Grid View
List View
Reposts
  • redstrings 3w

    I have questions,
    A big heavy pile of them.
    And a lot of context,
    Missing its arms or legs.

    I suppose I make no sense,
    Well nothing I feel or think does.
    After a random enmity with lies,
    Truth appears to be unproven deceit.

    But do I need the truth to survive?
    One can argue to infinity,
    With how & what along a sigh of why,
    And atlast, a tired - "When will it end?"

    Still I will have questions,
    A big, heavy & dusty pile of them.
    And a lot of random facts,
    Missing their entire sense in context.

    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 6w

    So desperate have I become,
    To forget that all I know is to run,
    Away from you, Away from us,
    Away from the world.

    ©redstrings

    I wonder since when my laughter,
    Has started to sound so bitter,
    So empty yet taste like too much salt.
    Did I really meant to stretch my cheeks?
    Or was it mere routine I couldnt let go of.

    I think I have loved enough to get used to it,
    How to bring stars & flowers in my eyes,
    And then look at other person for some time,
    While my teeth hang in air & breath climbs up the stairs.
    Again & again.
    I do wonder if I look alive in your eyes.

  • redstrings 6w

    From flower to leaf

    How much do I envy you,
    How much will I ?
    So at peace with your mediocrity,
    Who will even bother to gaze at you?
    Looking so happy with a mere sigh of wind,
    I mean who does even laugh so simply so easily,
    Aren't you too gullible?
    Do you think this crowd of yours will spare you the storm?
    Do you?

    Well maybe it will.
    I mean who will steal someone as common as you.
    Who will bother to touch you with love in their eyes?
    And then kill you in their grip, as they dance around.
    There are not many that are lucky to die of beauty you know.
    But who wants to die so quickly.
    Who does?

    Why are you so stubborn?
    Listening to mere corpse used to decorate the words.
    And those humans, drowning me in their misery,
    Who even cares about their love?
    And why do you look same even after all these seasons.
    Same old triteness embracing your veins,
    Merely changing your colors, doesnt mean you are not you.
    I mean look at you, still laughing stupidly with wind.
    Well, aren't you lovely?
    As if.

    I live in a closed drawer you know.
    And sometimes those humans behave like bad wind.
    I cant laugh like you yet but I get to see you from window.
    Weeping so beautifully in drowsiness of early morning.
    As if.
    Soon you will be brittle just like me. Breaking on mere touch.
    Maybe my pieces will rest with you someday.
    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 12w

    A gifted life

    My heart feels crumbled in my own hands,
    I want to reach out so desperately for an eye,
    That doesnt envy me, for a decorated empty life.
    I never wished for a city life but rather a quiet shore,
    To live the life from its roots under a warm sunlight,
    Feeling alive from sunrise to sunset bartering smiles.
    But I am alone in a street full of people in my own hometown,
    No more, I dont want to reach out for stars that feel so cold,
    But a voice keeps insisting, I have to run else I will not survive.
    Monsters I escaped were always there in corners of my heart,
    I wonder, should I just let go of peace that was war in the past,
    But what else will I hold onto, life doesnt hide in this maze of glass.
    Within those concrete walls, I had sought endlessly an answer,
    When I fought for freedom, what was the price it had asked of me,
    A mere promise to be alone or to be abandoned on the edge of a cliff.
    Was it all a joke played on a life, which I was always taught to dream,
    I cant even hate these shadows whispering their false love to my ears,
    Please just tell me, how am I so tired of life when I have been blessed.
    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 13w

    Mr. Passerby

    In chatter of charcoal coconut heads,
    And all that cacophony of braided strands,
    I had heard maybe an echo of craven word,
    Starting to end with that last memory of you.

    Miles of wandering gazes forsake my sight,
    I sought running after a rumor of your presence,
    No one bothers, the left, four hundred steps from that day,
    Mere passerby invited to sigh over unrelenting yearning.

    My madden heart clings to remnants of flowing shadows,
    Playing hide & seek for so long, with lost eye sockets,
    A shop in front keeps glaring at sun, with knock here & there,
    Nothing bought, but I got sold in your eyes for mere passerby.
    A mere passerby.

    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 13w

    Witch of Gloaming

    In a moment, she had fallen from the world,
    and in arms of water, she had tried to catch sun,
    to that last breath, she had taken in shallow freedom.

    When cold touched, she had suddenly yearned for depths,
    to be lost or maybe forgotten, she had asked for embrace,
    and how cruel it was, she had purged her mad passion.

    Standing amidst the crowd, she had hidden a broken mirror,
    and those sharp blades, she had pointed at raging sunset,
    to drink his crimson death, she had vacated her gaze.

    Many shadows whispered, she had beguiled an angry tempest,
    to squander an eventide, she had spent remnants of dawn,
    and after being caught by wind, she had flown them to stars.

    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 16w

    Sometimes I hate the fact I can write,
    It becomes an easier way to distract life,
    I dont utter a scream but scratch the ink,
    Slowly over torn paper with unsaid cries.
    My tears fall sometimes within empty lines,
    Fading away with mockery of rhyming lies.

    I dont like to remember my days but I write,
    To change my past I build dreams with words,
    Hiding sadness behind layers of metaphors.
    Sometimes I see spilled ink in a corner of world,
    Tears well up refusing to fall down until I scream.
    Sometimes I hate the fact that I can write.

  • redstrings 19w

    A mirage in Hills

    I am but a plateau of my dreams,
    Standing strong amongst the winds.
    My heart beats evenly for each color,
    My limbs itch equally for each trouble.
    I color, sing, dance & work along the skies,
    I write & read when I tiptoe across the miles.
    Sunlight shines on my wings & gives me a smile,
    Moonlight calms my nerves & gives me a rest awhile.
    I stand all alone in wilderness trying to keep my head high,
    But mountains that do stand by each other seems to be a lie.
    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 21w

    Flooded by Love

    Today, this rain beats the ground,
    Falling down tearing the clouds.
    A letter to forlorn lover of ocean,
    Waves crying like forsaken pearls.

    Ripples on hearth of land are fleeting,
    Water's sorrow is silenced in cruel depths.
    A river boils in anger over indifferent rocks,
    Carrying the memories each season alone.

    A harsh sun keeps tormenting her favour,
    Snatching lakes to weep again on waves.
    But water can no longer swallow her tears,
    Flooding land in a gulp of cold embrace.

    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 30w

    I pick up words one by one,
    So tired to fill up the spaces,
    Always tasting like bitter grief.

    It sounds like a complain to life,
    Cowardice inked beneath rhymes,
    Looking for some courage to accept it.

    My sentences look broken & weirdly empty,
    Making meanings fall out of spaces I left open,
    Maybe something will make sense & I will hope again.

    ©redstrings