The sheer horror of being alive and not feeling alive! The guilt rising from procrastination as if paralyzed by life, yet another day went by, in a flash.
Waking up each day with a reminder of how the littlest little task demands efforts
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If you're to ask me I might say life's kinda funny in a weird way. The back and forth race to be understood by those who initially cause your madness? The passed down trauma that were dumped on you, made you less of a human everyday but look at me, I'm the happiest person your eyes will ever witness? There were pains pen could not pen down, I forgot much of them, or did I? The guilt that consumes your mind, they don't talk about it? There are pages that I refrained even my parents from seeing! And they say I'm still childish... If only you could witness the hour of madness that I only ever permitted myself to witness.
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The looked at but never seen
The observer but never the partaker
A race through the North pole to south pole
Of 'I'm full of life' to 'I'm barely a human'
Dreams are slowly fading away
Yet Hope is, so life.-
This and that,
Deserted land,
Heart beat slow,
The rate of hope below.
Land o land, wander land
Dream rise and fall and
Shattered pieces of piece all I carry
In the back of my pocket.
-
Am there, but not really ever there,
The misunderstood protagonist in it's own show
For a fool, uncannily, that I'm
In this circus of Life,
When I forgot the rules
In life which is no less of a masquerade...
-
The earth is waking
After a long deep slumber
Warm hues are blooming
Round and round the world
Again,
The chirps of birds are no more nostalgic
There’s now enough ink
To paint the sky, the heart, those eyes
Again,
There’s a whisper of hope carried around,
By those green leaves,
Those colourful pallets of mother Nature
There is glint of life,
Everywhere those eyes can wander.
It’s time to heal
It’s time to heal
It’s time to live, learn, breath, heal,
The season of letting go has arrived
The void at last has spoken.
-
Can death bring peace?
A half finished chapter- book
Will be all left behind..
Will anyone ever pick up the book- to read-
Perhaps, try to understand,
The full of riddle ridden soul that I always had been, as they used to say?
But did ever anyone wait?
For time is always running out!
I would be another dust-
Among millions of other dusts!
These humans may not-
Yet the moon may-
The stars may shed a tear or two,
For they always felt closer to this heart,
Then the humans around could ever,
Perhaps, I would be closer to home then!
-
The mere conditioning that one must make attempts to make thyself happy wherein how low maintenance it is to drown in the ocean of misery, regret and mud of self shame!
-
The otherworldly wishes,
To be beyond the perception of the world,
To be a part of the mysterious beauty of the night,
To be anything but a human,
To escape it's bound,
Run to the moon, touch the stars,
Run across the flower beds,
Neither its meaninglessness nor its distressed existence amaze me no more..-
Because she's a woman
So she thrives in silence,
Her resilience lies in her silence,
They see her
Not the rage of the woman in her
There's this weight,
Forming from pretending to be someone,
She definitely is not!
It's the audacity,
Truth to be told, to dream, to hope, to live,
Away away far away
From what she's become!-