feeling sad is my side hobby ��

Grid View
List View
  • themoonandthesun 4h

    I wish to be a Cuckoo's Call__A whim called Song

    Nightingales are not common here
    But I adore Cuckoo's call
    Enchanted with its melody
    Very first time I heard it

    Often wished I were one,
    Free, awestrucking, enchanting
    Like a beacon of light
    In the sea of darkness
    Soothing away tedious pain

    Living her life would bring me
    Fame, suitors and praise
    But would it ever bring me home?
    Left to fend by others,
    A parasite in disguise
    Leaving behind preciousness
    A beauty blessed with
    Leisurely adventure, without
    Home for tranquil recollection

    Not a poet nor a Nightingale
    I'm a lost bird in winds of life
    Simple without melody words
    Life; a barren field frozen with snow
    Unable to dance and skate
    I fly high, frigid and forlorn

    With wishful end
    To the Cuckoo's Call
    I'm not a seasonal song,
    But a doom called Chaotic Call


  • themoonandthesun 3d

    #howto #amru_wn_repost #amru_pod

    I tried abstract this time. I know it's weird and complicated but I hope it'll give you hope. I know it's not easy to smile these days but maybe pretence will become real someday. So smile my dears, for me, for your loved ones, for your worthy self.

    @writersnetwork you guys are love. Thank you for always supporting me. Muuaah ��

    @miraquill you guys made my day. You guys made me smile. Thank you so much for POD. I'm grateful. Love ya fam ��

    And thank you'll for always supporting me and giving me reason to smile. Thank you for all the likes, reposts and wishes. ��

    Read More

    How to grow Wildflowers called Smiles

    Negating self, I wandered in quest
    One of identity and worth
    Never looking inside my soul
    Once happy, now mourned innocence
    Without a knock, jostled in adulthood
    Those strenuous thoughts
    Followed tedious nights
    Sleepless and dazefilled,
    Dead yet breathing

    Tears were never a choice
    Amidst all the chaos
    Life became a task

    Sensory pain and sensual torture
    White noise and blooming lilies
    Taunted the haunting laughter
    But then I learned to fake
    Dreams, expectations,
    Imaginations, escapes

    //Pretence became a choice,
    A chance at life anew//

    Like righting the broken glass vase
    I pasted a broken smile
    Pretending laughter,
    My intestines giggled
    Vines grew on my ribs
    Creeping into my soul
    Mending broken with fissures
    Roots held tight skin,
    Blooms that escaped from eyes

    A serene peace,
    No interruption
    I smile whole and full
    Pretence became real
    Righting a broken smile
    A wildflower bloomed
    At the creeks of broken lips


  • themoonandthesun 4d

    I missed being here and missed writing. This here is not an emotional writeup or anything. It's just, I can't think of anything to write these days.

    I'll read y'all soon.

    PS: for @fromwitchpen ��

    Sanam I missed your birthday. I'm sorry my dear. I was a bit busy with exams. I just wanna say that you are one of the beautiful and kind souls here, who not only did inspire me but gave me hope. Your quill never disappoints us.
    I love how vocal you are about the issues and how you handle rude "critics", you handle them with smile and elegance. I'm happy that you do the special heart to heart venture which give us hope and a feeling of oneness.
    I remember once you told me to never call my write ups "lame" because you believe it's important to respect what we write. So even when I thought my write ups where lame I never did put the hashtag (btw most of the time my write-ups are lame. Let's agree to disagree) I'm glad I met you here. You helped me learn a lot of new words. Lol.
    I know you have a special bond with the word "witch", but remember you are the witchy-angle for me. Keep writing and blooming. I wish you all the happiness and joy. Jaab book publish karogi humko mat bhul jaana.

    I hope you had lots of fun on your special day. Merko to party mangneka hakk nai hai.. But phir bhi. ��

    A happy birthday to you.�� (Belated hi sahi)

    Read More

    I can't think of anything to write these days

    To You,

    I can't think of anything to write these days. It's not as if I don't have words to scribe. Nor it's due to weary day with tedious exams. 'Cause I remember vividly those gray days, when my fingers trace bold pages, itching to fill vacuum with script. Complete the unfinished thought that begged an escape.

    Chaos never made sense, but writing did regulated my heart's rhythm. Yet these days emotions are trapped, within my oblivious eyes and sealed lips. Nothing escapes the black hole anymore. Surprisingly not even the sad happiness.

    But if you look closely you'll see me. I linger in the gaps of words on this page. Within your breath as you read each syllable. I travel with your eyes that track each line. I'm there in your rhyming fingers that tap the palm of your right hand as you go crazy. You read my soul, those unsaid gratitude, a numbness that sings peaceful songs.

    What for, The gratitude? You might think. Unsure of what to think. Death or hope? Melancholy in the beat of lovely rain that shimmers into our hearts, mine and yours. You worry over with chewing your lipbalm, pulling your hair. What for, is this letter being grateful?

    I know I won't be alive long. Death is on it's way. I don't know how or when I'll pass. But I'm content, knowing that You out there are keeping me alive in your breath. Reading me like an absurd poem, that makes less sense with each caesura and each enjambment.

    I'm not the metaphors you love neither am I those magniloquent words that you crave. I'm just the gaps in syllables, pauses in syntax and the jumbled thought in your head. I know you won't read it. Neither would I if I were you. Yet I'm gratified of the fact, that it's out there. The unsaid that I uttered without language.

    This time chaos is peaceful. It's just that I can't box emotions in language, nor does order replace whatever is tangled. Because I can't think of anything to write these days.


    (I'll leave it here; terrible and content.
    Because it is yours to read or maybe not.)

  • themoonandthesun 2w

    #like #wod @writersnetwork

    Thank you WN for the kind repost ��

    Read More

    Moonless Starry Night camouflaged Broken Star

    Not just my hide
    But a blank canvas
    Frameless, formless
    Now filled with blotted ink

    Frustrating, angry, hurt
    Negating emotions
    I dodge words

    Like falling leaves
    On a windy day
    I let lines flow;
    Not poetry,
    Yet poetic

    Not just the paper
    My melancholic eyes
    I claw out sorrow
    That lurks within
    Smudging the gaps
    Amidst inkless

    (grieving saline)
    Drips on the paper

    Synonymous to my soul
    Devoid of metaphors
    I spin the yarn of feels
    Knitting winter
    Devoid of serenity

    Like falling leaves
    On a windy day
    I jostle gravity, and
    Fall into the night sky
    Moonless starry night
    Camouflaged broken star


  • themoonandthesun 3w

    Analysing Byron's "She Walks in Beauty", random thoughts came to me. Silly thoughts.

    #temp #love @writersnetwork

    Read More

    ◦•●◉✿Oh! I'm in Love✿◉●•◦

    *Yes, I'm in love*
    Unwelcome thought that
    Jostle in with chaos,
    Yearning adoration

    However enchanting it was
    The smile that touched your eyes
    Blue shirt that blushed with starlight
    Winds fragrant with your cologne
    Our perfect romantic meet up
    Resemble my favorite song

    I want it all
    Struggling heart
    Holding hands
    Confronting evils
    And a forever

    Yet, here I am
    Cynical to take the first step
    Unable to accept "love"
    I walk away to a,
    "Me; before you"

    Conscious, that my life
    Is rather a tragedy
    Not a Romantic comedy
    Oh, I'm in love
    (with an ideal of love)


  • themoonandthesun 3w

    #love #amru_ec #amru_wn_repost

    Thank you for your kind repost @writersnetwork �� and thank you for EC �� means a lot.

    Read More

    And then it rained,
    Washing away the
    Mute silence.

    Yes, it rained
    In all it's glory
    Thunder and
    Lightning followed.
    Cuddling my blanket
    Of unwritten memories;
    Which I gathered
    From forgettable
    Whimperings smothered
    All that's left was an echo

    Hollowing howl of
    Echoing silence

    Oh, it rained
    Washing away what's left
    Puddling around forged splashes

    Never knowing
    Where it rained
    Outside my window
    Or within my soul
    Knocking away in silence

    When it rained,
    It poured


  • themoonandthesun 3w

    I wonder where thoughts come from?

    Is it the hallway without corridors
    Or mountainous echoes of valleys
    That nourish a thought or two?
    Do collective unconscious exist,
    The one we share with apes and monks?

    Munching on facts from the new God
    I gather fun about processing thoughts
    Few think in pictures and few in sounds
    Dreamers though, think in words aloud

    Ever explaining where they come from?

    Escaping into a question
    About existence
    A crisis called life,
    Poet lives in poesy,
    Digging nightmarish nights,
    Don't they?

    For poesy, a half drunk sailor, sailing snow,
    In paper boats; these thoughts came to me?
    Tangerine day sweeps frost of November,
    For what, Spring blooms within wintered desert?

    Thoughts like wildflower flowering amidst weeds
    I uproot my brain to plant seeds called thoughts?


  • themoonandthesun 3w

    #start #wod @writersnetwork

    I just couldn't stay away longer. I miss being here. @murryben babe I missed you ��

    Thank you for EC ��


    Read More

    Wondering what withered along with winds

    I stand against the wind
    Shrinking away from touch
    I hug myself tight,
    A question indeed

    Never shaking hands
    I nod in acknowledgement
    A step or two backing away
    From familial embrace

    Wasting away in books
    I read of touch starved
    Those unlucky souls
    Who yearn comfort,
    A hug or two

    I escape
    Hide in my blanket
    Craving comfort; that I threw away
    Too little and a bit much

    An answer indeed
    I hug myself tight
    Shrinking away in hibernation

    Wondering what withered first
    My trust or the lack of it?

    ~trust issues


  • themoonandthesun 4w

    I will delete this. I think I'm gonna get a reputation if I keep up with my stupid poems on strangers. Well, I couldn't help it. I went to the bank and saw a cute guy. AND he deserves a poem. I promise y'all I'm not creepy. �� #amru_ka_phamous_stranger (not)

    #temp @murryben @sumiinked @rimi_ojha @treble_clef

    Read More

    He was not "my stranger", wasn't he?

    Corona de-crowded sweaty banks
    Mine was no different,
    Rushing nevertheless
    Rechecking the numbers
    Impatient I yearned escape

    Accountant then took a break
    Waved me off to a waiting seat
    Scrolling through was never a choice
    Seeker in me observed the eyes

    Then I met him and his smile
    Sparking eyes with wavering hair
    He was wearing glasses this time
    I could see him gazing others
    Bored and scrolling through
    I thought of staring a bit more
    But she announced my name

    Time moved at a sloth's pace
    I turned thrice and a bit more
    He never noticed me nor my smile
    But I wished to stop time,
    Rewind and say "Hi"

    Forward or shameless?
    A stranger added to the list of many
    Corona de-sanitised my single brain

    ~girl who fell in love (again)

  • themoonandthesun 4w

    @murryben why am I like this? I made happiness sad ��Babe I know you are lucky for me �� muaahh

    #start #wod @miraquill

    @writersnetwork you guys are love. �� A repost within 15mints. My heart went boom boom. �� have this


    Read More

    Remorse of Depressed Happiness: who forgot to knock on your door

    I have been growing hope in your backyard,
    Aware of neglect that dawned with morrow,
    Tears that flow at night; flooding gates of Hell,
    Unaware of Eden in your heart, you shuttered,
    Expecting happiness to knock on your door

    In your safekeeping, Protection of guarded walls
    You locked the front door, shut windows bold
    Hoping, I, your deject, would come unexpected
    Yet eyes of yours, equally fathomless expect

    Unaware of your crawling stranger; a stalking
    Creeper who slithered down the walls,
    To water your dreams at dusk and plant hope,
    Hopeless in love with you, epitome angel doomed
    Your fate, to love you again and perfectly anew

    Unaware of the open backdoor, I: Happiness
    Watched you mourn through the keyhole
    Sobs that tore my heart, night after night
    I left with a promise to knock your door

    Knowing tearful dews would clear my footsteps,
    A lawn all fresh, aware that you won't notice those
    Abandoned flowers by grave of your lost faith,
    I left a part of myself wrapped in a candy jar,
    For, I have been growing hope in your backyard

    ~a guardian too bad at her job/depressed happiness