Hold the pain of creation
And the power of resignation

Don't think of my tolerance
As my weakness

I carry the earth of the inferno
And the dust of the Nirvana

I am strong as a queen
And I am sachharine as dolorosa

I gratify feminity
And embrace humanity

I was born a female
But i chose to be a woman

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A battle with my soul

A little girl of four
Saw the marks I bore
On my hand

Her mind , the powerhouse of curiosity
Enlightened by my scars
She asked me with nobility

" why do you have scars on your hand ? "
Her soul as tender as a rose
away from life's con's and pro's
Its hard to explain the scars engraved by life

" I fought a battle for my life ones , and they left scars on my hand "
With numbness in her voice she said " you are brave and kind that you fought the upmost bland "

She saw the same cut on another teen's hand
She praised the teen boy for fighting hard and she received a quote
" its a battle I am fighting now and its long to end , your appraisal filled the void created by pain "

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She passed a dagger through her heart
I found her corpse where her hand was on the dagger and blood on the floor
There was stain on the carpet

I saw the last tear drop rolling from her eyes
Touching the wooden floor
Her body all cold and pale

The crowd said
" she was strong yet weak " ...

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Life was never a thing in my hand , my birth was inevitable but our death is feasible . that one thing that stops us from it is societal obligations otherwise many fairies would have been out in a beautiful place where there is no malice, care , loneliness its peace.

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You realize you have lost yourself
When you can't find yourself
In your own work...

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Will always stay
They will always be visible when we are at the pinnacle
When the rays of success falls on us
The shadows reminds us our sorrow
" i will stand on that cliff tomorrow "
It is dark not white
Its dull not bright
As past of a glorious future
Is dingy but paints a beautiful picture

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Keeping the acrimony in is a torment
But letting it out is a different kind of prison

As people don't believe things
As they never faced those things

They believe on actions they commit
The actions they witnessed
The actions which lacerated them in an out

They believe in supremacy
"Help is what a weak ask" is what we believe
So , how can I ever let it out ?

My pain taught me you have to bottle up
Till it dies inside
The fury and the rage will settle
When you feel numb and blue ...

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It takes me time to read you
And its not all blue
Not bland

You have different colors locked in you
Like a book holds different words in it

I relish every bit of your emotions
Like we crave for every bit of the book

The way we smell the whiff of scent on the new books
Is a scent I feel over your clothes

A scene of exploration, in depth scrutiny and indispensable satisfaction .

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First kiss,
Was that us you did that ?
No , it was a couple , two lovers who loved each other intensely and whose vehemence led to creation of the most mystical action ...

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