shailja33

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  • shailja33 13h



    Sanguine
    soul sovereigns
    sundry symphonies solely .

    ©shailja33

  • shailja33 2d

    To the sky,
    The hollow space you hold
    carries a bundle of joy
    Rainbows and birds and snowflakes
    and droplets of rain
    and the starlight gazing at their sovereign
    the ruler of night, the almighty moon
    and the storms you unclasp in a calm day
    You are more than you hold by the way ..


    #postcard #wod

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    To the sky,
    The hollow space you hold
    carries a bundle of joy
    Rainbows and birds and snowflakes
    and droplets of rain
    and the starlight gazing at their sovereign
    the ruler of night, the almighty moon
    and the storms you unclasp in a calm day
    You are more than you hold by the way ..
    ©shailja33

  • shailja33 3d

    The feather departed its way
    from the hull of a dove
    to meet a drab writer's hand
    to fill the barren verso
    to encounter a new rhyme
    filled with umpteen slangs.

    Dipped in the pool of blue
    the feather reminisces
    the warmth of the dove
    and the cold of the breeze
    which it once had while the dove
    mated with one of its lover new.

    As the writer holds it to begin
    a new page, the feather twists its way
    to narrate an old escapade
    which is filled with tales
    of a boulevard escape of the lovers
    who eloped somewhere far away.

    Many more was left to narrate
    but the quill fractured in the midway
    and the feather departed its way from
    the writer's hand to the air
    which held it for longer than dove
    and the writer's page .

    #feather #wod
    @writersnetwork

    Due to my blank state of my mind nowadays, this is all I could accumulate .��

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    .

    Many more was left to narrate
    but the quill fractured in the midway
    and the feather departed its way from
    the writer's hand to the air
    which held it for longer than dove
    and the writer's page .

    ©shailja33

  • shailja33 5d

    And then you whispered
    in my ears,
    "I love you"
    I love you too, I replied swiftly
    unknown of the fact that
    one day you will leave me
    giving me a lame excuse.
    Maybe you never loved me
    though you told me 100times
    Maybe your dictionary isn't the same
    Or you a champion of this game
    But no worries, I won't blame
    you or the time which was ours
    is now divided impartially
    As, I count every second
    and you are high for hours.

    Are you fine?
    People wanna know
    Because I am not
    Known of the fact that
    the excuse you chose
    was lame or or part of a game.
    No worries,
    I will skip this phase
    Just like I skip the ads
    Maybe the skipping period
    will last more than for few minutes
    Or days or years.

    How do I know ?
    When you left me in the corner of
    this hollow room
    where my voice echoes
    And I am the one who hears the reverberation
    for you emptied the ullage again
    and the war betwixt my head and heart
    is hard to end .
    Soon it will be over
    The conflict of thought,
    I thought that love would last forever
    But I was wrong.

    #end #wod

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    ❤️

    And then you whispered
    in my ears,
    "I love you"
    I love you too, I replied swiftly
    unknown of the fact that
    one day you will leave me
    giving me a lame excuse.
    Maybe you never loved me
    though you told me 100times
    Maybe your dictionary isn't the same
    Or you a champion of this game


    ©shailja33

  • shailja33 1w

    Her eyes look like unheard stories
    and tales of unknown places,
    unknown people, she observed
    while she herself remain
    anonymous
    to everyone.
    In her own fable,
    she was an antagonist
    searching for her protagonist.

    And then she wrote
    about all the fables she visualised
    all through her life
    And finally met her
    main role, her protagonist
    which was her own soul
    in her autobiography, she poured
    all her things out in the book
    which she named after her
    favourite place, "A seashore".

    As the pages fell
    one after another
    her story became more limpid
    than the water sea held,
    and the events foretold the
    depth of her pain she held since years
    similar to her favourite seashore.

    She always remained
    hidden in a camouflage
    of lies she told to the people
    when she couldn't reveal the truth, she knew.
    But it was time to let
    her old self go,
    to begin a new life
    and a new spirit to grow
    with the seed she sowed
    in the book she wrote.

    And soon her eyes sparkled a bit
    unfolding her untold episodes
    she got readers to read her
    eyes which looked like unheard stories.

    ©shailja33

    #start #wod #ceesreposts

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    .

    Her eyes look like unheard stories
    and tales of unknown places,
    unknown people, she observed
    while she herself remain
    anonymous
    to everyone.

    ©shailja33

  • shailja33 1w

    Broken crayons in my bag
    wonder if they had a tag
    of brands people wish to buy
    as they hold a worthless price.

    I wish to exchange them with other
    Even from an unknown but better
    Unlike broken but fixed in a box
    of glittering hues and myriad blocks.

    Last day I saw the bag of an explorer
    his crayons were perfect and fair
    When I asked the reason why so unfair?
    God told me the broken was on my share .

    Tried to fix them for umpteen hours
    But they remained broken like my heart
    Got a glue so new but hard to stick
    my broken desire and my closing trick.

    Then in vain I Iost one more crayon
    enthrilled with vain my eyes rained
    Encountering me in such pain
    My mother showed her set of crayons.

    To my shock she had a perfect pair
    When I asked the reason why so unfair?
    She taught me you are the one who can repair
    your share of crayon and despair.

    The next day I repaired my burst emotions
    which were no less than an ocean
    I poured out all the vain in words
    and my empty heart was again filled with mirth.

    The next day my set of crayons were fine
    Neither broken nor divine
    But I now had a plan to execute
    to renovate it and my empty hue.



    Set 1- broken crayons in my bag
    Set 2 - empty

    #combination #wod #ceesreposts
    Thanks @miraquill for ❤️

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    Broken crayons in my bag
    wonder if they had a tag
    of brands people wish to buy
    as they hold a worthless price.


    ©shailja33

  • shailja33 2w

    If you ask me about the tale
    of the flee of the swindle
    who once caught the limelight
    for his knack of chicanery
    I will begin with the preface
    for his charm was enchanting
    and appealing was his tone
    words rippled from his lips
    like the sand slipping to surface
    His puckish smile was his reserve
    for the mirror when he was alone
    Few days he took to reach the palace
    By fawning and simpering the majority
    who held power in the city.

    Who knew he was there to only
    seduce the only princess the King had
    after innumerous collapse by her only Queen
    for he loved many but married only one.
    Just when the ball was full
    with prince and princess of nations varied
    to celebrate the heiress jubilee
    She caught his wild eyes
    and couldn't resist when he
    asked her to join the sway.

    Hardly few days passed
    Her head and heart she lost
    to the swindler anyway
    and accepted to marry him the other day .
    On the wedding day
    many hearts were broken
    and many heads bowed
    to the newly wed .
    And the night came close
    the princess waited for her lover
    till the stars turned off and
    the sun was dressed up to show.

    But he didn't come and left a note
    for the king of palace
    which quoted in the way -

    " I will come back and rescue
    your honour and daughter the day
    when you will give my sister back
    for she committed suicide the next hour
    you left her in the lawn
    with the baby in her belly
    and eyes flooded with tears
    with ruin and despair,
    which I return you now
    But not to you, to the only
    daughter you lay "
    ~Swindler.




    #wild #wod #ceesreposts
    Thanks for the ❤️ @writersnetwork

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    If you ask me about the tale
    of the flee of the swindle
    who once caught the limelight
    for his knack of chicanery
    I will begin with the preface
    for his charm was enchanting
    and appealing was his tone.

    ©shailja33

  • shailja33 2w

    Right from the beginning
    she puzzeled me
    with the wordplay
    she wrote in her hymns
    and poetries
    delineating quixotic
    nuptial of an old pair.

    Idealizing her own
    set of characters
    she asked me
    to do the same
    while she desired
    for the alike consequence.

    I loved her aim
    So followed the same
    praised her for
    every trivial act
    she committed
    and got married soon.

    After a while she herself
    lost the track while
    making love she was
    in her own, unfollowing
    the old pair, she realised
    ours was rare.

    And for our own sake
    we drifted apart
    from the portraits
    which we once followed
    but remained together
    in an innate way.

    And then few years
    went so ethereal,
    that time didn't bother us anyway
    Just one day when
    she didn't get up
    from her long nap.

    She passed away
    shrinking my heart
    in a deep melancholic spirit
    yearning for her arms,
    I read all her verses
    all the villanelle she wrote in days.

    May be she will visit
    me in my sleep the next night
    I slept with this hope
    completing her volumes
    of the nuptial of an old pair,
    I reminisced our old days.

    At the end I wrote,
    Finishing my epitaph with a quote,
    "Beauty was she all about
    Be it her warmth or
    Be it her zeal
    or her kind soul which captivated almost all".

    #love #wod

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    .

    At the end I wrote,
    Finishing my epitaph with a quote,
    "Beauty was she all about
    Be it her warmth or
    Be it her zeal
    or her kind soul which captivated almost all".

    ©shailja33

  • shailja33 2w

    Her curves floats in a flexuous way
    Like a flock flees just before rain
    Gently stretching the caged despair and dismay
    Unfurls her arms to track the tempo
    Perpetually played in a veteran wireless radio
    Recalling the ragged moves her mother taught
    Just before she was swallowed by sky.

    To relive the hours which passed away
    She bought the replica of the radio
    which her mother had in her days
    while she whirls wearing her pointy shoes
    and her further costume step by step,
    Is the only memory her head holds
    For she was no more than three.

    #kwansaba #wod #ceesreposts ( tried in a different way)
    @writersnetwork thanks for the ❤️

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    .

    Her curves floats in a flexuous way
    Like a flock flees just before rain
    Gently stretching the caged despair and dismay.


    ©shailja33

  • shailja33 3w

    Sitting near a smutted site
    Selling cheap story books of unfamiliar erudite,
    to fed his vacant shape.

    Hours and hours he howls
    to every strange skeleton to purchase one,
    If not more than that.

    Steadily a peanut vendor passes his stall
    to buy a silly novel
    Rips up the paper into umpteen slices.

    To sell the baked peanut and pepper
    and earns his daily wage
    Pleased with penny sets back to home.

    The prior vendor passes its way away
    Somewhere in between the hubbub
    To rise his scanty sale .

    Passing him a writer stops
    To ask him the price book holds
    specially the one he wrote.

    Fifty five with no sneap
    every book laid holds the same worth
    with not a less rupee .

    Handing vendor his fare share
    The writer moves smirking at the book
    which he wrote years ago.

    It's so cheap, he mumbled
    While reminiscing his fiery fanatic days
    when he wrote for hours.

    The day was almost over
    and so was vendor's duty hours now
    So is my ambiguous anecdote.


    #katuata #wod

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    .

    Hours and hours he howls
    to every strange skeleton to purchase one,
    If not more than that.


    ©shailja33