The time that when I spend with the inner me,
when the dust of chaos rests in the tranquil silence,
wanes like the moon, the mist of perplexity,
when I am only mine, the moment I truly live, in essence.
Foam of worries surface on the waves of thoughts hitting me hard,
like a phoenix I burn and emerge endlessly, thinking what's in my card,
dams of smiles I hold intact all day long to be pleasant,
floods my pillow with tears when sharp razor like moon light causes a dent.
The crochet of dreams I weave all day with utmost care,
nights I spend to detangle the knots caused by my fate,
trying to not lose the needles of hope and prayers,
asking him to shield me, safeguard me from my dream-slayers
This Is the time when I feel I stand in front of my creator,
to present the petals of confession and gratitude in his feet, the ultimate emperor,
when I question myself about the real worth of what I achieved as a defeater,
scaling with what I lost in the battle, my happiness, my peace, my temper.
It's the time where I let my bounded self to carelessly wander,
in the lanes of past where Chrysanthemums of my youth still didn't wither,
till the chariots of dreams ride my soul back to the roads of present,
So that rest of the night in the world of sub consciousness, can be spent.
Have you ever seen something extremely enormous? stooping down gracefully in search of the drops of solace, to fetch a kiss from it's mirror image, the heavenly gorgeous, though they can't touch each other, but they seem to embrace.
Striving since ages, they cease to forego or surrender, they agitate, sometimes in form of cyclones or quakes, sometimes as lightening or thunder, but the tales of their love are least spoken about or narrated, the mirage of their amalgamation, the skies and oceans, I fall for, is the most underrated.
Their love is pious and pure, exquisitely scenic is the illusion, to be beheld in astonishment, is their collision, their unison, painting the wall of eternity with the message of love even in distance, that can survive without the sense of touch, is only true love, in essence.
wordsofpragyaWow!! Beautiful lines.Your words are magical.✨You can publish your writings in a book. I'm compiling an anthology named, "SHADES OF NIGHT". Dm me on Instagram: @wordsofpragya .....If you want to be a co-author in this book to rewrite your own stars. You'll get many special rewards.
FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @thymemoirs poem; Write a tercet about broken heart.
Sometimes, there are instances that we fell out of love. Automatically, regret follows. It is either you let go or you fight for your love. If you are currently facing this situation, I wanna make you remember 3 things: 1. Know your worth 2. It is not always about love 3. Choose what's the best for you.