The True Divinity
With every passing day, I get more and more piercings on the remains of mine. I have seen many stars vanishing in the glimmer of sunshine but a star dissolving in the darkness of night is a riddle. Dragging my alive yet dead body towards eternity, your thought is the only static thing. Your notion is a knife; stabbed in my heart giving me the pain I can’t endure, neither can remove. But bleeding internally with a small comfort that the stars you gaze on, are the stars same as I; hope glimmers once again. To gaze in a glass and see oneself is no greater mystery, but to gaze on you and see myself is divine. mirror me and I will reflect you.
The rosy sunset you admire horrifies me, for those who ain’t got no one to burn the lanterns at night, doesn’t adore it. Followed by every purple evening, is the darkest night. A night painful and lonely. Inside the trembling legs, they hide their frightened face, wishing that the night could pass quickly with a hope; A hope of sunrise.
While walking through the pathway covered with yellow leaves, the autumn scent lingered around me. This sight fascinated every visitor but for me, it was a matter of pity. These leaves once belonged to these mighty tree trunks, who stand firm even now. These leaves who covered those trunks, protected them and bore fruit for them are now lying on the earth in despair; crushing beneath my nice warm long boots, staring at the trees they smiled; a smile of farewell for those trees didn’t own them the way they did. Farewell to everyone who doesn’t owe their sincere relationships for they never deserve the warmth and embrace of your fidelity. Don’t become the leaf to some tree. Be your own bearer and you’d be free!
The ruthless standing trees with the carcasses of their leaves stood quite as the autumn breeze kissed the leaves and blew them away from the trees; to the eternity!
He hugged her with all his force caressing her legs with his warm feet. Tucking her soft furry hair streak behind the ear, he gave her a chill of affection and sensuality. Unable to speak due to heavy breath, he murmured softly touching his lips with her chapped lips and her eyes closed. Her thick black eyelashes portrayed the darkness of night and the gold shimmer of her eye-makeup gave the hint of a perfect dawn from the night darkness. He gripped her soft hand in his masculine one and shattered all the veils between them making her “his one and only” forever. Fire flames danced in the fireplace and snow sparkled brightly outside the window as they celebrated their love.
Night, let it sway.
Beauty, let it slay.
Your adorable snores, let them rhyme.
Rhyme with my heartbeat for your face glows more vibrantly every time.
Every time, I look at you sleeping,
Sleeping and feeling like I am dreaming;
With my eyes open or like I died, and again I’m breathing
Baby like this by my side, forever, just stay…
Night and Dark
I always wondered why the light defines morning and darkness remarked the night? Why isn’t its counter possible? Light depicts the goodness whereas the night represents evil. There’s a light in every halo. Either of the angles or of the hearts we possess. Darkness is another aspect than the night itself. The night is divine, it is the time when we hear the clocks ticking and witness the shadows of the demon. All those shadows under the shadow of the mightiest evil; the evil that resides inside you. We give refuge to the shadows and demons inside our inner beings. The night is just like a medium; to meditate with them. Either to let them feed upon you; making them stronger than ever or by slaying them. There is no representation or depiction in actual. Art, therefore carries no meaning but just a title, that every artist perceives differently as per the ratio of light and darkness in him.
I can see the summer breeze wading through the green crispy grass. Playing with the maple leaves, swirling beautifully amid the clouds, carving shapes out of them. In the evening, with the spectrum of dawn, solitude shatters and two oppositions meet, thus creating the perfect harmony of warm and cold breeze that quench the thirst of swaying souls, taking them to the zenith of satisfaction. On the highways at night, it dances ecstatically, making the people fall in love with the summer night as the lamps glow dim, in the spell-bound memory lane.
Strengthening up the grip of his fingertips, he held her waist with all the care and gentleness. They swayed whole night by the mighty window through which moonlight peeped in, sparkling up the floor. His razor-sharp nose tip rubbed beautifully on the silkiest skin of her neck tracing the fragrance of the ecstatic perfume she was wearing. The diamonds in her ear gave a hint of the perfect night sky which was becoming too heavy for both of them, but they swayed! Her crystal high heels moved back and forth with the same pace as the feet of her man. Holding the exploding emotions they both had inside them and they swayed like the breeze do in open fields at night when nobody’s watching. Rising up, he curled her arm and pulled her closer. Pushing up, he caressed her jawline with the index finger trapping her soul in the cage of ecstasy. Loosening up his tie, she closed her eyes, submitting herself to this male figure as she was fully aware of the desires and potentials a wild man could hold. The darkness of night and glitter of moonlight merged within each other in the same way as the gloominess of strong intentions diffuse with the beacons of acceptance making a perfect twilight.
Dying yet Beautiful?
Slow down your pace darling, she whispered as her cold lips kissed my forehead for the last time. This world, it’s really cold out there. It’s strange that autumn is the most cherishing time whereas it is a time of death. Strange isn’t it? Autumn is beautiful because everything is at the peak of its selfishness, representing the best of itself. It is a season of freedom, the freedom of sincerity from the fake or unwanted relationships. Farewell to love always have been difficult. It had burnt the fire in many hearts; the fire of solitude. The rigid egos and duality standstill with the dead bodies of sincerity and love; silhouetting their departure so that they can welcome the new ones.
He always considered himself to be very sophisticated and rigid. But inside the concrete walls of the fort of his territory, he had a soft heart. Confusions dominated his thoughts as the shimmering nail paint of this very girl gave him an adrenaline rush. Time was passing behind the curtains of the night making his wolverine heart falling for the pastel colors of butterfly wings.
Dusk till Dawn
Scratching the wall of past we carve our future. Little do we know what it would look like when the time would come. Sometimes, the things we care the most are easily desolated by our own hands; unintentionally. The reason behind is that the precious things always come with a “handle with care” tag; extremely fragile and delicate.
Nobody comes to this world with an inbuilt programming of how to live a good life. We are all amateurs and are looking for the Polaris of our life. We emerge from the nebula of difficulties and if we do survive, we become the sun; a bright and shining source of guidance and warmth for others. Else, The light of our conscience fades away like the asteroids that wander in the sky as a sink; in search of light which, upon collision or while surpassing other planets, causes trouble and agonies for them.
Clusters of thoughts on the mind but don’t know how to say it. While the things we do say, sometimes we never mean them. Sinning without regrets but who knows when the burden of our sins become heavy on our shoulders.
Let it be, Live it, make it to the end. Be a warrior rather than a victim of this multitasking strategy before getting leveled up with the piles of sand in the longest wavelength of the dawn.
Human, Nature and Art blends in perfectly giving a sheer product. Sometimes we are like a free verse; having an ultimate desire to rhyme with the wind chimes and dance the night away. We look for the beautiful souls and the scent of forest diffused in Zephyr. At the other times, we are the closed couplet that disdains the other facets of life and imparts an utter restraint from vivacity of life. We confine ourselves in our darkest attics, celebrating winter blues; forgetting that there is a way downstairs, leading to the brightest sunshine and the soothing moss.
People say that fairies embrace the ancestry
With their affection and sprinkles the fairy dust,
Thus creating the perfect spell casting beauty,
When a girl is born in a home,
Clocks ticked, as she hit her full bloom.
The fairy dust vanished somewhere.
Her wrist got the grip of many, many eyes on her.
Still, nothing made her quiver.
To the women out there,
None could make you feeble.
Neither men or any situation is more powerful than your will.
So take a stand, if not for yourself, for the femininity.
Submitting herself to her masculine another half,
She utters nothing and quit complaining.
Still, she is considered weak and feeble,
Wondering why she spent many nights.
Months of agonies and the pain she bore,
Does any other creation have this capability?
Screaming and crying out of labor.
Stop judging yourself and doubting your abilities.
Amid the world so grim,
Her days were passing as the dismay rhyme.
From the shadows, she emerged like fire,
Proving the world wrong.
Her eyes shone bright like sapphire.
The blaze in her eyes burnt many empires.
The pain she bore and the tortures she feared,
Are no more there, her screams are over.
The girl who used to love being called snow-white,
Raised her standards to Cleopatra and Aphrodite.
Flapping birds we are all, endeavoring to elude and fly away from
the cage we are captivated in; fly away up so high, high up to the sky, past
by the massive mountains and twinkling snow caps, above the green
meadows and the breathtaking lakes and oceans, glide in the velvety
clouds and the carpet of soothing moss. Fluttering the waves with my
fingertips, I want to wade along the sparkling seas, Drift with the winds,
touch the glint of sunshine and indulge in the frostiness of moonlight.
We are all gypsies in the world of our own thoughts and desires.
Grueling to light up the fire so that we can share the warmth amongst
many freezing bodies, trembling hands and startled glances as ours.
We are the sculptors, carved by others. Each carver engraves a different expression on our face. Frown on the face but the lips are smiling alluringly. A blaze in the eyes but a glimpse of lust in the gaze.
What about us? What about all the plans that end in the disaster? What about love? What about trust? Oh, Engraver! I put my trust in you. The heart burns and the mind aches badly. The heart brisked out of the chest, sonance of crashing auras and bosom echoed roaring with each and every impression you etched on my face. I died the day I was created, Oh Sculptor!
Finally, she got her life going just as she imagined it to be. It was just like a perfect autumn evening in which scent of husk and wood lingers around. She looked up from beneath her dense lashes that the horizon was covered with haze. Taking continuous steps, she stood at the edge of her life’s cliff. The beauty was so sheer and naked that emerged as the mist of confusions and obstinacies faded away from the horizon. Sun bloated fire and clouds cried the tears of pink sparkle. It was the perfect dusk of her life. Dropping off the silk gown she wore, plunged into the depths of fidelity and immortal joy. Difficulties are a part of life but she was clever to know that this will end one day giving her the best out of it. She waited patiently and kept moving. Life gave her the excellence and then, she was unstoppable!