redstrings

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  • redstrings 8w

    This life
    It keeps hurrying over
    And I leave behind spaces
    I promise to fill with joy one day
    That one day I will live
    Without counting seconds
    Even if the world ends

    I have to run fast as I can,
    I cant let freedom slip by my hands.
    When unknowingly time cages me,
    In whirlpool of perplexed directions,
    Steering life in a melancholic trance.

    I am no longer aware where I am,
    From what I started and who I loved,
    Of whom I thought of or how I lived.
    I have been running for so long.

    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 9w

    I found a song that makes me dance ,
    Calling up a laughter on silenced lips.
    I walk on streets with a flower in eyes,
    Catching on a rhythm of chirping birds.
    I fall clueless on clouds to fly away,
    Cuddling to fairies in rustic bookshelves.
    I scribble dreams on empty lines of life,
    Caging inside colors the dampen feelings.
    I hoard boxes full of moments around me,
    Camping with familiar yet unfamiliar letters.
    I sit inside these four walls looking around,
    Caressing heart now begging for her friends.
    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 14w

    Love of people is like a formal attire,
    Pressed to look perfect but is depressed.
    It makes all pleasantries on their time,
    But when you need to breathe, leaves you tied.
    Not even a scar it tolerates on its turf,
    You dare to be free when you carry their dreams!
    Expects perfection but doesnt go beyond a mile,
    You become all but a projection of their fickle desires.
    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 15w

    I am reading Love

    Fallen apart on dust permeated shelves,
    Cold stains on potpourri of letters shelved,
    Feeble memories of sunkissed noon spread.

    Crumbled away on slumber coaxed scrawls,
    Fickle metaphors on longing of hearts scrawled,
    Convoluted dribbles on bedewed paper sparred.

    And I hoppped amongst their hopes for stars.
    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 17w

    I have all but a breath left,
    Is it too much for me to have?
    I hear you, I listen to your eyes,
    Always ready to push me to hell.
    But am already there, why cant you see?
    Whats the purpose of feeling envious of me?
    Do you want me to bleed more for you to heal?
    I will show you the scars still red but will you believe?
    Will you believe? That I have nothing left to keep.
    Nothing! Not even a desire to live.
    For if I dare to breathe, the world cant heal.
    They laugh only when I weep.
    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 17w

    My words have been cut short,
    I leave sentences open to their ends,
    A trouble though but its well spent.
    I often have no conclusions to offer,
    And corpses do smell depressed,
    So take heed when you hear it sneeze.

    To be taught to loathe your own laughter,
    Is all but a token of misery indeed.
    But you survive alright, even without your dreams.
    You still know to breathe & hold your speech.
    You will do, so now buckle up & throw all those quills.
    Its a bit of gloomy weather but you will still sleep.
    So what if whip peels off your skin, aint like blood is green.
    Even corpses dont dare to speak.
    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 17w

    You fell for a cold heart,
    It has stopped to breathe.
    Grew tired of running on feet,
    So it dozed off away from seeds,
    That get watered to bloom like trees.
    It has no shade to protect you from heat.

    You fell for a cold heart, indeed,
    It has long forgotten how to dream.
    After bleeding alone on dark streets,
    And a laughter chasing it down the hills,
    Away & Away from clouds & their winds.
    It has no tears left to weep on past fields.

    You should leave this cold place, soon.
    It offers no hope for you to believe.
    Like a dead flower it has lost its colors,
    When touched it screams like a beast,
    It tried to live but they suffocated its limbs,
    So run away before you forget how to sing.
    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 18w

    I hate your claims & remains,
    On any part of my butchered soul.
    Its wounded enough to survive alone,
    But not alive to be a prisoner of your war.
    It learnt to breathe from dust around storms,
    So abandon it at your will for it refuses to submit.
    And wear a passion you sell yourself in many forms.
    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 18w

    I slipped out of locked walls,
    More of a shadow than stone.
    World was but a forest of tombs,
    Creepers were twisted & so bored,
    Crackle of leaves mourned a song,
    Of whom? Then they ask to be alone.

    I fumble through bushes as lost as fog,
    A step gone wrong to standstill at a cliff,
    Looking down at a graveyard reaching skies,
    I shiver in an emotion unwritten & unexplored.
    I want to jump and float amongst rotten songs.

    A thorned vine but promised to keep me drowned,
    Forever on the edge of ocean like a mermaid half bound,
    With the tormented flap of her wings begging to be torn.
    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 19w

    A whipped cloud in the storm,
    As grey lashes fall upon soul,
    Ask skin how it holds on to cold,
    Away from breaths shaken to core,
    Alone amongst a chaotic hope.
    ©redstrings