Grid View
List View
  • ablaze_writer 4h

    The act of disappearing

    I was surrounded by darkness, well actually i prefer it the absence of light gives me a way to think more about a person i am, and as the clock struck 12 i made my way to the source of buzz only to witness the specks of tiny lights passing by. They must be someone's hometown, someone might be in love with that place and someone might be leaving that place with a heavy heart just like i am leaving but not with the heavy heart though.
    I have had my sets of happiness and misery, so i don't complain much, but it might have been nice to have someone see me off, ask me when i will be back, telling me to call them once i reach my destination.
    And by "Destination" i actually now realise that i don't have one, i just boarded the train to run away from my problems.
    Which haunt me every now and then, well they scare me more than the demons under my bed. And i had to run away, not that they will not come back for me. I know they will, they always do just like a boomerang coming back to the owner who threw it away. They tear each part of me and i am in pain for i don't know how many days. People romanticise problems as a way to being onset for something great but why do we wish upon something that makes us endure this hunger games.

    So, tonight i decided to disappear into far away land, set myself on journey i don't know about. Not that anybody will care but why do i care about somebody caring. I just wish that someday i will turn into one of this places where someone will belong, someone will be happy to come back and someone will leave with a heavy heart.

    @writersbay #creafic

    Read More


  • ablaze_writer 4d

    How to write a poem?

    Wait until the darkness takes over the light in this world and maybe your heart too.
    Think of the ways the world has wronged you
    The pieces of innocence you left over period of time
    Parts of you still intact in the fragile body which still pain excruciatingly when your eyes meet the love in other pairs.

    Remember the first time someone made you smile so bright that you wanted that day to last forever and sky to be filled with rainbow's each time the other one smiled. And the other day they left you in the middle of love maze, making it hard to find way back to who you were or what you wanted to become.

    Open your diary,
    Put in the date or don't, it doesn't matter
    Write poetries in boundaries
    Where there is no point in pinpointing the times
    Cause poetries aren't bound by archaic definitions.

    Close your eyes and enter into the world which you wish never existed.
    Witness the fall full of love,
    Winter embraced in warmth,
    Summer full of rain.

    Now look at the parts of you scattered on the slaughtering table labeled under -
    And many more
    Choose one to write on, cut through it
    Let the blood stained metaphors splash all over you
    Find the Crushed bones and similes study their death
    Check if their is life in the structure or is it just void overwhelming emotions you felt once,
    Listen to the sobs, screams you silently let flow when this specific part was being cut through
    Chiseled words,
    Burning rage,
    Empty eyes,
    Write until you feel empty,
    Don't you worry about the rhymes
    They always find their way,
    Pent out thoughts like there is
    no tomorrow which will come
    and no today which will end.

    And once the heart feels empty
    There are birds chirping, sunflowers dangling,
    Sunrise anticipating the end of darkness,
    Moon smiling proudly at the mess you created,
    Sky looking like a pallette of colours to paint your day,
    Find the closure,
    Close the door to opposite world,
    Draw out curtains,
    Get back to reality, and
    Put a final full stop.


    Just look at the reflections in mirror,
    Find the hope in your eyes
    Make it your muse,
    For you have been surviving through
    Fall of love, winter of warmth and summer of rain
    What more is an unannounced storm.
    Just look at you and write,
    Find that long lost smile
    And put it into your heart and

    #arspoetica #wod
    @writersnetwork @mirakee

    Read More


  • ablaze_writer 1w

    We are just kids waiting for better days

    What good day it is  to give up on something precious just like the daydreams i had when i was seven
    I wanted to be a doctor the other day an engineer
    but now that I am someone, i want to be defined as no one
    Year after year passes and poems in my diary are bickering over how changed for a person i have become,
    And now i selfishly smile upon them, cause they relieve my burden.
    Now should i confess that my life has become a series of doing things which are normal,
    Would they believe that I am the same person trying to put belief in other's,
    Is there any procedure to salvage the sins i have done
    Making people believe life is good when i am on the edge to lose it all over?
    They all are silent at midnight hours,
    When i turn page over page they silently demand answers,
    Just like yesterday, i try to fit my explanations and they smile down on me knowing the truth forefront
    I remember a daydream i had when i was seven
    Can't stop smiling over how ambitious of brat i was once,
    putting down another line on the last poem

    "We are all kids, waiting for better days to come once."

  • ablaze_writer 1w


  • ablaze_writer 1w


  • ablaze_writer 2w

    The bedtime stories turned life lessons,
    Cheeky polaroids with makeup which was hassle,
    Skills of a five year old still prevalent in twenties,
    Gazing at sky, talking to the moon,
    Scribbling poems of daydreams at noon,
    Bad at painting sunflowers and butterflies,
    Stored are this memories in time capsule of my
    Life line.


  • ablaze_writer 2w

    Why my mother sleeps with a dagger below her pillow?

    Warm skin against cold floor
    Blood dripping through veins originating chaos
    Thousand eyes gathered to witness
    Yet another slaughter
    Of dreams drapped in white lilies and yellow sunflowers
    Archaic dagger sitting still in her hands
    Piercing thoroughly through flesh
    Like it's a meant to be place

    Cold body against velvet liquid
    Dripping rhymes of daydreams
    Thousand eyes admiring Crushed white bones
    Of dreams which once were full of hope
    Silvery dagger still in flesh
    Letting the echoes of pain silence them
    Yet another night has passed and
    the moral of story is still to be drawn...

    Thousand eyes evacuated the place
    Someone close froze the flesh
    White lilies which have turned red
    Stood there as symbolism of revenge
    Drew closer the deep breaths
    And woke me up from a
    Slumber which was disdain

    I look into her eyes they are still warm and alive
    For i might never be able to pinpoint
    The slaughter which happens each night
    What might be its cause?
    As She carefully cuts each new part
    Telling me to hush the silent screams
    She likes to be called
    A R T I S T
    Of my lowely life
    She thinks i should be
    P A R T
    Of her for rest of my life.
    It might be other way around
    She cuts through
    D R E A M S
    Which weren't originally mine
    Piercing through
    V E I N S
    Which are sinister and full of pride
    Turning the lilies
    R E D
    Reflecting my past mistakes

    I might slip my time through
    same dream for eternity for-

    She is an atheist who believes in love
    She is a warrior who beguiled the war
    She is a prey waiting to be seen
    She is a chaos in still thunderstorm
    She is a magician which world will never understand
    Someday i might ask my mother-
    Why do you sleep with that dagger?
    And listen to yet another beguiling answer......


    @writersnetwork @mirakee

    Read More


  • ablaze_writer 3w

    Place's To Nostalgia

    1. The old post office at the turn of road, still standing there yet abandoned. The letter's of lover's /Parents/Friends are now discarded one's. The emotions still smell like a first summer.

    2.The library I spent my childhood at. The genres which changed with my age and a bunch of 100 books checked out under my name.

    3. The old tree which bloomed enough flowers for a group of friends to spend their summer evenings collecting them by heart only to forget that joy when numbers of years pass by.

    4.The house of my long lost best friend which once was a spot we gathered to share our secrets and made "will never forget you pacts" I hope she remembers that.

    5.The candy shop at end of road, which is missing that old grandpa who used to give me candies whenever i got any ranks.

    6.The playground which no more has any player's hiding or seeking other's, just heaps of leaves trying to imprint memories of forever.

    7.The terrace which seems to be a nice spot to read leaving all the worries just like a summer of sixteen.

    8.The room which my grandfather left a thousand hypothesis with. His handwriting still intact wishing me congratulations for getting the first rank.

    9.The cat family which grew and shrink in front of me. Sometimes humans can be cruel than demons indeed.

    10. The path which leads to silence at dawn, letting me think about life through different perceptions at all.The one where I see fading moon and rising sun guides my soul to little unknown joys of this world.

  • ablaze_writer 3w

    Finding a surprise

    On a bright summer noon
    I left my home
    For I was in search of something
    Which can't be found if you are looking
    I was wondering if I could get a surprise
    But nothing seemed to work
    And my tired soul made its way to the

    On a starry moonlit night
    I left my abode
    For i was in search of someone
    Who can decipher the secrets of this world
    I was wondering if i could meet an unknown
    But no one crossed the path
    And i found myself again at my

    On a chilly winter morning
    I left a note
    For i will come back after decoding my existence
    A verse or a novel which tells me whereabouts
    Of my other one
    But no verse can decode what i ought to know
    Soon I was tearing apart that

    On a rainy evening
    I decided to stay
    For i no longer wanted to meander around
    In search of self
    Or someone who knew secrets
    Neither wanted to get a surprise
    Nor did i wanted to know earthly whereabouts
    Thoughts stirring in my mind
    I couldn't decide where to go
    You whispered-

    "Just go
    Visit the stars,
    Stare the sunflowers,
    Look into your reflections,
    Find yourself among verses of old songs,
    Mark every map,
    Decipher the unknown facts,
    Cause you will find me always here
    Opening my arms
    To secure your tireless thoughts..... "

  • ablaze_writer 4w

    Sinister Prayers

    As the affair of lonely moon with infinite stars plays up in the midnight, and the letters in front of me make up

    As Goethe said-
    'Everything is a metaphor.'

    I wonder if this life is too. You scoot beside me asking thousands of questions and I can't make anything of them to answer, for I know that answers change over time. With each passing moment we all change
    the flow of air, the blood flowing in our veins, the meaning of letters crafted on blank pages and emotions which seep through heart.
    But all i want is a moment for us to be true to ourselves. For you to remove that facade of happiness over your face when i can see through the naked emotions your eyes portray. And for you to see that we are not what we were used to be once.
    If this life is a metaphor, i want it to be a tragic one. The one which can be broken in half. Which when you first read the first half seems happy and the other one contradictory. But as you grow through the life one day you'd understand what seemed happy was sad always and what seemed sad was complementary.
    If some day a red moon appears and wants me to commit the sins i prefer. I'd wish to remove your existence. I might be portrayed cruel but I'd like to know what it feels to survive without love. What do desires make up when there is no way to accomplish one. I'd like to freeze those wishful dandelions you plucked and wished on for our 'Forever'.
    For I'd like to see the death of myself and poetries i create with a void in words.

    Just like the silvery moon up there you smile with your eyes, a deep one and lean in closer, whispering a departure. And again i wish on the words

    "If life was a metaphor make it a tragic one. "

    Been reading Haruki for too long. So, i am in love with metaphors.
    #metaphors #sinisterprayers

    Read More

    "If life was a metaphor make it a tragic one."