A hieroglyph (Greek for "sacred carvings") was a character of the ancient Egyptian writing system. Logographic scripts that are pictographic in form in a way reminiscent of ancient Egyptian are also sometimes called "hieroglyphs".
You may embrace the scarlet envelopes and not not the letter dressed in white but it is the letter which is the memoir of a loved one. The Taj Mahal is one such memoir and the history of the memoirs in general.
Everyone has seen Mona Lisa and her smile is a spectacle. The painting hangs on the wall the walls are peachy in contrast to the painting.
There is a portrait of the sun breathing the dust at the horizon; it was morn, sharp 5:00 then and now 10:00 at night. The night sky stares at the ocean While the waves blink in silence.
Pointing out a lamp back then, I thought it was moon until I knew that moon is a pale face engraved with scars and there are stars at her threshold, they are job holders in constellations.
If you have lost trust in forever, I would take you to the caves of Ajanta Wherein Epics are Immersed in the ink of eternity And love echoes with the sonnets of solemnity. Each carving is an intimate artistry of aspirations And the hymns of the yore Play in the background, to be heard till the distant shore
Tis a long read ___________________________________________________
Inspiration~ "But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his bars of rage his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing." ~ Maya Angelou ___________________________________________________
ᴛʜᴇ ʟ(ᴀ/ᴏ)ꜱᴛ ꜱɪɢʜ
When she sings aloud in a pitch too high Humans would cater nearby Witness her with growing joy Hear her chirp,with joyous plight.
For it's not the same,Not for her, Not in this silver rimmed cage. For she swam along the rimless sky Before she was tricked by a human hand.
Bleak her voice is,she realised Cried too hard, of solemn denies. But human ears felt no pain They heard the murmur, and made their child listen to them.
She did hide all salty waters behind her eyelids Continued singing with all probable symphonies She chirped a gospel of her life Highlighting the ironies of time.
Of a time she crashed among the winds And of a time she was hit by the bar of steel A time when her features coloured the achromic sky And of a time when her wings could barely move by.
Of a time when she took care of her kids,made nests and visited her relatives And of a time when she knew only men,their trades and business,she was homeless Of a time she danced on the lucid rains And of a time ,she received two bowls of water and grain in a day.
Her thoughts again clamping her The sight of the bars, triggering high pressure She shooks a bit and cries to hard Twas for the last time.
Her shrieking voice inaudible Her weary wings stagnant with fear Her teary eyes closing Fighting against the long lost memories.
Of the diving into sky Racing with the winds Making friends with clouds. Gossiping with the trees, thanking them by their adorning sweet chirping.
All lost in moment, All lost in a shrug All emotions void After singing the last sigh.
#monumentc Maybe not the Cinderella you wanted! But taged you because @writersbay this is a monument I tried to build in rememberance of the bird that was once free and now deceased for all those inhuman activities shower on it.