Begin Again

Silly heart,why didn’t you take notes when i said he was just another wretchedness waiting to nip you?

That he was just another catastrophe laded like a fantasy.

Couldn’t you stanchly brace yourself from the pain of knowing him?

The way he made you feel the beauty you longed to be.

Oh heart, why did you get keyed up beyond measure to endure what you had warily gated long back?

Mustn’t you had the nerve to muster your wayward thoughts that welled nothing but love

Perhaps you wouldn’t have reckoned heartbreaks as an undervalued conviction.

But hush darling! Don’t you hear my lifeless heart reeking in pain?

Still calling out your name as its greatest hello and saddest goodbye.

Off the dust honey,can’t we begin a beginning ?

Can’t we begin again like we have seen the Sun rise afar the darkest hour?

Can’t we begin again like we are the sole stars that shine bright above in the sky?

Can’t we begin again like we are the bearing of an ocean that never gets drained of kissing the sand?

Can’t we begin again like we are nothing but strangers presaging love?

Can’t we begin again like we are art that are hung on vaulted walls epitomized for its splendor?

 Can’t we begin again like we are atoms scheming the gist of life,vocalizing love from warped wits?

Can’t we begin again like we are sanity and lunacy wrapped into one fine speck of wonder?

Can’t we begin again like we are life and death kissed into need,unhurried?

Can’t we begin again like we are admissions of guilt never meaning to be told again?

 Oh darling, can’t we begin a beginning like we saw the saw the end of us?

 

The Mind Salver : What My Wounded Soldier Needs To Know

 

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I don’t  promise that this anecdote can be wrapped up into something unforced which a pervasive trespasser  will immediately comprehend .But I chose to go halves about it because something about it doesn’t settle impeccably into myself . The idealist in me might long to call it a ‘forceful’ prose which the papyrus can’t handle, yet something about it demands to felt; to be examined thunderously by those spirits who lost themselves in the course of surviving in this rather dim witted world.

Yes You! What are you mauling about? Do you still in vain fancy that some of us are mere fools who can’t see right through your pretence?  I can make out that you are wounded, no matter how much your shaking body might protest. I know that your pain cannot be explained by metaphors or articulacy either. I turn ashen every time you beam to my face, cause the recline is too much to take. You might trade lie for truth, but Hush darling! Doesn’t it ever get into your thick skull that truth doesn’t have versions and that; it is the only thing that can set you liberated? Have you not noticed that your words find a guilt accord when it ends; spirit against paper like fish out of water?

You might be too much for some, too little for the rest, but how that they truthfully make out from the brief period of knowing you that you’ll never have a middle ground! Yes that’s the way you are.”Fierce.”And my wounded child, what are you scared about? They might break you, taunt you, and heave neglect against you until you forget the difference between love and hate; like you are the only man under the Sun to have made a mistake. But their obscurity can never cast a shadow on you unless you let them. Life is tough darling, but believe me when I say   you are tougher than life is.

I offer you no excuses but I might choose to remain hushed when you still think it’s acceptable to let the tenderness overtake your bliss. Maybe I’ll even share your blame and wear it like an apology. Why you ask? Because the finest tales are written backwards, maybe that’s the only way I can keep you with me. Can’t you think of my contemplation as bliss? Would you think I’m selfish because I want to save you from the pain of knowing me? Would you hate me for It.?  Because the skin I wear maybe of calm but my armor is made of chaos. I might be a lost star looking for her light, but when you are ready, I’ll come into your life and propose you an entire galaxy when you anticipated a single planet. Because I’m the girl with the strength of a damsel who wears her own pain like diamond around her neck. I have the heart of a poetess with fire in her eyes.

Now that I’ve met you.

Can’t you stop chasing your pain with whiskey?

Stop being the thief to hide behind a facade?

But, be a flare of hope in a gushing world of despair

Be a hero a in the strife.

 

The Little Girl

Autumn

And in the silence that surrounded her, she kept thinking how long she had to bear it all, bear the pain that kept wounding her soul everyday. But sitting alone in the wilderness that kept her company, she couldn’t but complain for she was growing accustomed to her twinge.

She wondered whether her life would’ve been any different if she let others peek-a-boo at the glorious battle which she kept fighting every day. But she knew she had no turning back , she was yet to slide in to eternity. The pain of her heart was rhythmic to the slow yet tenacious downpour that fell. But she felt numb, cold even . And as she waited for her last breathe , it dawned her that she was just another Hennessy in a tea cup.

And so she woke up from a dream which she thought she never could. The glory was met with the new dwindle of hope that evaded her soul. Cause she was the little girl who was yet to turn her dreams to her revenge. The girl with small hands and big eyes who never stopped asking for more. And yes, she was more than ready to paint the solar system on her back. Or so a phenomenal end .