words unsaid - lumps of raked up thoughts choked forever in his numb throat words cooked up, for fine occasions, or for somber days; words never uttered for want of admiration; for the fear of admonition; words stacked safely in his head spilling into his now quiet larynx; wanting to get out - without the Maker's will! words, gathering dust, cobwebs and husk - words laid to rest to rust in his bloody throat; put to waste to wither far away beyond his forgotten existence.
16-8-2020 12:15p.m. Lying on the bed like a corpse Popping up your thoughts in my mind As if the whole universe seems to be dark But every atom of your soul lighten me Loneliness lingers with me As if I am an old friend of isolation The sky above my head has changed its tone My wildness drives you crazy But what happens in - between that resists you? Is this because I lose my sight? Is this a reason to walk away from me? Yet I will be waiting for you, Is letting you in my life, a mistake? Without you, the world seems to be a kaleidoscope Twinkling stars in the sky reminds of us That we vow each other to spend our days When we will have lines in our face! Loneliness in the twenty-first century Burst it into via social media in forms of status, for some For few, by socially detoxifying And for a handful of people, they write a note on self-destruction Crumbling inside, As if fading away every sensation Hardly having any guts to see own reflection in the mirror The throbs of losing my favorite person Tranquilize my existence These autumn nights witnesses many nightmares As we have marooned our home Is this because of rust in our hearts? Are we too late to forgive? Can you hear the shriek of the broken vase? But I too sob silently behind veils Lying with my pale face Followed by dark circles below my eyes Sometimes in the mid-day gazing the ceiling Sometimes in the midnight replaying your thoughts and replies in the back and pause mode You're my never-ending musings Where I rarely rhymes But the rhythm flows in my blood Your sugar-coated words leave me perplexed I remember you I remember us The happy "we" What distract you away from me? I wish we never created the bond of friendship And when this friendship turns it into adhesive "LOVE" Barely I can recall Do you remember that we both are helping each other to heal? But this art of healing makes me fall for you At the end isolation embrace me With stilled lips and distress This loneliness emptied the chambers of my heart #leena_unsaidwords#loneliness#sob#me#you#rust#autumn#marooned#home#heart#face#liveless#isolation#muse#back#screenplay#silent#midnight#wrinkle#pod#writersnetwork#readandunite#promise#nightmare@jiya_khan@malay_28
showered in the scarlet glow, the windows awe at the sun. it's dusk or is it dawn? who cares? not the old centenarian occupying his throne, maybe his last companion, the old rusty wheelchair with a squeaky tryst.
he sits motionless with a blank stare, caressing the arm of his wheelchair, and rust sprinkles on the floor. does it count the passing time? painted white, like the clouds, the stares aren't blank! the man could fly, and crash into the sea? but today, he occupies his throne, the old rusty wheelchair.
will he ever blink, or the ghastly visions from the crash will haunt him forever? and he dares to blink? it's a nightmare, a minute long. he sees a metal bird fly, propelling through the clouds, racing the birds to the shoreline, and crash! clueless, as he occupies his throne, the old rusty wheelchair.
he strokes the wheel, away from the window. with a squeaky echo, the nuts and the bolts judder, and his throne dismantles? a moment later, it's the old man facing the window, in pain, yet motionless. he crawls to the window, can he? to see a plane emerge from the dark night sky. he stares at his throne, the old rusty wheelchair, now, some metal scrap?
laying by the window, watching the planes, it's a plane parade? he murmurs, 'rust never sleeps', closing his eyes, forever? or to be woken by his daughter at dawn?
What is rust? Some decay, some fateful twist in the existence? Rust is the course of life, knotted with twisting strands of time. Rust is the realisation, that inevitable feat that every person achieves. Rust is a way of life, the freedom from a false pretense of immortality. Rust is everywhere, let it run it's course, chew on an immortal's remorse.
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On that littered floor Standing out A little, rusted leaf So quite, yet free
With Ripples flowing To drown dead Some piercing cries Some hollow dread
Ear on the forest floor You can see A ripple, another wave Kissing the shore, so sure
Foolish human What do you seek? Another symphony? A dark treat? Let me show you That melancholic tar A twisted melody To rust the chains, rust you free.