Thanks @miraquill for EC _____________________________________________________
Have you ever noticed the convulsed orange inch of the moon perching on the silver minute of the evening.
Nature gives me a magical power inherent to weave in mind the lattice of light and shadow. To feel the shroud of surreal stillness as fields lying miraculously in violent silence.
Fill with microscopic withering I learn what life teaches me I read her silly poems diligently and slowly writing myself Prolifically.
Bursting with words, her rapture of a dream, I've shared sky's fantasy. I follow the unvisited signs and end up getting lost in the depth of dense tranquillity.
As I walk on this path of life, not to live without fault but to thrive in its decadence. My footsteps crumple upon dry amber leaves to make the melody for my enchanted journey unfinished within.
// Being a writer makes me feel alive, makes me feel like we all are travelling through a long road where all the people are minutely dead yet every white streak of healed tissues felt like a badge of honour Cause we L I V E D a L O V E D life. A life worth noticing, A life worth telling the stories about. //
Life is about having hopes yet despair is everywhere. Funny how pain always sweeps through our hearts But , You Add life to me And when I witness it pulling away I lose my breath in the most spacious of places; surrounding your heart.
Poetry never dies, nor does the love It becomes one and beats inside the poet's heart. ~ Love becomes You Like that hymn ~ The melody of the song ringing in my ears -
❝ Afsos hota hai, Dil bhi ye rota hai Sapne sanjota hai, pagla Hua. ❞
I see promises failing dreams shattering and the ache of our shattered heart is loud enough to be perceived through the ears. ~ And when all of our senses stop Love becomes our coffin.~
I think my skies might just implode into fiery fluster looking through your eyes. A brightness in you where the sun takes my eternal sunrise.
❝ Meelon ke hain faasle tumse na jane kyu Anjane hai silsile Tumse na jane kyu. ❞
I believe there is a reason why I feel the skies talk to me every night. I believe your message is reaching me through the beams of the moon. What if, We are born here on earth and after we die, Our souls travel to another universe and relive the same story?
// Apricot evenings and an incomplete love story - In a myriad of tints, my under-toned feelings keep uttering never ending epilogues to love. My heart began inking roses , Until the love I wanted to find got lost in a conjured boulevard, Of falsehood and fairy tales. It's silence has quietly become my universe, as i pen in moon-like solitude memoirs of an unrequited love.
❝ - Self love is a baby , that often loses its mother's hand in a town of fair and I just have to be patient enough to guide it back home. ❞
// Mirrors and poetries - Poetry is like a mirror, which is held up to curious faces who read looking for their own reflections.
❝ I must open the mirror to my soul , Sometimes, it's like returning to your true self.❞
Your eyes have consanguineous seasons of their own Summer, a sorcerer stalking betwixt lashes whilst gleaming gold Spring, a floret-flooding adornment upon the gaze that lures Cupid Monsoon, a galvanizing grief that waltzes in with a playlist of lofi Autumn, a maroon muse who withers when memories spin Winter, a weather mage that glows in flames while sealed with snow
And in the entirety of the sapient switch of clime I yearn to be cwtched in your eyes that filmstrip dreams And capture polaroids of my best moments, devoted to love Wanderer in me has found a home in the prismatic sleeves of your heart
/ Delassating drought of my existence sprouted dreams Drenched by the vicissitudes of your salubrious weather /
it's a blessing to be the one who gets wished first everytime the sun rises or to wish first; for a morning filled with smiles and goodness brings subtlety to my poetries until the moon sets.
for smiles and eye contacts~
it's so heartfelt to meet some of your eyes on some days and get tucked in 'em for a few seconds as if forever, they never take off from each other's and the hangovers, they last as smiles on my face till it's another morning, another day.
for colors and artworks~
it's a pleasure, a feeling unexplainable, which takes over every other emotion my heart has ever felt, whenever I see art with the colors on it making patterns in my brain.
for your greetings and love~
it's something to be grateful for, to see you greet back to me whenever I do to you and witness love bloom in the barren lands within me; the way I open doors of my blocked rooms of love whenever I remember you is something strange and unfathomable to me and that is the beauty of the heart.
I search around the streets That fire which now doused When those mannequins blew blaze Above the titfer of consequences Gypsum or daisies, a cradle or lullabies Seasons hum hymns of my screams And I look at the skies With queries so profound Can't I be the star or an eclipse so far? Or my smile is stuck with penury In the bushes of those territories Where no human is alive Where only hearts sings And graves are openly dried On one side sits a saint all drunk In this haze lays a drunkard Preaching like a saint Oh' how dual faced is this womb Where I live, I spat out frowns Looking equally ill in this fight Drums, flutes and symphonies Dancing up-on the cliff of my fingertips And wide-eyed I descry an epoch Where giggles are trapped In layers of sarcasm reeking of Deadly whites and blues in caves
Poison me with your soul as you feel like that sip of wine which made me a cu(b)e in the glass of rancid verses
Burn me, kiss me —Repeat it again
I'm not that girl anymore I'll gnash your lips if you try to game me in the name of love .
I've debossed my t(y)ears in the restless pages of my diaries, chewing few parables and hyponyms with frozen forsythias and my stomach is burning with the mishanter caused by polygons of melancholia piercing so deeply my spine and wall of my throat hath gulped thy scent signalling thy arrival in the backyard of my home ~The home same as yours
Thou shalt not know but I was waiting for you every silent night when my quill smelted into the verses I tapestried on the autumnal skies but my metaphors broke down and in a second I was necklaced with them
Three Two One
Inferno it was, torrefying my bones as I fleetingly smouldered into two syllables giving life to you
A poet .
Talking to the one who only can understand my yackety-yak thoughts –a #poet .