It’s fascinating you would never know someone , Until you walk in their shoes , You can never cease twelve inch distance with their foot , It is easier when someone is on fire and you cover the miles , Simply , to watch them burn , You would never know heat of their ground , While you walk on yours unconcerned , You would never know that they tie their shoe laces , As they have were tripped by people , That they have forgot their ways more than they reached destinations , You would never know them even you know them for years.
He is the love of the moon , Blooming in my rusty coarse memory lane in the night time , White tinted in the shimmery golden moonlight , Unveils under the blue wary , Sleeping as white morning glory.
Saw the moths native bees and bats on his petals , Terrified , they will degrade him for their luscious nectar , Can’t sway away to entincting fragrance , Getting consumed by him is poisonous , While he grew up between wilts , He is my moonflower not my sunshine , befriending with the weeds , Blossoms in dark cloudy days his stem in the wild wilts , I knew if I devour him I’ll get hurt instead , He is my moonflower , Amorous during the night hour , but wild like moonflower.
You have to grow Even growing means cutting a stem and planting the same , There was no rain so even thinking everything you did was in vain , Even you have to go to rot and fall down during autumn , Even you have to spurn from new branches to be a flower first you have to be the bud , Sometimes you grow into wild shrubs , Sometimes grow into healing herbs , To grow and realize significance timber out of chestnuts tree , Sometimes you will be compromised to keep habitat evergreen , Sometimes the scrap of you is of great importance , Helding high touching sky as soon as eucalyptus , Even being reaped from Earth but so frail that wild air and Earth can’t grip us , You will fall there all ended ,
Sometimes it is intended. Sometimes growth means growing all apart
Know my mind is a closed cage , I am bounded by your invisible chains , I tried to run I know this would hurt , Cracks in the walls but no light gets in , Maybe you were never what you showed maybe I was imagining , What was my crime to get punished , this brutally ? , But you never really held me how to ask you to release ? , but it went wrong , I stepped on false stone , I never knew worst is yet to come , While I have set myself free yet I feel imprisoned.
Maybe it wasn’t the chains , I needed to cut the roots , Maybe I put you on pedestal you had no choice to keep me on your shoes , You kept me in the dark you thought I won’t wished for the sky , I know I can’t run but never thought I could fly , but it turned from the heaven to catastrophe , but it went wrong , I stepped on the false stone , I always knew deep that worst was yet to come , But one day , I will free myself yet I feel imprisoned.
Woke up , early , mama asked take only two candies , I spinned across the room , I got tired easily , I fall asleep on the bed peacefully , Now I can’t make mistakes I can’t be wrong , I remember music in my heart but crave for that lost song.
I have watched this movie a hundred times , I was saying the dialogues speaking between the lines , I once believed in sparkly things and fairytales , I made a painting knowing I am not that great , I felt on the ground from bed I thought I had huge wings , The kingdom was mine sometimes I was the most desirable queens , That is a place I belong I belong , I remember music in my soul but I crave for the lost song.
Bare feet running on the ground , I played with the colour now I am praying to lord not to get found , I miss the mischief , Sometimes I was innocent sometimes I was thief , There is former house at the old lane , I still call it home , There is feeling that I long I long , I remember the music in my soul but I crave for the lost song.
Golden tint over my canvas , An artist is nothing besides his madness , Wrote you a sonnet , wrote you a poem wrote you many stanzas , My words could never do fair play for you , Aesthetically , World applauds my art but for you I am always curious painter.
The north star in my constellation , The protagonist in my every imagination , Sketch of your remnants in my every adaptation , It’s your glimmering light that makes void in my pages spark , Your spilled colors you think is messy it makes my most admired art , There are countless pages where I have stopped writing further , Never putting fullstop commas one after another , In despair , many of us have that one unsung tale , Yet I get tint of gold whenever I dwell into your details , Sometimes sharing you to the world makes me feel like a traitor , World stood admiring you but I sat and wondered like curious painter.
Tried drawing you with words his silent lips those unfathomable eyes , Made countless attempts again and again had rigorous practice , Saw the random words deposited on paper thought I could never do him justice , I am miser painter who chooses not to use her favourite color , I am negligent pianist who only hits that one note upright which she as child discovered , Your possession on my art I am running from your ghost still in your reflection on my paper appeared a little fainter , World will always admire you closely modestly you would spot me in corner occasionally looking at you like bewitched wondering like curious painter.
I had to keep going. Penning down several poetries now and then. Seems like I am wasting too much of time in it. I have my second year exams which I am not taking seriously so I need a proper break of two months till my exams are over because I am scrolling through wordpress . This app they have people like me who have same interests as me. i.e. writing. I need time for my self study which I actually forget count when I am using it . I promise you regular update after my exams are over. I am sorry.
That’s the game of evolution Darwin said Only to survive would be the one who is fittest , The one who does the charity , Thinks he can replinsh rules of society , Whether that’s massacre all over there is bloodshed , The one to suffer more is never the power holding man , Thinks he can stop the disaster but discovers his own made calamity , Build big skyscrapers But stoops low each time to bring more shame on humanity , Could have done million of things with that mind , They mask it under dirty politics and brings down mankind.
Everything’s fair in love and war , How did you not find child’s laughter pure ? , He thinks his father is daily wage worker , He is to tender to understand he got killed in mass murder , His mother laid beside him her soul leaving her body , She was to a daughter to somebody , He will be sitting there not leaving her mother on the roadside , Tell me how to explain the child meaning of geopolitical ugly game how to explain him genocide , How to fight them all when they are combined ? , They will write history with his lost innocence bring back shame to mankind.
The countries will be bringing the aid , They will trade women’s body for the bread , There once a history resided no it left with no trace , Now only photographs evident before everything got ruined turned into carcass , Each time they all come in hopes of better opportunities , Before they all end it into man made calamity , They build missiles , bombs and machine guns most intelligent creatures built their own death traps , History’s evident this has happened and will keep happening abridging gap , Only to some other countries in some order conditions under different states , Even seeing the catastrophe even devil joined his hands and prayed , They will be keep making mistakes of the kind , Nothing ever learns is human Sometimes it’s shameful to be one of mankind .
I wore the old cardigan it has started to snow , Now I see the April sun starting to approach , and I see a guest arriving at my door , I saw the black clouds in the sky I saw blaring storm , As a lover of snow , It gives me endless hope , It gives me the moment joy and endless pain , Nothing gives hopes like End March Rain.
It rained , I saw around the lush greenry , It was nothing like snow it it never promised it serenely, It hide the sun before working hours and stole the afterglow , It promised me only of the rainbow , It never promised me smell of snow , It did promised me petrichor , Maybe I will have warm feeling gazing out of the window in my quilt , It says it will bring life to the wilt , As lover of snow , I knew I was running insane , Nothing gives hope like End March Rain.
Untrustworthy , it turned to be behind the thick fog , It was it’s game it was all hoax , It rained but it shredded roots of wilt , As lover of snow I trusted it now I have unforgiven guilt , It brought muddy footsteps on the ground , Closing the window was other way around , Only few lines of thunderlights but it stole the afterglow , It was never weather so it will be sunny tomorrow it was all beautiful Illusion , As lover of snow , It saw me needy it saw me vulnerable , So that’s why I was it was moment of joy and endless pain , Some people are like End March Rain.
Worderlusterwrites 