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Black

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In the periods of lost memory, darkness lurks like terror that leaves the addicted mind in ruins. Running into the arms of despair where there is no sign of light, all is dark, all is black. Black is omnipotent, the divine color amongst all colors. One can hide in the shades of black, be lost forever but black is not the end. Black is personal,  close your eyes and it will all be black and not an inch of white. All is not black & white only black plays the predominance in the world. The almighty black.

The Girl I Met This Summer

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Out of site but not out of mind,
Her words are always kind,
Her kind heart is a fountain of pleasure,
Her smile spreading joy in the vicinity which is to treasure,
She is like Shakespeare’s poetic verse,
Don’t take her away oh lord I shall have you to curse.

Oh lord I follow you with all my devotion,
But the Gods also mock my bewildering emotions,
To be with her once more is the only notion,
When I wander in darkness,
She rescues me with her saintly notion.

The angels gentle smile,
The angles grace,
The angles sparkling eyes,
To lay my eyes on them is the only escape from this melancholic life cries.

 

 

Tree of Life : A Son’s Odyssey

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Into the depths of nature peer,

Hand in hand with his father he walks in the woods,

He only believes, there’s a miracle here,

But this was only a dream as he feared.

Standing on the porch a little boy with tears in his eyes,

His whole childhood filled with lies,

Awaiting his guardians love, his heart is filled with cries,

Waiting for the tiny tales that would put him to sleep,

His father scowled at him like a bolt of thunder,

Was this his bleak destiny he always wondered?

As time moves on,

These questions shall shape,

Where were your blessings?

Where were the fairy tales that would put me to sleep?

Where were the lessons of life?

Why did you considered me as a foe?

As the years move on,

His mended heart could take no more,

He saw others fathers would sweep them into a giggling ecstasy,

To be lost in wonderland called “the home” where they were shaken like a laughing rag,

He was far away from reality,

Just keeping faith and endure when tested the most.

He trusted in the lord with all his heart,

And not leaning on his own understanding,

Walking on the godly path,

Was only his part,

Constantly hearing the voices from heaven saying “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.”

Mourning and desperately seeking for an island of sanity,

As he was drowning in sorrows, this was his only tragedy.

Dreamer’s Dilemma

 

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I have a theory about dreamers, they are emancipated from this stifling world of friends and family, materialism and future security holds no meaning to them, it’s very menial to them. They live on the edge and find happiness in their dreams, but happiness is the real enemy here, it weakens the soul and it puts doubt in the mind. The cloud of curiosity drifts on one’s mind and suddenly there is something to lose.

The question arises here is that, should dreamers hold on to their dreams and be fooled by the dreams they seek or move around, be nomadic, make each day a new horizon?

Tales of Ordinary Madness

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High in the sky, with bright feathers, humming a sweet song which compliments the beautiful morning, free spirit, lost in the wonderland. This is how a free bird leads its life and everyday a new space with some new boundaries to cross and to celebrate life with new experiences.

I also want to be free, escaping the shackles of ordinary and menial life, the monotonous routine doesn’t excite me, I am a creative person, a little emotional, a little soft, life should be like art and like the flow of a brush life should change course. I crave for marvelous or excellence, to achieve the impossible and dazzle the world with it. My absurd existence should draw out a meaning to this life; happiness is top on my list, to escape from this cage and fly again. The soul is trapped with uncertainty about the future and fear of losing, I just want to run away from this melancholy prison and dive into madness.

The Wanderer

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As she stepped out in the open the glittering stars and the crimson sky made her face light up, her soul constantly seeking and craving for a new adventure, to step into the wild, feel the hustle of fresh air on her face. The scenario of unbound life filled her heart with joy.

A monotonous job or some social issues was never her concern she was more inclined towards a helter-skelter style of life, finding the meaning of life and admiring the beauty of it. The notion of cities with borders was absurd to her, the only thought she had was to get away, explore the things which god has placed around the world, this was her ultimate endeavor. She felt rejuvenated by new experiences; her search for happiness was not human companionship but to seek beauty in nature that made her happy. Her only dream was to seek new land, unravel the mysteries, never settle down, be a nomad, experience the ways of life and the only thought she had was to get away.

Her never ending journey and her love for the road, to travel far and conquer the world with her grace, the wanderlust had gripped her soul.

I call her  …”The Wanderer”

Rumi # Quotes # Writer # Ambiguous pool of thoughts

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right-doing,

there is a field. I’ll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,

the world is too full to talk about.

Ideas, language, even the phrase each other

doesn’t make any sense”

Rumi

Mankind has two options, to go with good or evil but sometimes the choices are not easy and everything is not “black” or “white” and the ambiguous path to glory has a thick layer of fog which makes the visibility to suffer. The conflict in the mind makes it difficult to choose between the two but the in the middle of black and white there lies an escape route which is referred to as the grey area. I feel writers find this grey area easily and the thoughts of a writer have the power to divert mankind to greater good. This is the paramount true.

Darkness Galore

dark_moon_by_martasyrko-d6srely_FotorWhen we get tired of the pain and suffering which follows us like our shadow, the mind gets exhausted. Hurting the ones we love or inflict pain on others gives us satisfaction; it’s like an ethereal trophy to keep beside us. But at some point of time when the pain gets excruciating we just go into little imaginary spaces and disconnect from the outside world leaving us numb, numb to any situation, numbness to the world. All the emotions just vanish into thin air and numbness becomes a virus spreading inch by inch until it covers our whole body. We always think pain is the worst feeling but this numbness and eternal silence inside me has created a hole leaving us hollow. We would do anything to feel pain again, to feel something.