Poetry

Ode to a stranger

She was a wanderer in a fallen city,

With a bag full of antique memories,

And a yellow diary tied with iron thread.

She fought in battles for last decade,

The scars on her back made the map

Of her victory,

She wasn’t afraid of demons with golden swords.

Now she roams under the sun

And rests under the oak tree,

But still an anonymous stranger to the world.

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Expectation – A Disease

A self infused formidable sickness

Usually makes bitter hours slower,

I try hard to sink in various actions

But it pulls my hands to embrace

Sucking my core, leaving me indifferent

And turning me in to an anomaly.

~ We are born keeping expectation stored in our little hearts. That’s only the beginning. As time passes it tightens the roots strongly that we can’t escape from its shade. It blooms creating a whole garden of despair. And we keep walking in that garden untill we get buried under those charming poppies.

~ When expectations leave you severely shattered.

Poetry

Isolophilia

No more your sweet lies,

Not needing your deception anymore.

My heart is faded and

My soul is tired.

No more fantasy tales,

Not needing your sugar coated promises,

Let me reside in the edge of nowhere

Till I say goodbye.

Let me savour solitude

Ceasing seconds

In my cabin of clay.

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A letter to my past self

I often wonder what will be your reaction after seeing me, your future self. Perhaps you will hate me after knowing how I have messed up your life. Not messed up actually, I have just turned your life in to a everlasting battleground. Anyway I would like to give you a tip not to write me to you today. Dear me, strongly prohibit the faces with masks around you. Run away from them to somewhere you can make yourself an epic instead of tragic. Don’t rely upon anyone to make yourself happy. You’re the only one with magic in your heart. Let that magic flow untill you find your feet standing among stars, shining with the morning star. Don’t let them to hold you down. Just one more time do it yourself.

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Hope

Hope floats underneath the weeping wishes. Wishes reflect our emotions. And our emotions are part of expectations. We get hurt mostly for our expectations from the people around us whom we often call nearest and dearest. We let ourselves to depend upon their actions to make us happy. It seems our happiness is slave to their actions. We keep hoping unknowingly from them. This hope is a small flame which burns smoothly inside every human being, sometime the flame gets ablaze when our expectations run out of limitations and we get burnt severely. Why can’t a person find contentment in his/her own actions?

Self-contentment is the only way to be happy without depending upon others. Is that easy to be self-contented?

Definitely not. After all we are humans, we can’t escape from our nature. We are full of emotions. And emotion is a wild horse, it’s hard to be tamed. They keep running here and there untill we get tired, leaving us shattered.

We need people to live the life as we can’t afford loneliness. We can’t even accept the idea to be lonely. What if we turn loneliness in to solitude? When we’ll begin to enjoy our own company in loneliest hours, we can become truely happier. Be your own best friend to enjoy each moment of joy and sorrow. Embrace yourself, both physically and spiritually.

Quit expecting from others. Life is more than expecting. Life is you and you are life. Let it bloom beyond hopeless expectations and out of limitations. Be your own hope.

REMEMBER~

You are enough to make yourself happy. You have your hope, turn your hope in to courage. Courage to step out of the circle and let your life breath under the blue sky.