5 posts
  • shreyah 10w

    "Earth and the comet"
    ( a prompt by 'amoondaisy' on insta)

    @writersnetwork @miraquill Thank you for this wonderful surprise ❤️

    POD (5) / 16-11-21


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    Behind the metaphors

    Draped in the yards of curse,
    hopes survived 76 years in valleys,
    How often do you come across
    a poetry, weaving the story of Earth
    and the comet Halley's?

    I ached like bruises of
    the moon when you threw
    the vermilion on Mars.
    Albeit, the constellation
    broke but we were more
    than the theory of stars.

    I am the pluto of your galaxy,
    I am the woman of the dead.
    Like the sacrifices of sun,
    I am white and I am red.

    What survives a tradition,
    becomes a shining star.
    What rebels against it,
    becomes a crater—a scar.

    ©shreyah || 15-11-21

  • shreyah 23w

    I had never known the
    address of f r e e d o m
    until my nation draped
    in celebration, on a day
    too auspicious to be
    revered beyond once,
    in the entire year.

    I had never known the
    address of f r e e d o m
    f i g h t e r s better than
    the foreign names, my
    history textbooks are
    stuffed with, until libraries
    leaked tears to wipe the
    dust settled on sacrifices
    and brave hearts.

    I had never known the
    address of s l a v e r y
    and perhaps, can never
    walk in shoes of the feet
    that never had one, yet
    walked 200 years with
    pride, embracing shrouds
    which soon embraced
    L I B E R T Y

    ©shreyah || 17-08-21


    @writersnetwork Thank you.
    @miraquill Thank you ❤️

    POD (4)



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    Pursuit (Talaash)

    Evolution so happened
    that 'Azadi' isn't what it was 75 years back.

  • shreyah 28w

    Poor is the smoke that distills
    out of your shimmering wealth,
    failing to sate the appetite of a
    strange stomach, crippled inside
    out, dwelling on the verge of hope.

    Poor is the celerity of your regal
    wheels that drive past a frail body
    imbrued in blood, adhering to your
    negligence and reluctance to help,
    shirking from sanity and empathy.

    Poor is the lavish robe you drape
    yourself in, which has lost respect
    for the wrinkled hands that grew
    old stuffing it with love and zest
    only for it to turn shallow with pride.

    Poor is the charm of your exotic
    language which is inept enough
    to comprehend the pangs and
    shivers, the streets radiate on a
    night–colder than your concerns.

    ©shreyah || 16-07-21


    Thank you people :")

    @writersnetwork Thank you again ♡
    @miraquill Thank you so much ♡

    POD (3)



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    (POV) erty

    Deficiency in ample.
    Poverty– an example.

    ©shreyah || 16-07-21

  • shreyah 33w

    A FAR CRY ♪

    Thirteen claw-marks of the cat
    on the black-marbled floor, who
    is apparently of a superior breed
    than I am, wipes away the marks
    of my helplessness from over the
    orthodox floor.

    Seventeen pennies over the faded
    fortune lines on my palm are never
    rich enough for me to admire the
    pistachios embedded in Picasso's
    paintings. If I would be an artist, my
    reach would be poorer than I am.

    Eighty-seven years old stooped old
    man with his inflexible spectacles
    affixed on his nose barely can see
    but considers my shadow a bad omen.
    Pristine patter of tiny feet leaves me dejected
    for I am afraid of the traits they would inherit.

    Nineteen months past, nineteen lessons
    learnt. Unfortunately, tattered huts don't
    receive letters of recovery and sick servants
    are never served back their service. Certainly,
    the elite walls would have been accustomed
    to the new set of wrinkled hands by now.
    / We demand respect from vessels
    which are brimmed with gold.

    Lunacy, isn't it? /

    ©shreyah ] $hreya || 13-06-21

    #farcry #wod

    • Written from the POV of a servant whose life and dreams collapsed under the boots of the well-heeled.

    • Pistachios are nuts (dry fruits) that offer numerous health benefits.

    Thank you everyone for showering immense love. ♡

    @writersnetwork – Thank you. :)
    @mirakee Thank you for illuminating a dull day ;)

    13-06-21– POD ( 2 )


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  • shreyah 54w

    You are like a song
    the one which reverberates
    in the soul of a valiant soldier who
    dwells in calidity and gelidity,
    survives eighteen bullets in one heart
    and intripidly stands to take another.
    ~You are the anthem of a nation~

    You are like a song
    the one which gives voice
    to the protest poetries that
    were/are written and forgotten
    amidst myriad of barbarity,
    a society perpetrates, a society braves.
    ~You ameliorate a society~

    You are like a song
    the one which my mother
    plays on her radio while she shrivels
    up her dreams under the same flame
    that wilts her fingers and cooks
    good health for her kinfolk.
    ~You raise a family~

    You are like a song
    the one which stresses on the
    dilemma of living and dying,
    stays in the rags of a wanderer and escapes
    through the luxuries of the well-heeled,
    rewinds the plight and loops the air of felicity.
    ~You shape a human~

    ©shreyah || 14th jan, 2021


    15-01-21 - First POD ♡

    @mirakee Thank you very much for the repost.❤️ ( Damn! This was completely unexpected )

    Thank you everybody for your precious comments. It really matters alot to me ❤️


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    M E L O D Y

    A song that portrays static
    picture into motional reality.