Hope

If you listen to this sadness,

you’ll find a soothing rhythm,

a lullaby waiting to be sung,

the one that’ll finally put you to sleep.

When you touch the pieces of this broken heart,

you’ll find they aren’t as sharp as you made them out to be.

Yes, they make you bleed,

but would you rather not bleed out the sadness

than let it flow through your veins?

They call it melancholy,

for they do not know the reasons behind why you’re always bleeding.

If they ever bothered to listen,

they’d find the lyrics to a hauntingly beautiful song,

in the cadence of your heart.

Of moutains and lakes and clear reflections

​Someday when you a wake up to a gorgeous view with mountains and lakes and clear reflections, I hope you’re able to enjoy it without a care in the world. I hope you forget all your worries and regrets in that moment. I hope your wounds would have healed by then and your brokenness would have been fixed, if only by band-aids or hastily applied clay. Or maybe, just maybe, you’ll have someone beside you to enjoy this view with. Someone who might be the perfect fit to fill that gaping hole you’ve been walking around with since so long. Someone who will take you up into the clouds and who knows how to fly even with all the baggage you’ve been carrying around. I hope you wake up to a gorgeous view, with mountains and lakes and clear reflections and I hope you have that someone right next to you, smiling lazily at you while you take in the wonders of the world and I hope that someone thinks, “Who wants the world when I have this one sitting right next to me?”

Of loneliness and agony.

Lost between the pages,
I kept waiting for someone to come find me.
It was ages before there was a knock on the cover,
And then a swish,
Like someone trying to dust off the cobwebs.
I was left on the shelves for far too long,
My pages were yellowed and moth-bitten.
The words appeared faded,
Their ink having bled out from years of loneliness.
When the cover finally opened,
The first sliver of light
Breathed life into each word,
And soon it was all sunshine and rainbows.
Alas, all good things must come to an end.
It was a beautiful day,
I was revelling in my new found happiness,
When a sharp pain hit my spine.
A crack and a rip.
My pages were being torn.
One by one.
And I yearned to be back on the shelves again.
The pain lasted until I was stripped off all my glory,
Until I had lost all sense of identity.
And then came a thump,
And absolute darkness.
The cover was closed.
I was thrown back on the shelves again.
Only this time,
There were no pages to get lost into.
Only a perpetual darkness
Haunted by demons,
And a noise,
Like pages being shred.
And I was lost.
This time, forever.

Sun colored.

Painted in the colors of the sun,

She burned down everyone who touched her.

You’d see her shining down upon you,

So bright and ethereal.

You’d want some of her light for yourself,

And you’d try to love her,

And she’ll love you back.

Trust me, she will,

Because to love is all she ever wants.

But the closer you try to get,

The harder she’ll push you away.

The world remembers Icarus

As the one that flew too close to the sun.

She, too, has a bit of a reputation herself,

For, she’s lonely and bright,

And is painted in the colors of the sun,

Known to burn down everyone who touches her.