. Old and ominous, preserved in poignant past.
    High on halcyon hues, soliloquies of my soul echo in the reflection - 'I'm nobody ! Who are you ?'


  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 20w

    @miraquill @writersnetwork #miraquill #writersnetwork
    #imagery #childhood #wod #pod #letter
    #ak_wn_repost #ak_prose

    All rights reserved
    8 July 2021 9. 10 am

    Pyrrhic Victory / A Letter ~

    To cradles n' cackles

    I remember not, the soft panels of a baby blue cradle swinging an infant me to the subtle beats of lullabies. I remember not, the plush blankets and warm bosom that wrapped me with the heat of purest love. I remember not, the honey sweet spoonful of sugar treats and banana milk bottles that fed me to my heart full.
    But I remember swaying on the wings of treacherous time and lolling to the beat of ticking clocks. I remember cold blankets that left me to froze and armed hands that pushed me off the cliff, a tainted love. I remember sour secrets and bitter truths that emptied my mind to starve on the lonely streets of hunger.

    On the charcoal footpath, I'm a lonely layman wandering in pursuit of a purpose. While my eyes scout for vision of light amidst the stygian blues, all that I descry are despair stenched scenarios, which makes me yearn for bygone days of buoyance and benevolence. While my ears hunt for soothing symphonies amongst the cacophonous commotion around, all I that I discern are desperate wails and sinful sirens, which makes me long for former fundays of melodies and mermaid fantasies.

    Foraging for resplendent rainbows of once lovin' summer, I've found saffron sacrifices, beguiling blues, gruesome greys, blinding blacks and raging red. I fail to figure out the map of my soul while the pathway is adorned in bloodsplotches and graffitied horror. Creamy white lilies, pink candy floss, light blue paperplanes, lilac skies with purple balloons are all glossy memories in my melancholic mind.

    A lifetime of Aurora and Selene switching the altar in my empyrean, I have shed my skin a million times a mile to grace my reflection pure yet the years drizzle doubt and dust on me, intent to taint. Star-dust don't shine in mere existence but in life. Silhouette don't glow in insisted stillness but persistent motion. I run, I walk, I crawl, whatever to keep moving to my destiny, even though my destination is vague.

    One by one, each day shaped my coffin in making and every heartbreak was a nail in store for the inevitable end. Each sunrise was a half sipped coffee to boost whatever desires left in me and each sunset was a mouthful of poisonous wine I quaffed to withstand the nightmarish puppet play of the darkness.

    I'm fed up with the hide-and-seek and fallout farcries evolving and echoing intermittently. Wrinkles on my skin are braille of wreckage and grey roots on my hairlocks are folklores of fallen. The candelabra lighting throughout my scenery have run-out of source, I'm left with numbered candles burning overnight. And I'll burn it until I pen down all my aches into epics, blues into ballads and sorrows into sonnets.

    I wish to have a glimpse of my once serene smile
    I wish to have a touch of my once velvet bones
    Someday if I could meet the happiest version of myself,
    It'd be you - my inner child
    A four-leaved clover long-lost in the phantasmagoric verdant of life
    Somehow maturing to adulthood turned out to be
    a Pyrrhic victory
    Leaving my heart as hollow as the outcome of it,
    an incurable void

    From candles n' caskets


    Thank you so much for Repost and EC @writersnetwork

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    Pyrrhic Victory

    A Letter

    To cradles n' cackles
    From candles n' caskets

    I wish to have a glimpse of my once serene smile
    I wish to have a touch of my once velvet bones
    Someday if I could meet the happiest version of myself
    It'd be you - my inner child
    A four-leaved clover long-lost
    In the phantasmagoric verdant of life
    Somehow maturing to adulthood
    Turned out to be a Pyrrhic victory
    Leaving my heart as hollow as
    The outcome of it, an incurable void


  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 21w

    @miraquill @writersnetwork #miraquill #writersnetwork
    #combination #wod #pod #prose #sonnet #creative
    #ak_sonnets #childhood #ak_prose

    All Rights Reserved
    5 July 2021 1.11 pm

    [ The floor seemed wonderfully solid. It was comforting to know I had fallen and could fall no farther.
    -Sylvia Plath, ' The Bell Jar ' ]
    Yesterdays + Today's challenge - all words and phrases

    /Prose + Sonnet

    Sanity's Sail ~

    Something was strange today. The cold breeze brushing past my face had numbed my senses and the scent of a distant lover unsettled my inner storm. The floor beneath my feet seemed like lava lapping my console and the ceiling above my head seemed like concrete contempt.

    Mystic mist of misfortune that awoke my slumbering peace and swallowed my sanity fogs the entirety of my abode. Mirth metamorphosed into Sword of Damocles hanging over my head. Mysterious melancholia permeates the peace in solitude and horrors are haunting the hallways afront.

    What have I done for the fate to forbid my future in lieu of fortune ?

    I pressed my love inside an old journal
    And let my pen trail my true emotions
    Frozen flowerets breathe on prose curtal
    Mind, a kite trailing the wind of notions

    I cradle my broken childhood in lieu
    Holistic livelihood in denial
    Miserable moments array in queue
    Butchered trust in the grips of betrayal

    I wrapped my heart in paperplanes of past
    Embossed with morse code, morsels of musings
    Apple to my aching soul, ale aghast
    Whimsical wild wings worn, wierd cravings

    Sufferings are soft taps of life before
    Wreckage floods, swallowing peace in mind shore

    Inside the chamber of chagrin, I etch my pain on papyrus petals and mould them into beguiling blossoms. Crystal tears cascading from obsidian orbs form constellations that shine in the sunken sky of daydreams.

    Unbeknownst to me, prophecies echoed in the empyrean,

    " The stars in your eyes shall live longer than history
    For they hold scars ablaze with fire of will and
    The storm and thunder stirring inside your heart
    Shall conquer all worlds waging wars against each other
    For they rain renaissance and worship worth in words "

    Something was strange today. The Zephyr that woke my slumber have resolved my penance and the golden silence I envisioned have settled my inner storm. The floor beneath my feet seemed wonderfully solid and the ceiling above my head seemed miraculously métier. It was comforting to know I had fallen and could fall no farther. All there's left for me is to arise from these forlorn flames.


    Thank you so much for EC ����

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    Sanity's Sail

    " The stars in your eyes shall live longer than history
    For they hold scars ablaze with fire of will and
    The storm and thunder stirring inside your heart
    Shall conquer all worlds waging wars against each other
    For they rain renaissance and worship worth in words "


  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 22w

    @miraquill @writersnetwork #miraquill #writersnetwork
    #firstperson #wod #pod #ak_prose

    All rights reserved
    28 June 2021 1.53 pm

    Abandoned Atelier ~

    I'm an abandoned building with few birds visiting me after sunset. When tangerine hues give way to tints pitch black, they find a holy hiraeth in the dark lonely hallways I keep open for welcoming the wrestling wind. They nestle in my hidden corners where some memories slumber awaiting revival.

    Sometimes shadows wander through the stairways seeking a glimpse of light that would grant them entry to the other side, but are heaving with the weight of unreaped repentance, which drag their footsteps.

    Sometimes my walls wish the caress of lively hands, to give a shoulder to lean to for weary wanderers. Sometimes my floors long for forlorn footsteps of rushing crowds, every step determined with purpose. Sometimes the air in my chest ache for the breath of life, the broken window panels eager to catch the echo of cackle and laughter and the unhinged doors wait to receive guests with a gleaming smile. But they all foreshadowed by haunting clouds accompanied by thunderstorms instead of halo lights and moonbeams.

    Even though abandoned I often have visitors, some cherished and some cursed. Sometimes kids enter through the front door to search for lost cricket ball and other times youngsters gather to drink and smoke. With helpless walls of concrete heart, I pray for the kids to not lose their way and flee away from here although I preserve their precious footprints as souvenirs. At the same time I'm disgusted by the pungent smell of alcohol and smoke that fogs around, watching with disgust as these youngsters burn away a part of their lives.

    What invokes my wrath is the cries of weak and worn out victims, some traitors and heartless huntsmen prey on while they make sure no soul in the outside world knows what's happening. It is then that I regret being far away from the commotion and crowds, the forests and lakes here don't leak far cries. My walls have eyes and ears that bear the pain of ruthless rage, some rooms tainted with pools of blood and scars of scratches. There are lives that breathed their last within me. Some on their own and some others plotted by psychopaths. Whatever the reason, I never forgive these scars inside, I've captured moments of pain that I rewind to haunt those madmen, my way of revenge.

    Then comes those curious and crazy souls, some with mics and cameras, some others with diaries to spill despair tasting the void slicing silence and lamenting on lost ways and past loves. One day they came, two hearts holding hands together, the weight of the world against them crashing their souls yet boosting their resolve. They spend a night here, warm around a bonfire drinking love, pain and each other and at last when dawn was a breeze away they took a sip from the cup of life a mouthful of death and sealed the deal with a searing kiss. The image of their tangled limbs frozen in last embrace still flashes in the lightning.

    Even after withstanding monsoons of decades, neither those sins wash away nor the memories fade. They stay haunted in the Polaroids in a Pandora's box that a plaguing past treasures.

    I'm an abandoned building with
    few birds visiting me after sunset
    far cries echoing around in nights and
    fallen souls haunting throughout time

    I'm an abandoned atelier where in
    wilted blooms and withered buds
    wail aloud and wait alone for rescue
    wondering about immortal pain and
    wishing for closure, remedy amidst ruin


    Read More

    Abandoned Atelier

    I'm an abandoned building with
    few birds visiting me after sunset
    far cries echoing around in nights and
    fallen souls haunting throughout time

    I'm an abandoned atelier where in
    wilted blooms and withered buds
    wail aloud and wait alone for rescue
    wondering about immortal pain and
    wishing for closure, remedy amidst ruin


  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 22w

    @miraquill @writersnetwork #miraquill #writersnetwork
    #storytime #wod #pod #temporary #ak_prose
    Vante is...♡

    All rights reserved
    25 June 2021 8. 25 pm

    Longings & Belongings

    This lake reminds me of Vante, his blue ocean eyes and the sparkle in them whenever he would sit by this lake. I feel him here more than anywhere else. He could gaze at these ripples for hours, trying to find himself in the gushing waves, and still never get enough of it.

    He was a vagabond in pursuit of an echo that tempted his psyche to fall for the riddles of these ripples. A melancholy metamorphosed butterfly, an ephemeral life with sempiternal soul dipped in vivid hues and nuances vibrant caught his vision and led him astray of his path. The strings of temptation had such strong pull, he was dragged to the very edge of this lake. A hauntingly eerie lake.

    Seeking for the root of all his contempt, he could only find his own reflection staring back at him. And he fell into reveries as sand grains dripped down the hourglass. Golden sunrays of love spotlighting him as he is wrapped in his mother's lap, he's fed rice balls by his grandma, he's taken to school by his father.

    Florets of spring days blooming as he's playing with his friends, smiling and laughing, singing and dancing, traveling and making memories. Then petals falling down in pouring rain as his first love held another's hands, he felt the Petrichor had the scent of longing and belonging intertwined together.

    Slowly but surely dried leaves died as his mother's hands doesn't hold his anymore, his father's footsteps smudged on the path of life and he can no longer remember his grandma's face. Strong winter gale disrupted the only delight left in his life, that day he rushed outside his home, hands bloody and shivering, heart in his throat as the cops dragged his father's body out and moved his sister to a shelter, and him on watch out accused for murder.

    Sleep couldn't caress his teary eyes as he slept under the bridge, unable to call even his friends or a stranger to help at least. He could only see the image of his father lashing his sister Everytime he close his eyes, and he swears he would stab that man again and again, without repentance. But what he regrets is not realizing it before everything escalated at home, he couldn't imagine his sister choking on tears by the whips while he was out having fun with his friends.

    He found himself in a rusted cage of iron rods with rights and wrongs criss- crossing and entrapping him within it. Did he fail in life or did life fail him ? When did everything go wrong ? Why waves of fate dragged the land under his feet and left him broken beyond on the sweltering shore of sins.

    Lake showed him his own image, smirking and bloodied, hands cuffed and chained. Is he a sinner now ? Is there no solution to his agony ?
    Autumn leaves of memories swept by time winds, tears of longings rained on waves, and a broken heart drowned into unfathomable depth of the lake.

    And then he dipped his long hands in the lake, erasing his reflection and a small pool in his palms showed him his mother's smile, a moment of peace among all the chaos and he knew he has found a way out of his misery.

    He leaned into the ripples, to become one with the chaos flowing endlessly. He took a last breath of air and leaped into the waves of despair. Somehow he found solace at the end of lost breath in the depth where daylight could never reach. His limbs did hardly thrash as he swayed in the heart of waves. Blinking eyes resting and last tears escaping into the shell of time, a pearl of broken heart.

    He's now a wave in pursuit of the ocean
    Tranquility at the tunnel-end of turmoil
    Having left a smeraldo blooming alone
    At the edge of the lake, where he sat
    In remembrance of his truth untold,
    His blue eyes shining on white petals

    I feel him here more than anywhere else, his smile in the lone blossom and his laughter in the flowing lake, blues of belonging surfing on waves, pulling my heart into the depths within.

    Should I too, lean in to the waves to be with the one love
    I couldn't confess to ?


    Read More

    Longings & Belongings

    He's now a wave in pursuit of the ocean
    Tranquility at the tunnel-end of turmoil
    Having left a smeraldo blooming alone
    At the edge of the lake, where he sat
    In remembrance of his truth untold,
    His blue eyes shining on white petals


  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 23w

    @miraquill @writersnetwork #miraquill #writersnetwork
    #monologue #wod #pod #wov6 #nonet #ak_wov
    I'll write only for my Manz^_^

    #ak_wn_repost #ak_prose

    All written rights reserved
    19 June 2021 8.45 pm

    Ephemeral Life ~

    Taetae you know, people leave but places don't. They exist holding back all the memories, fragrances and emotions. Walking down the lane of memories, reminiscence stirs waves of wanderlust as you recollect the fragrance of cherry blossoms you inhaled in the streets of Yoshino, drinking sake` under the trees with your loved ones, holding their hands as petals shower from above. And all these pastel pink cotton clouds recite is how ephemeral life is. Close your eyes and you can feel the silky soft petals of sakura swirling in the zephyr and showering you in a scent so serene and suddenly you're not in your living room staring at the white wall but sitting under the tree, basking in the tangerine hues of evening sun, mind sailing along the tranquil ripples of the lapping lake aside, soul brimming in solace - serendipity of sakura season

    Sipping on your cold coffee, you walk the lit up streets near the London bridge with a black backpack and a brown shaded camera. Among the crowds cuddling and cackling, immersing themselves in festivities, someone catches your eye, a person who feels like personification of light. Radiating sunshine rays and redolence of red rose. Their scent attracts as well as calms you, tempts you to lean towards the source of the aura, an anonymous Aurora. When they leave with the crowd at last, you're left with scintillating sensations, a serenading scenery, a seraphic story and a soulful song that your soul will rewind... again and again...

    When you open your eyes, you'll wonder how these places are still alive in the sunshade corner of your mind. And you'll realize how much you miss a person you don't know, who feels like poetry to your soul.

    When love kicks open the doors of your heart
    Know that, you're already a poet, worshipping art
    Bringing back places that hold memories, fragrances and emotions
    Penning proses and poesies to relive the euphoria of meeting someone special

    People leave, but places don't, likewise
    Poets leave, but poetries don't
    They're alive breathing, blooming
    Zephyr swirl lexicons
    Blue metaphors bloom
    White light rhymes shine
    Pink clouds pause
    Words heal

    Scents stored and felt sensibilities
    Sense fond and suppository fantasies
    Former makes scenery eternal
    Latter makes syllables immortal


    AH (◕ᴗ◕✿)❤ Thank you so much for Repost @writersnetwork ����

    Read More


  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 20w

    #ForUntilWeMeetAgain #SomeSadScibbles #ak_writezz
    #draft #oneshot #onestretchwrite #wod #pod #meeting
    @miraquill @writersnetwork #miraquill #writersnetwork

    All written rights reserved
    11 July 2021 12.35 pm

    / A Chapter from My Story /
    Thank you for reading O_o

    Last Summer ~

    Warmth of the sun wafted through the summer wind
    Like a heat wave of tingle, that caressed their silhouette
    Tides were impatient, prodding them to indulge in them
    Forget the land for a while, just slip into waves of fantasy

    She held his hand tighter, walking through the shore
    She looked like a dream come true, a wish from heaven
    His spirits brimming with joy, he was on cloud nine
    His long-term wish was granted, he awaited waves of love

    His heart was surfing through waves of emotions
    High tides of love and low swirls of urges

    He felt like this was the most lively he ever got to be
    To feel alive, and that had only one reason

    He gazed at her with so much longing, as if she was the setting sun who would take a quick dip into the depth of the ocean and hide from him. It was his biggest fear, that someday she would disappear and he would be left on the shore alone, recollecting memories from the surging tides like seashells and keep them in his heart forever as a treasure while gifting those waves some salty silver drops in return, adding to the tears of the ocean. And he wondered if the oceans ever held tears in its abyss as treasures of tragic tales. If they did, would his tears turn into melancholic pearls or seraphic crystals. Then he left the thought to swirl in a whirlpool of tides because he was sure that his love for her permeates the value of all treasures and nothing in this world, not even the world could ever be able to define the love he feels for her.

    Just then a lazy breeze curled through her long locks and made her look back at him while trying to comb her wavy hair back to some perfection she hoped for, not knowing how her curls swaying in the breeze was stealing his heartbeats. And he thought, she doesn't know how she's already perfect.

    The smile that bloomed on her red lips could rival the burning fiery sun, the shade of her lips, a tint sharper than the tangerine hues spreading all over the sky. Soon they would turn red but still can't be compared to her lips. He wished if he could ever feel those shades someday, if today had that lucky charm for him, a taste of bliss before the foreshadowing darkness.

    He found it hard to believe that it was the first time they are meeting. She was always strange but never a stranger. She was always distant but never far. But then he also remembered that its something only she could be. Which he learned to adapt to.
    She was also always joyful but never happy. Which never fails to break his heart into crinkles of shards, that of a mirror which only ever held the image of a single person his whole life - Her

    Then her eyes would shine with all the lights of a galaxy, burning his heart through it but at the same time glueing the mirror back into its desired form. Those eyes were what tethered his heart down to the earth and he prayed his affection is as transparent as a floating bubble over the shorelines.

    Those eyes were now charming him. And he couldn't let the playful glint in them disappear with the retreating wave. He moved a bit, took a step ahead, even though the land under his feet was leaving, he leaned towards her in hopes of finding a new land with her, somewhere across the ocean.

    He held her cheeks as if a prayer to the winding day and tried to find a gleam of hope in the shining twin orbs. They held the sparkle of a precious tear, stubbornly holding onto her lashes, afraid of drowning in waves of depression. He couldn't bear the sight of them anymore, even though it's the first time he's witnessing it.

    " Who broke your heart... so much... so that, every hearty smile would be accompanied with a teardrop ? "

    She could never reveal the truths to him, a helpless smile tried to peel its petals wanting to be an early bloom. But the dark night she's fated to live through still stretched long in front of her. She could only tilt her head a bit to the right, against those rushing winds and gushing waves. And it was enough for the tears to trickle down the valley of her cheeks.

    " e v e r y o n e "

    Those tears would have etched that unspoken word on the heart of the ocean. But they were as helpless as her fate, dissolving into the agony of miserable moisture, flying to the skyline in invisible bullets of pain, piercing those looming clouds and granting a sorrowful shower soon.

    Yet he discerned those alphabets from the furious waves that held it up to his face with a sense of might, that made him prepare for the worst. He was already prepared for however she would react and this was one of the most possible options in them.

    She took a step back from him, tears tracks gleaming in the twilight. Her parched throat made it hard for her to whisper to him. Or maybe its her heavy heart weighing her down, an anchor of pain she wished to throw away someday, but when ... Not today at least.

    " It's already time. We must return to the land. "

    From that of a fantasy to the land of reality. She intended. She knew when the sun disappears, reality would choke them with lumps of dark past. She wasn't a pessimist in any way, rather she was pretty optimistic about life. If not she wouldn't have agreed to meet him now. Today. Here. Ever.

    " You know I won't let you go like that. Without a word. "

    His words were too much for the streak of luck reaching to them from the setting sun. He hoped they would bless them with a positive glow.

    " You know I can't stay. With you. Like this. Ever again."

    " You don't have to stay more than we agreed to. Just say what I wanted to hear from you. Only you. "

    " I can't. It wouldn't come true."

    She pleaded with her eyes, they weren't shining now. They were overflowing, a reverie of ripples.

    " You know I can't. ' We ' was a dream. Reality is ' You' and never ' Me '.
    Cause I have no tether to reality, I'm a daydream. Did you forget already ? "

    Somehow a chuckle escaped her lips and no one but he knows how that flipped his heart upside down. He couldn't help smiling then, albeit gloomy.

    " Yeah. You are !
    A beautiful daydream... "

    That was all he could utter. He was losing all hopes to the diminishing twilight. This was the last of a beautiful sunset, he was sure about that. They walked back to the shores awaiting a caress of waves that were wailing back to the ocean.

    And the land always knows that the retreating waves would return back stronger than before. All it had to do was wait for the rhythm of time to play. The symphony of the ocean could alight a new fate for them.

    " All I'm asking you is to let me be that tether to you. I could be the one.
    The only one you'd ever have to trust without regret."

    He whispered one last time. Wishing to be the anchor she deserves to have than the one that's dragging her down. She too deserves to live a reality where hurt never springs and joy ever snows.

    All she returned was a measured smile, perhaps its taking too much for her to even have that small inch of curve upwards. For her eyes were already drooping like sleepy blooms.

    She turned ahead and walked away, taking with her a season full of summer. This was the last day and the last day of hope vanished with her. He stood back there, staring at her figure disappearing in the shadows playing on the footpath. Till there was nothing but a scenery of sorrow in front of him. Because she wasn't a part of it anymore.

    He turned to the ocean with an ache he couldn't hold in, offering the long-held tears to the ocean at last. The sun seemed like a dream that never was real. A fantasy which failed to illuminate the future.

    ~ Tonight he saw the waves gliding in the moonlight
    Carrying his treasure tears
    Tonight he realized his tears were precious pearls
    Sailing to the land of melancholia ~

    •| And love once again was drowned in the ocean by the setting sun
    Fate once again pulled the pitch black curtains over them
    Destined to suffer a lifetime as lonely ships in the night... forever |•


    Read More

    Last Summer / First Meeting

    Warmth of the sun wafted through the summer wind
    Like a heat wave of tingle, that caressed their silhouette
    Tides were impatient, prodding them to indulge in them
    Forget the land for a while, just slip into waves of fantasy

    She held his hand tighter, walking through the shore
    She looked like a dream come true, a wish from heaven
    His spirits brimming with joy, he was on cloud nine
    His long-term wish was granted, he awaited waves of love

    His heart was surfing through waves of emotions
    High tides of love and low swirls of urges

    He felt like this was the most lively he ever got to be
    To feel alive, and that had only one reason