Undone.
Incomplete.
Something missing.
We think we are pieces of a puzzle,
You and I.
Faith.
Hope.
The last of our expectations.
immersed in the notion of something
that will fulfill us.
We are so intrigued with this idea
of someone
Completing us.
Healing us.
Filling us.
Sometimes I wonder…
Maybe we were born whole,
not nuts and bolts.
not a jigsaw puzzle.
nothing missing.
All things that begin
must come
to an inevitable end.
A cry of distress,
in an unfamiliar world
and hence begins life.
Some live for a 100 years
without being alive
for even
a second of it.
We are our own undoing.
Blessing or tragedy?
Stop and smell the roses,
they say.
Maybe I should
become that rose
and carry that beauty
within me.
I wish to forge
my own path.
Untethered, free and wild.
Liberated from this worldly cage,
and when Death finally finds me
may it find me alive.
The other day, I came across an African proverb : “When death comes to find you, may it find you alive.”
We spend a lot of our lives being held back by trying to become what we think others expect us to be. We let ourselves be trapped in a cage.
Our soul knows what it wants. At this very moment, it’s speaking to you. Listen. Then go do it, grab it, live it.
Something went wrong with my WP a few days ago, and this got posted before I was done editing it. I removed it as soon as it happened, but a few of you had already read it and left comments. I’m sorry I had to delete that post because it just wasn’t ready. This is the final and improved version!
We carry the universe within
We are the cosmos
stardust in the veins,
a collection of dead stars.
Splendor and magnificence flowing
light seeping through each pore.
Shackles of gravity chasing us
our being chooses to be untethered.
Nothing but a hoard of ordinary atoms
bound by opulence and beauty.
Our actuality is ephemeral
in the perpetual history of time.
We carry the universe within
We are the cosmos
until we wash away into oblivion
cessation of life – nothingness.
The “what ifs,” the “could have beens”
cloud my thoughts and actions.
Forevermore.
They’d come back, I was told
to haunt me.
Regrets.
I go back in time
I choose differently this time.
Another chance.
I live in the past
The present drifts away.
Another mistake.
Now I am thinking
about “what was but will never again be”
Torment.
To have something
only to lose it.
Tragic.
My heart’s greatest desire
Became ghosts in the shadows.
Irony.
what hurts more
“what ifs” or “what weres”
Another question.
The past is a deadly place to live in
I wish I could tell my younger self.
A warning.
Lessons I learn, consequences I face
Forward, I hope I move.
Forevermore.
I sit here in silence
surrounded by the echoes
of who we used to be.
I sit here in silence
This Darkness is my companion
how did it get ahold of me?
I sit here in silence
The memories of our past
clasp my throat; I am choking.
I sit here in silence
The tears of your love
in my eyes, are blinding me.
I sit here in silence
There’s a void inside of me
it’s where your promises used to be.
I sit here in silence
Dealing with the aftermath
of an epic love. Your love.
I breathe in. I breathe out.
Inhale. Exhale.
The breeze stopped blowing,
whispering secrets no more.
Stood still in awe
of the paradise around.
Yearning to shine bright,
the North Star, faintly visible,
took its first breaths
of that stellar night.
Red and Orange mingled.
The horizon was a death bed,
the mighty Sun lay on it.
One last caress.
One last kiss.
Down went the mighty Sun,
the last of its brilliance
gobbled by the Death Bed.
Night had fallen.
Eric, William and Ernest,
had all devoted their words to her.
Each syllable stirred, an innominate emotion,
each word pulled at her heartstrings.
So she set sail,
her heartsrings moulded into a mast,
her heart became the anchor
as she embarked to write about him.
‘His eyes, the colour of Earth
almost as if they dared her to venture,
to unearth the secrets they veiled
left her bewitched.
His scent intoxicated her,
reminded her of the comfort and stability
his arms offered as they engulfed her.
His heart beating in her ears.
His presence, made her heart smile,
propelled warmth into her soul
and dazzled her spirit,
promising to stay beside her.’
A single tear escaped from each eye
as she put the pen down
Each word that she had inscribed
sent a wave of sorrow.
As she mourned what could have been,
as she grieved over her loss,
as she devoted words to him
she became Eric, William and Ernest.
she perched by the window;
fog on her glasses
from the steaming mug of coffee
clutched in her hands;
eyes on the words
etched on the pages
engrossed in a world
far from ours;
leaves meandering
in the lightly blowing breeze
birds twittering in the distance;
cars racing off the highway
chasing frivolous nothings,
detached from the reality around
engrossed in a world
far from ours;
sunlight shimmering
off the crevices of her neck
tawny hair astray,
soundlessly speaking lips
devouring tales
of love and romance
engrossed in a world
far from ours.
your heart was but a beast,
a friend of the devil
that yearned to grasp
the reins of my heart.
My soul was starving,
I believed the lies you fed me
alas, you walked over my heart
until I was but a shadow
of who I used to be.
Flickering.
I dug a shallow pit
by a brook beside the green fields
to bury the memories,
the good and the bad.
I left lilies over it.
Your favourite.
Hence was the funeral
of the girl I used to be.
A familiar feeling flooded me
A chill in my bones,
I shuddered, I grimaced
anticipating the callous blow
And then all at once,
It felt cold. tyrannical. merciless.
I shuddered, I grimaced
weary of its hostility
I felt my heart beating frantically,
I heard blood rushing in my veins,
I heard my panic mocking me
as though I was powerless
A familiar feeling flooded me
A chill in my bones,
there was no escape now,
my monsters befell me
So I sat there motionless,
they finally arrived
greetings, Depression.
greetings, Anxiety.
greetings, Terror.
My Monsters.
Around him, she’d learned to dance to the rustle of leaves. He had taught her to wash away every sorrow in the first rainfall of every monsoon.
He had taught her to sing, to the cackling flames. And from him, she’d learned to comfort the howling winds.
Then one night, the celestial light had beckoned him, But she had nowhere to go. The celestial light had showed him the way, but she had lost her path.
The flames had consumed him, But they had burned a part of her too. He was everywhere, But she was nowhere to be found.
Shamelessly, she held onto that sliver of hope. The odds, ludicrously against her. Yet she stood her ground, grasping on to it. Maybe that was her strength.
Her combat had just ended, blood trickled down her skin. Clothes clung to her body, and a thousand scars adorned her form.
Yet she chose to believe, that humanity, the very one that had killed her lover and forced her to battle unknown anonymous heroes at the border was capable of warmth.
Anticipating that the end of the war would mean an end to all sufferings, she returned home, giddy with joy, only to find rubble and debris where her home was.
Dejected and in anguish, she made her way towards the young boy in the middle of the wreckage and as the toddler wrapped his little body around her leg, shrieking with joy, she knew that her sliver of hope had survived.
Whimsical Wordsmith 