A fiery take on corrupts,a rosy snippet on romance,a spiritual piece on life.
All the metaphors ready to strike a pose!Crave your attention!
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~ haiku ~
Man born with no purpose
Water, fire, earth, space, air and him
Its just him and none.
As I sit down on a not so bright Tuesday morning to write something hoping no one read yet would give me a source to pour my feelings.It occurs to me that that i have grown up yet am childish in a peculiar way only i can understand.The moments which made me happy and yet have the force to trouble me now as I write them.The surprise drizzling on Tuesday morning doesn't make my nostalgia feel lazy but on the contrary awakens me from my slumber. My heart's feeling heavy as i remember the day when my school reopened.I asked my mom, "Mom,why does the school reopen at a time when such a lousy morning is tempting me to sleep."Mom just rolled her eyes in disgust to my question,making her displeasure known.I immediately got up from my bed and began to think of all the possible ways of missing the first day.i thought, "Its raining cats n dogs and am praying the providence to bestow its kindness on my feeling and make it impossible for the school bus to reach our place; ...
My blood is so very tasty That it can warm your thirst like wine It can unite you brethren to fight for my demise Mobilize opinions and divide! You fail to see how powerfully poised I am, To be strong and weak at the same time. Strong enough to withstand the abuse and survive, Weak nevertheless to be hurt anytime. Words reverberate the burning passion, To speak of sickness and the subject of becoming a constant pain, Delirious and senile, helpless and quite frankly, a concubine! However, disillusioned enough to think about power in sacrifice. My blood is so very lusty, You would want to have more of me, Beat me up and devour every piece you see, Your love must be so surreal, like your greed! I am so very mesmerized by your actions, That I rave about you to my colleagues, Who feel your actions are just and well justified, That I should be grateful I am worthy and my purpose, defined! My blood's red, Like the rose, However, I never grew, Once you plucked...
As I grow up I realize we are growing up and falling down, Sun that rises high and sun that falls down, Waves gushing, waves surrendering, Lives pushing, love dying, I wonder who all are winning? But is there enough time? Tell me there is for I see no pause, Its mundane, the dichotomy of living two faces while seeing none, Not a moment's lore to hear the tales, the introspection to change, Bearing me, its only me, who will find 'I' and only 'me'. Its the 'i' tune, Its 'my' book, Hear that voice, hear ego tell, Tale tinkering tragic trap. Moment's silence draped by sulky dreams, broken beams, Wind that passes by surprisingly, blows with fists, There is nothing good for its obsessive to not appreciate, For there is a fall, there is no rise, there is an 'I', where there is no 'Us'.
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