What love is-

What love is-


They say,
This- is what love is,
But you wouldn’t know now,
Would you?… referring to me,
A rendition, much like,
The sensational rhymes
Of a love poem,
Pours out of them.

I listen,
I have to-
An emotion which seems to be
An equivalent, to the way
I gaze at a cup of
Steaming black coffee,
Enchanted by the
Swirls of its steam;
of that first sip.

An emotion which almost,
Feels like the yearning
With which I wrap myself
Around my one gifted duvet,
A visit,
Whose end I dread.

An emotion akin to
The warmth which embraces me
Each moment I happen,
Upon the words of my lord.
Pleasant to the ears,
Soothing to the soul.

An emotion which almost,
Almost feels like the cause,
Of my heart to bit a little faster,
At the sight of my study table;
Always another book to read.
How I hate them.
Oh, how I love them.

But they say-
I do not know what love is.
Maybe, I don’t.

The beautiful picture above Is courtesy of Pinterest.

A conversation with Depression-

A conversation with Depression-


Depression knocked on my door,
And I told it,
Have a seat,
It wasn’t even dawn,
At least let me have a cup of coffee,
In peace, at least-
I said to my depression.

Depression knocked on my door,
And I welcomed it
With open arms,
We’ve been together
For so long now,
We might as well be friends,
Depression knocked and I welcomed it.

Depression knocked on my door,
And we had a one sided-
While the sky turned golden behind us,
I said-
You’ve had your stay
And I have entertained you,
Now- it’s time to take your leave,
I said to my depression.

Depression knocked on my door,
Like an unwanted guest,
Which tends to overstay it’s welcome.
But the birds sung a melodious,
Tune In the background,
And I turned the door knob
To a lock,
With a passion I didn’t think,
Existed within me,
I said to my depression-
We are done!

The above image is courtesy of Our heat is gospel.tumblr