Suffocation has stopped your creativity.
Fear lingering in mind, has drained: every drop of courage; you did hold.
Blood pumping has suddenly been fastened.
And,
Heartbeat racing with time.
Your soul is dampening your courage of survival!
And, you are in point of turn.
Now
Breathe!
To the point; you are self.
Breathe!
Till the cloud of imaginary burden, vanishes.
Breathe, O Man, Breathe!
Till the last moment you are live.
It’s been long,
Days have been worse,
I started with hope, now blurry.
This sea and ship, I believed, was mine.
So I declared, to ride this tide.
How far, should I go?
When this voyage is uncertain,
And the storms are determined:
To show their majesty.
Should I return back?
As dark clouds are extinguishing, any hope of light.
Wearing costumes of:
a horror ghost,
This little fear of death, dances inside me.
Should I wait?
For these wind to calm.
This cold air freezing me into white.
Hands, shall I pray!
For God, “to come”, “save me”.
“What’s this! “, “I hear a voice! “
:
Despair and dare can’t go side by side!
I came to this journey, by my choice.
Known of: what;
how things can go.
This unmounted mountain of struggles,
I were aware.
I came with zeal of exploration.
I accepted!
All that comes,
On this way,
To see that side, I started,me sailing for.
Yes, I bow, to his mighty,
But i will play with all my might.
Yes, I pray, to the God,
But to thank, for giving me chance.
I am my own master,
Master of ship.
There was a girl,
Full of innocense,
believed her dreams.
A warrior prince, she was hoping for;
Who fights her miseries;
Takes her far:
In a world of peace, love and joy,
There was a fire, sudden at night.
Her room was locked,
Her parents cried, help!
Yet that girl, sat and smiled.
She waited, doing nothing.
When the door opened,
She was bemoaned.
Sitting by the window,
Waiting for that prince.
Closing the door,
Not crying anymore!
What a dark imagination she had!
Once what made her happy,
Today, killed her crappy.
What a believe, fated to ashes!
A utopian fantasy!
I declare!
The more you think, the worse.
As thoughts are contradictory, self and others.
Uncombined twisted meaning of conventional wisdom.
Paradoxical events binds together, in an event of cognitive dissonance.
Has been less complicated in approach; Plato has not been melted into simplicity.
Greek philosophers to Indian ancient hymns: Large canonical texts, looks impressed.
Wonder it’s been, to decode:
Thoughts, it’s origin, processed, divided.
To me, to others and to this overlapping structure of society.
This ‘thought’, has robes to change.
Rightly been said:
The less you think, the better.
Mesmerized:
by the precious gems, and jingles;
of my crown.
Many of you, raised brows and frowned.
You might be:
counting the stars of my sky, shining, much above; your ever did.
Agony of non- fulfilment might have caused:
you, bemoaning of theft.
And,
Less adamant you might be,
knowing:
Thorns in my crown
Those sleepless night, of countless efforts;
I made.
Eyes swollen, hand shivering;
body crying, “rest in need! “.
Dare I avoid!
Those Bating down.
I made those stars: glittery;
Brushing: time and time.
When you were resting, I at quest.
I choose those jwels from mine of bravest:
With armour of will, passion and writ.
Look the mockery of time,
Yet you question thorns of crown!
I adore it, from the day; I was born.
Blessed was I: to have the God.
To have mercy, to show a path.
Loved I was, it worked out, fruited sweet with dozens light.
But,
Here you go, doubting my sword!
I challange!
Wear your bestest, carry your sharpest;
Hold your shoulder tight!
Fight,
Have these scorns!
If you win,
You can own :
“This bleeding crown”.
Markets are crowded, stores decorated.
People: wearing nice clothes; seems in a hurry.
She wondered, “why?”
They say, “it’s new year eve! “.
” What’s that?”, she questioned?
“It’s celebrating togetherness, prosperity, love! “, They replied.
“Ah! That’s so”;
“It’s stupid, “, ” It’s expensive! “,
she muttered.
It’s midnight;
“It’s new year eve! “, people shouted.
Excitement, filled in air reaches her ear.
Out of window, she looked outside.
Black night with colourful sky,
Different fireworks, amazing sounds.
she smiled,
” Could it be?
My brother, seeing the same, in far land,
How he is now, it’s been years, we met.
Could it be?
my mother, have time, of her work; watch this glittering ‘thing’,
I guess.
Could it be?
my father, watching with me!
It’s too near from the sky”.
“Yet, all these are;
only in my thoughts.
I can think, but can’t feel.”
“This enthusiasm, I saw in others.
People making crazy faces;
Out of joy, with their love”.
“How lovely,
if we were together, holding hands, just like them.
I will share, my yesterday’s saved bun.”
“Of course, soup, i stole from bin,
Even little, it will fill our hear!
Of togetherness, of love”.
” Different I am,
with the rest”, “who celebrate eve”.
For her it’s eve-il,
which reminds her:
Loneliness;
Dark, silent, empty heart;
Mournful tears.
Yet,
hope in memories.
Couching her body, to avoid cold from the winter breeze;
coming with the eves songs;
silently from the cracked hole, of window.
smiling!, she goes to sleep:
“Next Eve-il“
“May be!”, “mine new years eve! “.
They say I don’t belong here.
I was daughter ‘their’s’ once.
Of this family, by blood, by love.
I grew up, they married me off!
No longer, situation is same.
“I am married”, ” I am someone else’s “.
“I don’t have the say”, ” I can’t nay! “.
Once ‘my room’, is no more, mine.
This land: I planted tree, I trimmed these grasses, now flowered, with dozen fruits.
This balcony,
I cried,in pain; I danced, in rain.
This dine:
I cooked with love, of love, for the love.
So different things have grown.
I look through window; not come inside.
I am a stranger, a passing by.
This structure of wood and bricks,
People said, ‘house’; I ‘home’.
What should I plate it now:
“My ‘ex’ parents house”.
Ego, a term used to describe: false self glorification. It covers one’s wisdom, decision making qualities, and confuses one between real and reel.
It’s as dangerous as holding a cup of poison on hand while seeking beauty of life.
Ego botcher a person’s persona. It damns ones potential and make him fall for nothing.
It may starts from few achievement by hard work, slowly man forgets this, and start believing in his super- ability;that he is great.
Confidence is seeing the relevance of fact then you believe it, while ego is turning a blind eye, while saying, ‘Aye! ‘.
There lies a thin line between confidence turning into egoistic.
One hardly understands when and where he started loosing himself.
In this situation man even ignores the warning, nature might be giving to him. Nature always forecast itself.
Ego is just like that snake in the garden of God, who made Eve fall for the Apple!.
It makes a man’s inner purity into a halo of lie, and false gratification.
That until broken, or realised man looses his identity sooner or later.
shortisokay 