meghasharma

The experience of conflict is the price one pays for the freedom to chose.

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  • meghasharma 1w

    Sometimes you feel like
    a mountain,
    passive, erect, and observing,
    despite being worn out
    by treads and violent winds.
    ©meghasharma

  • meghasharma 5w

    Chaos beneath the silent sea ��
    #tilus #miraquill #writersnetwork

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    Throbbing of silent heart
    Peeks the night

    Bleeds!

    ©meghasharma

  • meghasharma 8w

    #poetry #worldpoetryday #miraquill #writersnetwork
    Happy World Poetry Day to all ��

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    A LITERARY ANGUISH

    When the words find a way
    through the fissures of the soul,
    to quietly whisper
    the storm buried long ago.
    Reverberations in the mind
    the humdrum of memories
    the senses capture long ago,
    A conflict evermore!
    Some moments of tranquility,
    some words of disguise,
    it's the heart who witnesses
    the hypocrisy of the mind!
    When the sky is burning bright
    and clouds the 'ashes' of the sky,
    from the chasm unseen
    blue drops the sky bleeds
    making an imprint on the barren earth,
    whose petrichor awakens the bud
    lulled in deep slumber!
    A new life is in full bloom,
    a lure to spectator's delight,
    oblivious of the plight
    hidden in its deepest core,
    The anguish of the earth
    From the times unknown!
    ©meghasharma

  • meghasharma 15w

    Guilty is the heart
    that reverberates on
    the expressed thoughts.
    ©meghasharma

  • meghasharma 15w

    I've woven
    A heaven's embroidered dream
    In the Isle of love
    Just you and me.
    And when the warm winds of siesta
    carry my love,
    you smiled on being sunkissed,
    sitting in the shade of tree
    deep down you know
    I'm peeping through those glistening leaves,
    I too know, you're weaving the same dream
    under the mistletoe.
    Wish life could be as simple
    As those metaphors
    With you and I
    Sitting beside the shore
    Listening a grand orchestra
    Of the glistening waves
    Singing in the Isle of love.
    ©meghasharma

  • meghasharma 18w

    Memory- An intertwined life!

    As I Ignite a figment of my mind
    winter strikes the window pane
    as a snow flake,
    I let in the lost time
    with a chill of nostalgia, and
    the apricity of mid-day life,
    time loses its linearity
    running in circles,
    reminding me that
    what has been lost comes alive.
    ©meghasharma

  • meghasharma 23w

    My heart's a sky
    And your memories the stars


    The night was pitch-dark
    Not a lark to sing
    I heard the ravens scream
    A bad omen, my heart senses.
    That was the night
    I lost thee
    Bidding adieu was not my forte
    Kept you adorned in my heart
    A sight for me to behold
    Each night when I look up at stars.
    ©meghasharma

  • meghasharma 42w

    #tanka #laugh
    Syllable scheme- 5:7:5:7:7

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    Tanka: Long forgotten Paradise

    The ringing windchimes
    Giving music to deaf ears
    Now the child has gone
    Replacing cherubic laugh
    With formidable silence.
    ©meghasharma

  • meghasharma 42w

    #spring #hyacinth #miraquill #writersnetwork

    Rhyming scheme- ababcdcdefefgg

    The poem is inspired from the Greek mythology about the story of love between Greek God of poetry and music, Apollo and the Spartan prince, Hyacinth. Hyacinth was the male lover of Apollo and he choses Apollo over the Greek God of West winds, Zephyrus who in wrath killed Hyacinth. Apollo was unable to save him despite his medicinal skills as he can't reverse the fate. From Hyacinth's spilled blood, Apollo created a flower with the same name with deep blue hue and curled petals. The flower attributes the symbol of decay and renewal.

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    Death and Birth

    The sovereign of the mystical land
    With his abode blossomed with spring and eternity,
    One day in his elflock did entangle Apollo's hand
    Unlocking the plaits left him in serenity,
    Lovestruck, he played the lyre
    Drenching the mortals with Ambrosio from heaven,
    Alas! The west winds brought an ire
    A wrath upon Apollo sung by the raven,
    Not even his poesy did lament his heart
    Cursed the west winds to bring about the fall,
    But the spilled blood from heaven created an art
    On the land of mortals uncovering the pall,
    Of the glommy darkness as the blue mist touches the earth,
    Bringing about seasonal mirth in the form of Hyacinth's birth .
    ©meghasharma

  • meghasharma 44w

    Outpouring

    In the battleground of life,
    The slings and arrows of cruel destiny
    Espy the feeble mind ,
    Entangling the conscience
    An act of conflicts
    Either a play of mind
    or a curse of Satan's influence
    Sucking the soul out of life
    Left behind a mortal's fate:
    Languid eyes, flaxen face
    Always in search of a treasure
    Which once found,
    seemingly exalted will be the sunken eyes
    Till then the lingering shadows
    Embellish the night
    As a trail of the dark, crestfallen sky.
    ©meghasharma