I’m done

Silhouettes of criticism

Ghosts of haters

Lies of sweet tongues

Lectures of feigned sages

Demons of fear

Limits of witty lunatics

I’m done with all dramas

I ain’t gonna stop

till I rise as a burning star.

This is my last peace treaty

My ink won’t stop bleeding

under the ruling pressure.


P.S. Dear sweet bloggers, I’ll be away from WordPress for awhile. Till then stay happy & blessed.πŸ’«

With lots of lovely wishes 🌸

_ Lily

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Damn my soul

Judge me when I’m laying on the edge of knife,

Damn my soul with irreversible curse,

I’m so certain, you feel ecstasy blazing my skin on fire,

But I’m so done this time,

I sleep on bed full of ruined promises

My breathe inhales lies of my own blood

And you call it unconditional tie

Get a fool to fool you

but not me,

My heartache

and demon are my only enemies and friends,

Oh, they are so true!

Reality check #12 πŸ₯—Raw facts about meπŸ₯—

I’m knocking on the door of reality after a long time. Oh, it has been opened, so finally I’m stepping in but for sixty seconds.

πŸ₯Reality is still gorgeous like beforeπŸ₯

πŸ₯— πŸ₯—πŸ₯—πŸ₯—πŸ₯—πŸ₯—πŸ₯—πŸ₯—πŸ₯—

Today I’m sharing 4 raw random facts about me ⬇️ (I’m serious now, maybe not so much)

1. I don’t have any special time to write for blog. I write whenever words tingle my mind.

2. Sometime they ask me about the name of my site (yup, Hopeless fountain) By the way I’m not hopeless in reality.

3. I highly dislike to ask questions anyone (basically personal) & it’s also highly irritating when someone ask me (basically personal)

4. The toughest writing for me is award posts, moreover again questions. (Secret_ there are 25 pending nominations. Actually I’m dreaming about Nobel prize. Ah! I know it will remain only a dream)

So it ends here. Hope I’ll visit reality soon again.

πŸŽ‹πŸŽ‹πŸŽ‹πŸŽ‹πŸŽ‹πŸŽ‹πŸŽ‹πŸŽ‹πŸŽ‹πŸŽ‹πŸŽ‹πŸŽ‹πŸŽ‹


Caution ~ This post might be boring. Read at your own risk.πŸ™

My soul is stranger

My soul is stranger to those familiar faces

They demand to be my same kind,

Are they pretty at pretending?

Or is it a fashionable custom?

And I’m trapped in vanity box

but scattered in pieces

And the truth, nobody can build me whole.

The constant feel to be a stranger

An enigmatic existence!

Unexplainable doubts chew my brain cautiously.

Their alien sigh whispers in midnight

that I don’t belong here,

I’m lost stranger, unable to process their language.

Just like that trapped word inside an unfolded page,

The intelligent writer who created me

somehow forgot to put me in right book.

Crushed capsule #1

My grandfather was chasing my grandmother with a bamboo stick with which he used to beat the cows. I was eight years old spectator of this whole scene behind the bamboo wall. I wanted to snatch the stick from grandpa’s hand but I was a little terrified being. Grandma was crying out of fear standing other side of the pond. Grandpa was shouting on her with some vulgar words. I didn’t understand the meanings of those words. I used to ask my mashi (younger sister of my mother) about those words. She told me that I was a little girl, I shouldn’t utter those words. I asked her “So I can speak out these words when I would be grown up!” She was staring at me but she didn’t say anything. (Perhaps she didn’t know herself what to say)

Mashi adored me much. She was more like a friend. My summer vacation destination was grandma’s home every year. One evening, I did mimicry of my school friends in front of her. We both were giggling. Sometime my laughter was loud. I was so happy till mother called me.

” Why are you laughing so loud?” _ Mother’s voice was angry.

“Why? What happened?” _ I didn’t have any idea about the reason behind her question.

“You are a girl and good girls don’t laugh loud. What will people say? You better stop talking and laughing loud.” _ Her voice was strict. My eight years old brain was terrified a little. After that I hadn’t laughed when mother was around. I laughed loud only with my friends when there were no people around. I didn’t want to live a life like my grandma. My grandma got married to grandpa when she was twelve or thirteen years old. She lived a life of abuse, slavery and both physical and mental torture. She didn’t utter a single word against my grandpa in her whole life. Her wishes and freedom to live were killed by barbarian mentality. Or by tradition or society’s rules or fake honor or lack of education!

***********************

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And you were right next to me

saying darling, it’s okay,

listening all my trivial words.

when I was lame,

too lazy to response

And you were right next to me

saying just be with me.

When I was sleepy stoic,

nodding to your every question

And you were right next to me

saying sleep baby, I’ll be watching your face.

When my mood was aromantic

I was hazy to linger on you,

And you were right next to me

saying hold my hand and just sit.

Oh love, but I have a whinge

Tell me if you are a wizard

with blue magics

cause all your spells work

on every different me precisely.