In our busy rollercoaster life we come across many jump scars but the scariest one is when the conversion of somebody from known becomes somebody who's unknown you could feel the coldness ,even when there're close ,yet you feel ten feet apart from them maybe they aren't the same, or they think you're changed, you lock plenty of tears instead your heart just because you afraid to be apart, but little do you know you are special which they still not discover and by the time when you're gone they got to realize the essence of your bond
I wasn't fire, still I was burnt. I wasn't ice still I melt in your love. I wasn't a life, still you chose me to live and die on. I wasn't sky still was parallel to the earth. I wasn't a poetry, still was written read and thrown many times consisting all the emotions inside me. I wasn't worthy still you chose me like a bird chooses the sky and life chooses death and soul chooses a body.
I could'nt be bad as I'm your only choice, but why did you start hating your own? Why to end the relationship? Can't we be in any other form of our relation? Don't let me like the bird in cage who keeps thinking that 'Time has no wings still it flies and I have but I can't'. Let me be independent in your thoughts.
People end up with all the relations and think, why relations get an end. But actually those relations never end, we consider it so. The form of relations change there. It's the energy, can't be created or can't be destroyed just it changes it's form from one to another.
Do you remember, you had said that you're jealous of the poetry song I love the most. Being far from each other, let's play that poetry song together and feel each other in the lyrics and our love in the rhythms of it . Do you remember, you had promised you'll write a poetry for me. Let's create a poetry together, let me be the words and you be the emotions. I used to choose silence in my poetries, but they always spoke louder. You choose me there in your poetries and give me a rest in your lap.
Let's change the name of our relation. You and me will remain the same and so will our love, just the name of this relationship will change. Let's reincarnate ourselves in the same birth. Let's change our relation, be my poet and let me be your poetry.
Make a bed of poetries and let me rest on it with the lullabies of it's rhythmic verses and music. Let me be the dream of every poet who can't write me. Either I'll rest on your pen or the time will. Either I'll stop there or the time will. Let your pen write my name as your poetry and your name as your autographed signature. Let me be yours in any condition.
Write me till you become a poet and I become a poetry. Write me till I'm alive in your poetry. Write me till your pen starts bleeding my blood instead of the ink. Write me till the metaphors start looking like my heart and allteration start looking like my soul. Write me till the people give your poetry as the name of mine forever. Write me till I become your only poetry...
Write me, and let me be....
I'll stop myself or I'll stop the time there, write me, and let me be...
there is beauty in everything even in those detoxifying sparkling days and those fatal bad days
What beauty really is? I guess no one knows We just pretend to know Well, that's the only thing we are good at
We all are caught up in the notions of his and her ego that what we forgot to create ours We say we don't judge a book by it's cover I am sorry but really don't we just do that
Beauty is indeed a great and graceful thing in itself but why do we make it something else when we can just appreciate the beauty of each other's existence and celebrate it together rather than making each other uncomfortable in little yet huge world
#journal#wod This Mirakee challenge was quite a timely coincidence after previously viewing earlier today a Dhar Mann’s video on two women finally pursing their dreams despite their age. Walk, run, limp, wheel, crawl your way in forward motion. When you take falls, don’t stay down too long, get back racing towards your dreams!
Be prewarn.... quite long. Hey, I was journaling😉
Dear Journal, I’m on the chase, Some say I’m too old chasing the wind, I’m grasping at youthful air.
Dear Journal, If only I stopped listening sooner, I wouldn’t have prevented my mind agreeing with their age limiting opinions.
Dear Journal, Starting today. The date doesn’t matter anymore. I’m putting on my running shoes and chasing a previous dream.
Dear Journal, I fell and skinned my pride and gained a few additional grays.
Dear Journal, It took me some time I was bit embarrassed & befuddled, I haven’t ran a marathon in ages.
Dear Journal, I’m back up, a little wobbly in the knees but I’ve regained my senses. I’m changing my comfortable Keds (temporary) with shoes with my more traction.
Dear Journal, I’m gaining momentum, I see success written in neon lights with my signature below it.
Dear Journal, I stumbled once again, my rump kissing the dirt while my glasses and dream shattered. Everything looked quite dim.
Dear Journal, I’m back on track, all I needed was a pep talk from three friends, Me, Myself, and I. They told me to get off my old(er) tush, its okay to limp along. As long as I keeping moving forward at any rate.
Dear Journal, So I’m off once more, limping along after my optical prescription been refilled.
Dear Journal, I’m not quite there but further than I was yesterday sitting in the proverbial dust.
Dear Journal, The naysayers including myself were all very wrong, I’m gaining considerable strength that’s renewing my faith.
Dear Journal, I’m learning Air is attainable if it’s caught in a bottle lol. My corny humor is still intact.