• virtually_real 144w

    Words

    Over colorless scars on my heart
    A million stories find a subtle home
    Voiceless are its words, priceless its essence
    Selfless are my stories, with pain so immense

    I tried writing a lot 'bout my pain
    Barely words drizzle, rarely they rain
    Each incomplete poem, all abandoned drafts
    Teach me how to love, scribbling beyond craft

    All devices poured together,
    Never made a single verse
    Along premises of signing birds
    I wrote poems most diverse

    Nature is my only teacher
    An only guide of fair nature
    Colourful maybe it's caricature
    Magic still its silent feature

    Yellow and green, those flowers unseen
    Dangling lilacs, dancing roses
    Fallin' mangoes, a taste proposes
    Scented smell of soaked soil
    Takes away heart's turmoil

    Just an evening with my friends
    In our trembling treehouse
    Where everyone happily pretends
    To be a cat, or become a mouse

    We chase each other, in and out
    Let's laugh, live and lovingly shout
    Nobody knew our whereabouts
    Lovely was life then, no doubt

    I miss my childhood love, my seesaw
    In the park, about to dark, evening on rise
    White uniform now brown, I lay down
    Stars are my silent dreams, my mind in skies

    Closer to its garden, was a lost library
    Tagore on its walls, Gandhi in its gallery
    Words have their magic of own,
    I read upon a stationary stone
    I found words scribbled there, it's a prayer
    "Words never die, so ever alive is a writer
    No matter how dark is time
    Words turn my soul brighter"

    I couldn't select a book right then
    Never saw so many books once
    I left this choice to my hands, eyes closed
    I picked a book, it felt smaller in my hands
    Soon I opened eyes, at Gulzar my eyes land
    Listening to songs was love,
    Now living in them was life.

    It was a normal day, but now's a special date
    I heard a poem travelling through air
    Layer by layer, in ears poem disappears
    That voice still resonates in me,
    He was Kumar Vishwas, on the TV set
    His words, his voice, his poem, just perfect

    With love for his poems, I torn a page out
    Pen glided over my emotional glaciers
    Verses melted out of them, my first poem
    Flowed on paper like a drop of water
    I discovered an unknown world within me
    Upon the paper I become truly free
    Soaring in my endless universe
    World is just a rhyme, my life just a verse

    Stories were not my cup of tea, 'till I see
    How stories stay with me,
    Like a fish in deep sea
    Fiction truly comes back, to reality everyday
    "For you a thousand times over" when a writer does say
    Khalid Hosseni, a name needless to speak 'bout
    A master who taught me, how to life are words brought

    Humpty Dumpty and Twinkling stars
    You remind me of friends, I had lost
    They were so precious, I want them back
    But friends, Friendship's not free of cost

    It's too late already
    My masters will now visit me
    Let me close the doors, open windows
    A new book in my hands, I'm ready to dive in
    Reading is my first love, nothing can replace a novel
    Well, It's better unsaid, there are still a million tales to tell

    Knocking doors to my heart,
    Words travelled a long path
    Let them become a part of me
    Let me dive in deepest sea
    Let me live with purest glee

    Where my imagination finds help
    Is the best place to loose myself.

    //Books are best place to loose myself//


    Zaid Khan


    @mirakee @writersnetwork @sanskritisinha @dusky_dawn @philosophic_firefly


    #ceesreposts #pod #books #reading

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    Words

    Closer to its garden, was a lost library
    Tagore on its walls, Gandhi in its gallery
    Words have their magic of own,
    I read upon a stationary stone
    I found words scribbled there, it's a prayer
    "Words never die, so ever alive is a writer
    No matter how dark is time
    Words turn my soul brighter"

    ©virtually_real