Miraquill
Life is bit short
to do masters in its law.
Before convocating with degree
death is what it will bestow.
©schriftsteller_sakshi
schriftsteller_sakshi
Wonder lives in the unfamiliar|22|
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schriftsteller_sakshi
111w
Read More#Temporary #lame
Was just trying to pen down life in the language of law.
/When I took lawyer thing too seriously.��/
-------------------------------------------
Law of life is beyond reach
of us humans around.
With each pages,
getting turned
It set forth
disparate clauses to bound.
Life solely precludes
to get explained by humans.
It's a forever mystery
of plaintiff and demons.
First norm it entails
is karma,
the art of earning
what one deserves.
And no ultra vires exist
in the court of life verse.
Each individual read it,
half or maybe less
Yet, it's so unjust sometimes
and molds entire into mess.
Who's the justice here?
Who's the prosecutor?
Witnesses are numerous
but voices arrive nowhere.
Many hold resentment
many feel victimised.
Many try winning it anyhow,
unaware of tryst being
eternal mate to be precised.
Life comes up, out of nowhere,
with novice amendments,
and takes no consent
for inserting provision
of uncertainity.
Darkness dispensed
is a punishment
in diguise affirmity.
Life is bit short
to do masters in its law.
Before convocating with degree
death is what it will bestow.
I wonder,
this is unlawful,
however so beautiful.
©schriftsteller_sakshi -
schriftsteller_sakshi
112w
Read More
I know, it's long enough to scroll��
But I just wanted to write this story. And also it's a piece of fiction.
------------------------------------------
College fest sometimes can be really exhausting. From past three-four days, I've been really busy with these event stuffs, but my favourite part is yet to come. I've always been an outgoing person and love parties, and after parties have always been my thing.
I was in a cab continuously scrolling my instagram solely to ignore traffic peeping outside. My phone vibrated, "I can't attend the party, Sakshi. I gotta go for some urgent work", my friend uttered from other side. This made me more exhausted then.
Ah! finally, I reached to the place after one hour straight. There were many familiar faces, but no one to commence a conversation with. So, I decided to enjoy my own. I don't know, what sort of trouble was revolving within me, but peculiarly I wasn't enjoying at all.
I went to have a glass of wine and glared over the crowd, "Ugh! How exasperating", I mumbled, which again was few and far between. Rolling my eyes off, I preferred silence. I moved towards the balcony area to respire fresh breath.
While gazing aloft in the dark sky enshrouded with myriad stars, I caught a sight of a man, who was beholding the sky with much affection. "These stars entail numerous stories, right", I said. "Secrets too", he replied.
"They imprison us betwixt pain and pretentious happiness, yet holds something that seems akin treasure, I am Abhimanyu and you?
"That something is a relief to gloomy sombre, well, Sakshi Agrahari", I responded.
He was quiet impressive and mysterious. I got utmost curosity inside, but had to be sophisticated. "I shall leave now", I said. Mind having a short walk or cab is more better to you? He chuckled. Walking is healthy, I guess, I said.
We walked streets to streets and he seemed to be more mysterious and an open book simultaneously. He was opening up so much of his heart yet something was hidden inside. And that depicted an amazing charm over his face. I gazed over his face out of astonishment. "Staring at the thing you like", he chuckled. 'Shut up', I denied.
We had a long conversation from his likes and dislikes to all the things he is aiming for. Amidst all the chit-chats, he kept adoring the dark sky and complaining about the stars. "Everyone focuses on stars but what with that dark sky?, he said. Can you elaborate a bit, I asked. Let it be, he replied.
Who says girls are not easy to understand, I mean just look at this guy. It was 2:00 am and I neither was bored of his philosophies nor his fascination. He kept adding some philosophical aspects between all his flirtious and amusing words.
'Icecream', I uttered. He ran with more excitement to have it. "A happy soul", I thought to myself. While relishing my icecream I caught him staring at me. "Staring at the thing you like? I chuckled. Nah! he replied with a smile.
It was 3:30am now, and we were standing in front of my house. "It was nice meeting you, Abhimanyu. Hope to see you soon", I said.
"It was an amazing meeting with anyone, Sakshi. Can I...Can I just hug you? he asked. Sure, I replied. And we hugged each other, like there's nothing beyond, not even a tiny space.
Then he uttered bye with a line "Do you really have no idea, who actually I am? Is it that important to know? I asked. "You really living beneath the rock", he said. 'Mountains may be', I chuckled. Then he left the place.
It had been five days since then, I had no clue about that guy. I didn't even tried to espy until I came across an article about a billionaire couple getting divorced. Article says:
"This weekend, billionaire couple Ajay Kapoor and Shriya Kapoor announced their seperation after long 35 years of marriage. Life is a journey and it holds lots of ups and downs, with this we've mutually decided to put off the formalization of marriage, statement by Ajay Kapoor. Their single child, Mr. Abhimanyu Kapoor denied facing media and decided to isolate himself after giving an statement "They must have done this way before, I don't know what stopped them for this 35 years. Well, it's there matter, better interview them".
The guy who felt happy soul to me, had lots of agony burried inside. Having huge crowd around, yet that feeling of being left alone, is really traumatic both physically and mentally. I was able to feel his all pains now. I did understood all the philosophies of that night.
I wanted to meet him, but had no address to reach him. During deep thoughts of balancing life, out of sudden a voice shrieking my name reached my ears. I went to balcony and there was he, Abhimanyu Kapoor.
I called him up and that day he spoke his heart out. He shared all his pain he anguished and how he felt like orphan after having both the parents, since childhood. He enunciated all situations where he found ending life more easy. "Money can't buy all the happiness", he said. Ofcourse, I replied.
Then he disclosed that he is shifting to US for lifetime, as he have some future plans. And he wanted to meet me for the last time and wanted to share every bit of his life. I took a promise from him, to just give a phone call, whenever thought of ending life comes near his head.
He left the place with smile on his face.
Till today, we are in talking terms and I yet like his amusing philosophies and secrets of dark sky.
//Come back soon//
©schriftsteller_sakshiI yet like his amusing philosophies and secrets of dark sky.
Read caption
©schriftsteller_sakshi -
schriftsteller_sakshi
116w
Read More
Lame!
I wonder,
if nights are just
holding grudges on me,
or it's unforgiving to you, too.
I always believe in philosophies
and in grabbing positive drifts.
I concur on being me,
the better me to bliss.
But, when it comes to you
I lose that me, within me.
My eyes keep revering
those brown eyes which,
evinces charm on your face.
All the patterns
and theories of letting go
begins being so vague.
You ain't here with me
And, I guess
You never will.
Ahh, ofcourse
that smile arc is constant
with me, all the day.
But this unsaid goodbye
makes me sob.
I sob harder,
as nights still haunt me anyway.
I try deflecting
all the deplore out of me,
by frantically craving sleep.
As sleep is the only escape,
Escape from the entire 'you'.
Then morning sun arises,
entailing novice hopes
but I keep sleeping.
Yes I do.
I discern,
souvenir won't set me free.
Waking up will again
bring 'you' to me.
| I do miss you, but what about you?|
©schriftsteller_sakshiAll the patterns and theories of letting go,
begins being so vague.
©schriftsteller_sakshi -
schriftsteller_sakshi
117w
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Hola amigos!
Okay, so this quarantine did solely one thing good to me, it took me back here in my exquisite paradise.��
I really missed this place a lot. How you all doing?Wind encloses my heart
with eternal grip
And heals my wound
with a heartbeat skip.
I belong to the sea
I belong to the sky
all the exquisite things
that passes by.
Discerning whether
link is heart to heart
Or wound to wound.
Albeit heart liaison
pauses the breathe
And wound connects
inner soul around.
I suspire,
the best of both worlds.
Hushed whisper flows
Carelessly leans skywards.
This physical self
may confine me
And it may succumb.
But this soul feels infinite
from all wounds, and
when the time is right
across the realms,
it would flutter high.
©schriftsteller_sakshi -
You were,
embraced in the bottle of love,
bit akin an exquisite dream.
What to utter
Just let it be!
Eternal you were,
And reiteration of your name,
Just for your soul to be mine.
What to utter
Just let it be!
In timorous dark,
You promised to be unfading lusture
unremitting glance of flames.
What to utter
Just let it be!
Live the rhapsodies,
of our tiny disparate world
Your thoughts betided my fallacious hope.
What to utter
Just let it be!
All your lies,
I promulgated truths of my world
Alas! you're just an illusion.
What to utter
Just let it be!
Just let it be!
©schriftsteller_sakshi -
schriftsteller_sakshi
147w
Read More
Adrifting in eyeful dream
I leer in your eyes.
Ardent to walk with you,
for my entire life.
This life we two live,
at same time
Allbeit, disparate phases.
Just like reading of same book
But different pages.
Solely if one could slow down,
And the other could stride up
Someday may be
You never know,
We could be together.
Together,
On the same text
Escapading the same,
Vivid elucidation
and Wider panaroma
Thereupon,
We would read
We would walk
We would utter
the identical line
Utterly aligned.
schriftsteller_sakshi
#pod @writersnetwork @mirakeeWe could be together.
On the same text,
walking on same line.
©schriftsteller_sakshi -
I felt your presence
and a fleecy touch.
Satiny press
on my cold skin.
It feels like,
you're here
along with zephyr
Brushing my hair,
taping my shoulder,
and holding my waist
to pull towards.
I sighed
and shied.
Each tiptoe on my skin
made me skip a heartbeat
and my breath entails
pauses betwixt.
A sudden wind
blown on my face
Took me out
of my dream phase.
You wouldn't come,
ever again.
I nincompoop human,
I'm just so insane.
©schriftsteller_sakshi -
schriftsteller_sakshi
159w
Read More
It's dark in here
all of my days.
I'm fading away,
evanescing colours
Dwindling all my identity.
There's no space left
for novice hope
not even in sleep.
I'm enshrouded with
No smiling lights
no glaring sunrise.
All I have with me
is my dark nights
with constant lies.
You're gone
And so is your souvenir.
But I'm not empty yet,
Pain by you
still suspires deep inside.
I've nothing mine
not even emptiness.
This world entails
fulgurating rays of lights
but, to me
all alludes burden to the soul.
I don't feel like
breathing anymore.
I'm alive in hazy breeze
but I don't feel
my heart beats anymore.
My mind screeches
insanity sometimes.
As I spent my life
waiting for the tide
that may never arrive.
©schriftsteller_sakshiIt's dark in here
always,
all of my days.
©schriftsteller_sakshi -
The moment
when I took a pause,
looked at his face
His heart.
And his heart beats.
I sensed smell of difference.
This life we two live
at same time
Is actually disparate
in all plausible phases.
He declaims about
the sky so high,
I utter the depth of sea.
He is deific raw droplet,
whirls effacing my ferocity.
He's full of sunlight,
Eclipse, all over me.
There's an abyss within
He often visits me.
Mayhap, we allude two,
unidentical human
But an identical heart
with healing soul.
©schriftsteller_sakshi -
schriftsteller_sakshi
161w
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May be, lame!
But I just felt same yesterday, when I met my childhood toys after so long.��
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Souvenir of those toys
that belongs to my
daintiest era of life.
forged an abode today,
and ordained me
to esy peace in them.
They too had lived me,
being mate of each moment
and each emotions.
I rushed to the cupboard
of my store room
and found my paradise
right there,
where it used to be
in beatific past.
Locked in wooden box
whose keys were
treasure to me,erst.
Same trilling voice
while opening box
kissed my jovial nerve.
All were there,
my piggy bank,
my fetching barbie
with long hairs
At corner, was my rabbit
shattered by me once.
I briskly hugged them so tight
and drenched 'em with tears.
They too didn't perturbed
and cuddled me back,
akin two estranged lovers
got coalesced for eternity.
I nudged my red car
a toy which inferred
predilection in my infancy.
But it got snapped
solely with my soft touch.
Mum enunciated,
the toy was old
hence it broke.
But I discerned,
it was evincing me,
the agony in disguise of anger,
for leaving it alone
from so long.
More often,
I don't remember them
owing to fact of being trapped
in muddle life.
But deep within,
they as well as I
percieve to a fare-thee-well,
We are first bezzies
in this acquisitive world.
©schriftsteller_sakshiChildhood toys♡
I found my paradise
right there,
in locked wooden box
whose keys were
treasure to me,erst.
©schriftsteller_sakshi
-
✨
Maturity doesn't define your age.
It's how much you have grown up mentally
By remembering your goodness, purpose, and self-respect
It comes with personal experience
Not by theoretical knowledge
More you suffer
More mature you are!
©leena_afsha_ishrot -
musings_
61w
Read More______________________________
1. OF THE CHOICE-LESS HOPE IN GRIEF
a famished gust of breeze heaves; the storm-tainted city limps on the cusp of collapse; now veiled, then crumbled.
the willow shivers down to the runnel of his spine, combed-out branches hanging wobbly along its sides, the rasp of a grated wood; under a frosty fete of insensate fury, the white jasmine nestles closer to the moonlight-coloured May; laying her head on the nook of its nape; the wild rose and ivy serpentine, bereft of warmth in a balm-less dusk, quiver - an ambush of avowals; an ardent discourse of roofless mouths.
an October night dismembered across its seams; unravelled lie the threads of a fractured memory.
A jaded discord betwixt the mist and the mud, the stifled sky of June fondles the bruised face of the moon in her undulated palms, sullen, shrivelled like the wings of a limb-less moth; dangling weary over the soil, above the rhythmic sway of trees - stroked with olive and bottle-green; dotting the moor like obelisks.
a wilting flower droops tired on the face of the wet gravid; a rusty inflorescence; before I crouch on my knees and prune the grey-beige petals apart; carrying the iris into your room, I place it into a lukewarm tumbler; in an aura of uncanny unicity, we solemnize; kindled by the blaze of the sun. you hold my hand against the coarse-grained fabric of your flannel;
"Do wilted flowers reincarnate?"
A veil of soot laid bare on the ivory of the wood; I caress your forehead, shrouded with auburn tufts of dishevelled hair; withering underneath my reverent fingers; the litany of loss, a battered rosary of breaths.
yet on your mouth, a smile - faint, lopsided;
a feeble rustle in the woods, a leaf quivering in timidity; a patient misgiving before it unfurls, a palm at the freshly laundered azure -
And I take it.
"If we give them time," my voice, a gentle reverberation; a silver resonance embroidered on the hem of the gust, a fragrant redolence.
A cold gush of rain, the rasp of a grated wood. I lay my head against the polished mahogany; embalming a memoir of melancholia; a pungent stench strewn across the pavement; jasmine crushed under departing feet; the aftertaste of bitter almonds on a baked tongue, this sorrow; in abysmal viridity, the cedar weeps; a brumous sky disembodied over the sway of trees; olive, moss-green, auburn.
In an October night being torn across its seams, an impoverished wind pulsates; unravelling the thread of a fractured memory; I pull the cashmere shawl over my drooping shoulders; wilting, only unakin a tired stalk on the gravel; rather a severed stem, an ignominious denudation; this grief - an amputation.
A staccato of steps, he loiters into the room toward me; tousled strands of hair falling off his shoulders, splinters of fire; I crouch on my knees to embrace him when I see it - a blossom cradled in his hands; wet, glistening waxy petals, amaranthine deepening at the edges; on his mouth a smile, faint, lopsided;
Yours.
"What do we call this flower that blooms all over the moor?"
a feeble crinkle in the woods; a tremulous leaf unfurling like a palm -
"Fleur-de-lis."
And I take it.
Iris.
- Kainat //
_____________________________________
REFERENCES:
i) "moonlight-coloured May and ivy serpentine," - Shelley's The Question.
ii) "jasmine crushed under departing feet," - Agha Shahid Ali.
_____________________________________
#pod #lovexloss30.
Be love in its disrepute -
scorches a hillside and salts every root;
watches the slowing and starving of troops;
or be like the rose you hold in your hand
I will grow bold in a barren and desolate land.
- Be // Hozier
©musings_ -
She abandoned me
in between her
poetries.
Not knowing I'm
still breathing in
between her tales...
©his_aesthetic_ink -
kairos_
62w
Read MoreOnce doors that
opened willingly with a smile
now creaked alone
watching years fly by
begging me to leave
like I did before
How I wished
to smell the lost times,
whiffs of which
stayed in the wardrobe
rotten now inside out
like my worn out mind
giving up
Stepping on the floor without care
each tile yelled about
little fingers crawling
working feet rushing
aging bodies limping
I could hear them well,
without any recognition
Paints on the wall
falling off bit by bit,
commemorating the ones
that left and my return,
loved ones that stayed
questioned my loyalty
albeit in a frame
Shouldering my past,
my knees crumbled like
those old pillars,
windows welcomed me
with a caressing wind and
a stench of familiarity,
both, I once abandoned
a stranger I became which I always was,
in my broken home.
- T.S.
#abandoned
#wod
@writersnetwork Thank you for the welcome. Hoping that your team has been alright.
@mirakee Grateful to you too. Thanks for making our lives, readers and writers alike a tad bit better.Homesick.
"left to come back,
right to stay and not.
correcting times and wrongs,
forgetting right paths." -
dusky_dawn
62w
Sadness often strangles me but let me breathe before I could be six feet under. With nausea trickling down by my throat to the lungs until it reaches the fingers of my feet.With feet warming up to anxiety and breathing in all the terrible pain until it collapses under the weight of it.
©dusky_dawn -
love_whispererr
62w
Read More#abandoned #wod
Ps-Salvator Mundi(Latin for Saviour of the World) is a painting by Leonardo da Vinci subject in iconography depicting Christ with his right hand raised in blessing and his left hand holding an orb and represents heaven.
Thank you so much @writersnetwork ��Salvator Mundi
When I forgot my favourite kerchief
in an abandoned room near
da Vinci's Salvator Mundi
That night I cried a lot
with some vagrant raindrops
with many visored faces
I cried a lot
those crickets were crying with their chirrups
and those thunderclaps were silent
pathfinders were disguised
And some vagabond presumptions were leading
and a warrior inside me was dying,
near that dimmed facade.
After a while, I found myself
inside the oak forest of North America,
and I lost my metaphors
in that tenebrous night ;
I looked here and there
up and down
and the kerchief was dangling from a brown acorn.
With the breezes blowing from west,
those nuts were grinning
with full of refreshing hopes
with full of thirst-quenching courages
with full of bracing determinations
while crumpling miseries
crumpling agonies
crumpling collapses
I woke up inside a heaven to bloom again.
B I D Y A -
Perhaps you were right
when you said that I
won't be able to catch you
when you fall. You are old,
wrinkled and thin, you are
fifty five and you keep
dozens of medicines
on the bed table,
you walk slowly and
stand with support but
you know what, you
are still too heavy.
Your bones are stuffed with
kilograms of anger and
pride. All of my spring had
died beneath the weight
of those fickle emotions.
Did you let me live
enough to save you from
dying?
Perhaps you were right
when you said that I
won't be able to catch you
when you fall.
©my_cup_of_poetry -
mikasa__
69w
Read MoreTo Captain Levi,
How are you doing?? Should I be more formal.. I really don't know "cause after all I'm writing this letter to the strongest soldier of humanity.. I'm a little bit tensed thinking about how are you going to react and all!!! By the way, how are you?? Hope, you're doing good. What about everyone.. how are they doing?? And yeah, is Mikasa allright? I want to give her a tight hug so much...
Captain!! I don't know how to put this but I really want to seee Eren again.. not only Eren but Commander Erwin, Hange, Moblit, your old squad and my potato girl Sasha also.. I want to see everyone who fought and devoted their lives for the sake of humanity. I know it must've been very hard for you to overcome the agony you've felt.. but after all of these incidents you always stood strong and gave your all. You suffered, but suffered alone.. nobody saw you crying or regretting over the deaths of your comrades. You lost everyone you hold dear to your heart.. first your mother, then your old squad, then Kenny, Commander Erwin, Hange everyone.. but you never broke down. Just for a moment when you smiled.. not going to lie that was the most beautiful and rarest smile I've ever seen. When you smiled, I smiled with you! That smile made me so happy.. for real!! And also, you did keep your words to Commander Erwin; you tried and failed, tried again and failed but finally you did it.. that's why they seem to be happy at the last moment. I wish I could do the same thing, when it comes to keep my words but sometimes I really can't be able to keep my words!!
And, when the war finally came to an end you shed a drop of tear, it made me sad and relieved at the same time. I still can't get over that moment yet.. I really wish that I could get a chance to meet you in person because I want you to teach me how to stay strong both physically and emotionally, how to stay calm in the most unexpected and toughest situations. I really want this to happen!! After having such bad and serious injuries, you still fought with all your might and now you're finally free!!
You neither had a pleasant childhood nor experienced any pleasant moment... but you never chose the wrong path. You lost everyone but you carried out their wishes and fight.. yes Captain, you did great!! I've learnt so many things from you, so many things.. seeing you well in the end and in good hands.. makes me happy! Now it's your time to take rest.. because after all the worst case scenarios you're happy!! Perhaps not in the way you deserve, because life isn't fair always. I wish you all the good luck and happiness!! I don't want you to lose another single person you care about. Stay well captain!!
You're the strongest person I know. The man who taught me what devotion, courage and love for others mean. The man who taught me to stay strong and live my life with no regrets. Thank you. I will love you, forever!!
From,
A girl, who admires you the most
An open letter to my favourite character Levi Ackerman from Attack on Titan ( Shingeki No Kyojin by Hajime Isayama). I've put everything in this letter. Hope you guys will like it.
Thank you very much.❤A lot of the times, you’re going into a situation you know nothing about. So what you need is to be quick to act… and make tough decisions in worst-case scenarios.- Levi Ackerman
©mikasa__ -
H I D E
H I D E
Some words, befuddled ;
some syllables, cryptic
(though I never understand
what syllable depicts)
Some metaphors, mysterious
they always sit near the egress of mine
of course,
some heartbreaks
some forgetful fairytales
and many furtive folklores
wrap-around misconceptions.
A starry sky ;
somedays with some dawdling clouds
a crescent moon ;
somedays hides behind menaces
Some hairy phantoms
without white clothes
Many glabrous graveyards
with frightened feelings
Some sunsets
and somber nights with
many chirrups of katydids.
There is a lot to scribble
there is a lot to traverse
to vagabond
to slumber
to unloose
to bug up
to kill
to loop through
to regain
to shipwreck
there is a lot to hide
behind the identity of a writer
and beneath the sky of a poet.
✿ bidya ༎ dangling from the faded diary of a writer -
Beautiful people don't hate
They let go with a smile
Like the dying autumn leaves.
©ummerveeri
