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  • gopika_singh 7w

    No beauty is as alluring as it is the first time around...
    Words diffuse into echoes
    And sight into distorted memories

    But then I met a stranger
    Who's beauty was breathtaking twice...

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    No beauty is as alluring as it is the first time around...
    Words diffuse into echoes
    And sight into distorted memories

    But then I met a stranger
    Who's beauty was breathtaking twice...
    .
    ©gopika_singh

  • gopika_singh 7w

    Stay tuned to know what it feels like ...
    (A new poem coming soon)

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    Ever tried being in love with a critic?

  • gopika_singh 10w

    Stay for just a minute more...

  • gopika_singh 13w

    You know what's the most dangerous place in the world?
    It's not a graveyard
    Not a battlefield...
    Not a place with highest number of natural disaster occurances....
    No dangerous place will ever compete the dread of a hospital...
    You know why?
    It's because that's the place where you have hope...
    Hope that they might survive...
    No matter how big a disease someone has ....
    How big an accident has someone been in...
    How fragile state they are in...
    There's always hope...
    We won't accept the reality... We can't.
    Sometimes not even after death...
    Hope kills us like a slow poison and then blinds us...
    What can be worse than that?
    .
    ©gopika_singh

  • gopika_singh 13w

    Maybe if I sit under the overcast and let the showers soak my skin
    Maybe... Maybe if I let the rain drown me in...
    I won't keep drowning in my thoughts.

    #rain #love #quote #thoughts

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    .
    ©gopika_singh

  • gopika_singh 14w

    I was falling for you and I swear it felt like flying.
    .
    ©gopika_singh

  • gopika_singh 23w

    That thing...
    The thing you're afraid to write.
    Write that.

  • gopika_singh 24w

    Continuation of the poem (Spellbound)



    Bleen

    I sit there, amazed...
    Watching you dance barefoot on that moist grass.
    As you crush those green fruity little petals,
    They leave a trace on your foot and colour you with their melancholic green shades.
    Though the one's left alive,
    As they preserve your impressions... don't mourn.
    Even in death, they capture your prominent edges.
    Is it a sin to capture in my poetry, vibrancy, in something destructive... like death?
    I can't help but feel like even that graveyard is
    Celebrating with you...
    Dancing with you...
    And that all of nature is in a spell of you.
    Just like I am.

    All my life
    I believed that blue tells the tales of woe,
    That misery dresses herself in blue.
    But as this blue and limitless sky wraps the euphoric life within,
    As the animals given the gift of flight sing the songs of heaven,
    As the white cotton candies decorate the blue, sprinkling their sweetness all over...
    And as the moisture-laden winds seep through your hair knots,
    Unfolding them and announcing their freedom...
    Blue no more remains the colours of misery.

    And I stand here,
    Watching,
    As the blue and green kiss at the horizon,
    Giving a part away as they melt into each other,
    Completing life.

    Maybe this is why green is called a happy colour
    And blue recited as a melancholy,
    For they were known not as who they were,
    But as what they would metamorphose into,
    Every twilight,
    Giving birth to philosophies,
    Poetic metaphors,
    And nameless elusive feelings...
    Giving birth to bleen.

    Panoramic landscapes akin to this,
    makes me realize
    That,
    This is why there is no definition of life.
    No words to explain it,
    No way to decipher the intricacy
    For it can't be...
    Only described.
    You can never truly know what it is,
    Just drown in what it feels like.

    And then there is always you...
    Always at the centre of life happening.
    -Gopika

    #life #green #blue
    @writersnetwork @miraquill

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    Bleen

    And then there is always you...
    Always at the centre of life happening.

    ©gopika_singh

  • gopika_singh 26w

    Rarely do people leave me out of my melancholic words
    But I must say...
    You, my love
    Render me speechless.

    ©gopika_singh

  • gopika_singh 27w

    Why does it rain?

    To lift some.
    And to drown others...

    ©gopika_singh