Ps : i don't actually know what is Pun ,this is just what i understand xD
RIP = Resting In Prison , (prison can be the cages that resist one to be independent, can be some words of of someone or be caged in ourown thoughts etc..) Resting In Peace , Rest In Poetry , Reeped Imprisoned Parables
Accidentally got deleted post for @_mysoul So editing it to this
Moon self-slaughtered in the loveshore , Sequelling the word 'Die' is just a 'Lie' It slaughtered the fallacies of civil blood with its crescent blade , graving the parent's strife under it's reflection (War b/w Montagues and capulet)
/Two of the fairest stars of heaven /(eyes) Gleamed in my dark heart ,edifying even the torch to burn bright It's the True Apothecary , which sold love-drug to my soul It's smoke, that i breath fogged anguish , and carved out smile on my face I wanna die with her kiss stamped on my forehead
My heart quenches for the bliss Only i earn is the Tragic miss Now All i could do is to kiss You with my metaphory reminisce Which i capsulated into 5-petalled stars And scattered it on the azure abyss To conceal the veins of scars
/This bud of Love , by summer's ripening breath may prove a beauteous flower when next we meet /
Soul steps-out from the ambrosian fields of body, Each fragile petals drip-off from life , i laid tacitly down the cancer ward Death awaited out the door ,and kindly behold through those murky glass Pain termited holistic as, Aura Aromated unanswered medicines , While taking pain killers for soothing others Hour glasses harps aloud, the doomsday rituals, Trying to stoop downward it's sand as to bury heartbeats Immortal reminiscence lingered past veins Death Outlined 'X' mark on the door of life As No Moon ,No Sun could enter, Even Dawn and Dark lefts my vocabulary!
And then Hope whispers the words of W.E Henley “It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.”
I came to know the taste of having a Brother ,since i met you .Not only as a brother , also as a True Friend, writer ,and Army . Loads or love to you for your protection and care and love And No thanks ,as you always said
Maybe temp I know i always fail in Expressing my feelings I'm sorry
This is about , Vismaya V Nair, a 22-year-old woman, found dead on Monday morning at the house of her husband's family.Her death came two days after she sent messages to her cousin telling him that her husband had brutally beaten her many times over a car that was given as part of her dowry. Vismaya told her cousin that she has faced severe assault. She wrote about how after assaulting her, her husband allegedly pulled back her hair and stamped on her face. She says in the message that she has not told anyone about the assault. The photos she shared with her cousin show injuries on her face, shoulder and hands.
Growth is inevitable It's the distinct trajectory that define each individual The majestic ones The wild ones The significant or significantly insignificant ones
Perched higher up and all along the daunting cliffs Defying the treacherous slopes bedded with archaic rocks The lush coniferous flora languorously duvets the wild diaspora Majestic heights Devoid of fright The callous winds too pay obeisance to the magical sight The longevous pines, Towering birches, Flashy rhododendrons and enigmatic firs Tacitly foster the fauna as a magnanimous matriarch The fortified ecosystem thrives illustriously therein
The callous gale subdued, whooshes downhill Down towards the outskirts of metropolis Where lining up the dying river Stand unabashedly the tenacious survivors Nothing grows there except the fiesty wild flowers Always snubbed as inutile weeds These wild ones brave the torrential showers, Domineering wild winds, Ugly beings, Who trample upon the indigent weed Either for fun or feed Yet the wildflower refuses to thrive subserviently Eventually flying far away to maiden pastures Thus proliferating gloriously therein
You see, growth is ubiquitously democratic Thriving at the tip of a consequential iceberg And at the tip of an unpretentious blade of grass
I did not break through. I could not break free. I surrendered. To make the chains stop hurting.
I often falter infront of the mirror because it reflects my reality. And only in it's dreaded face do I acknowledge my incessant addiction to fantasies. I am but an escapist, I murmur, staring into the mirror. The mirror smirks. People have it worse, it says. Heavens know the weight on my shoulders is enough to make my back droop but the mirror tells me, even with blunders as indelible as a birthmark, I am just an insignificant speck fading away to infinity, and that ought to offer me a moment of a few unburdened breaths. The mirror asks me to stop romanticising the pain in hopes of healing because true healing begins when you stop craving it. When you come to terms with the fact that some scars are going to stay, and not as embellishments. Scars are all they'll ever be. There will be no beauty to them. Just ugliness. And terror. But less pain and maybe one day, enough strength to narrate their stories. The mirror is not wrong. Not at all. Then why do I feel like a hostage of it's arguments?
Why do I take shelter within poems even when they're to no avail? For I am now, at the end of this one and the chains still won't stop grappling.
Two roads diverged into a yellow wood Where obsolete tales of stars got furbished, When the quills of hope, masked the skies in sapphire hues. To overhaul the euphoria raised by the unheard rhythmic beats.
And sorry i could not travel both, For i was not brave enough to walk , On those aimless streets, spend restless nights and and chase gaiety all alone.
So just like a traveller, long i stood, Filtering the mosaics of stained poetries, To embellish the rainbows on my sky- less soul which once entwined in millions of stars , Wrapping my ache and agony under the leaf of ecstatic ambience.
I looked down one, as far as i could, Dressed in galactic robes, exploring the constellations in your swollen eyes. Standing on the barren garden of my heart, where once grew sunflowers of love, which i used to water daily.