Breathing-

Breathing-

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I can breathe,
Almost;
The words
Stuck in my throat,
Flow from the tips,
Of my fingers and I
Can breathe-

The thoughts,
Forming word salad
In my Brain
Are settling,
Above the dark Mist,
Surrounding me, and I
Can breathe-

The tears,
Constantly gracing,
The skin
On my cheeks,
Have resorted
To ooze,
In the form of oxygen,
A prayer,
From my lips and I
Can
breathe-
Pray,
Wish…
This momentt, lasts 
For eternity.


I’ve got news! No I’m not writing a book. But, I just got myself a Facebook page. It’s called words of a random and i’ld really appreciate it, if you’d check it out and like and share as well. It’s going to be a full-on poetry and prose page with full length poems inserted into an image. Looking forward to connecting with y’all. Here’s the link: words of a random

Rock bottom-

Rock bottom-

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It is a horrible place
To be, where the ground,
Has rubbed against your bare
Body for so long, it becomes-
Normal? Being covered in
Dirt.

It is a horrible place
To dwell in, when darkness
Lasts more than its allotted 12
Hours, and the rays of light
Shining through becomes
The abnormal. Hope is not
Normal?

It is a horrible place
To live, surrounded by
Silence, embraced by its
Cunning arms and the sound
Of another soul, reaching out
Becomes noise. Friends become
Nuisance?

It is a horrible place
To be, where all that is wrong
Seem right, and all that is light
Appears distorted.
When an abyss, becomes
Home?
It is a horrible place
To be- alone.

Unbroken-

Unbroken-

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You held me,
But I am still standing,
You tied me,
But I’m still walking,
You drowned me,
But I breathe under water,
You can break me,
But my pieces would suffice me.

You whisper-
When darkness surrounds me,
Like a coward,
Hiding whilst there’s lighting.
You create-
Illusions around me,
Unaware-
My Lord’s, all the light I need.

You can hold me,
But I’ll still be standing,
You can break me,
My pieces would suffice me.

The boy by the sea-

The boy by the sea-

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His talk was as loud as,
His silence while crying;
He’d mastered the art of,
Concealing his downfalls;
When the moon graced
The sky,
You’d find him,
Under the starlight.

His smile was as bright as,
The darkness he kept hidden;
And no one would reach out,
None knew he needed healing;
When the sky turned a shade,
He could live without concealment,
You’d find him by the bank,
Alone with his reflection.

When you sight him,
By the sea,
In reply to, “how you’re feeling”.
He’d smile,
Praise his lord and add,
“I cannot count my blessings”.

In spite of the darkness,
In spite of his heart bleeding,
It could have been worse,
Is the mantra he keeps repeating.
His talk was as loud as,
His silence while crying,
His strength is reflected,
In his hope to keep on living.


P.S what had happened was, my days got mixed up yesterday. I thought it was Wednesday already when it was actually Tuesday (yes, I am that eager for the weekend to come) and hence, I accidentally posted the writers poem Wednesday, yesterday instead of today.

Past the darkness-

Past the darkness-

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Your world was full of darkness,
So I handed you a rope,
To lead you down a pathway,
To the light my soul calls home.

But darkness had convinced you,
It’s warmth was all you need,
The light would add to you nothing,
But unnecessary heat.

Your world was full of darkness,
So I handed you some words,
To keep you company as,
A reminder you’re not alone.

But darkness had convinced you,
It was all the friend you need,
So you bundled up the pages,
Putting a torch to our friendship.

Your world- so full of darkness,
And it hurts you cannot see,
The wings ingrown within you,
You’ve had all you needed to flee.

If only you could- look past the darkness,
For a moment… you will see.
Until then my rope’s still hanging,
To pull you down, whenever you need.

Once upon poetry-

Once upon poetry-

There was a time when poetry was a solace, an escape, a listening ear at a time of heartache. It was the balm to wounds burrowed by others; an antidote to words hurled.
It’s ready arms available with the sun out, with the night in, on stormy and sandy days alike- it was always there.

There was a time when poetry was a witness to flood of waterworks; a testament to minor victories and the chart of a rollercoaster journey. It marked the lows, the highs and the stagnant plateau. It was a friend when friends were few.

And you wonder, why I still write poetry? Wouldn’t leaving it be a great injustice… not even that I could.

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I am much more-

I am much more-

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To all the friends
I pushed aside-
Sent every call,
To voice message .

Somedays my dark
Empowers me,
I blink, I breathe,
That’s all I can be.

To all the friends,
Who stood by me,
From dawn to dusk
And the dark in between.

When sorrow wipes
Aside my joy,
Your thoughts, remind me,
I am much more.

Much more than pain
Much more than tears
Much more than another,
Sad ending.

Because of you-
I am much more.

V- Victory

V- Victory

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There will be days,
When you’ll think that you can’t;
You’ll gaze all around you,
Not a kind eye you’ll find;
You may wish that the ground,
Should split into two,
Pulling you into an abyss,
Where you’ll be understood.

There will be days,
When you’ll think to the past;
And the memories locked up
Would surface to light,
You’d search for solace,
In the arms of your kind,
Not a shoulder would hold You,
While you wither inside.

There will be days,
When you’ll think that you can’t,
But you will; don’t you give up,
victory is at hand.

N- Nothingness

N- Nothingness

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I’ve felt the arms of sadness,
wrapped around me,
Engulfing,
Pulled deep into-
its trenches;
Where light,
At first visible,
Dims without one
Realising it.

I’ve felt the soft hands of joy,
Pulsating,
Overwhelming,
Thronged into its
Never ending fantasies
Dreams,
Delusions,
Future created,
Where light and only
Light is seen,
Where darkness
Does not exist-
In that moment.

But the arms of nothingness
Cannot be compared.
The coldest of place,
The hardest of state;
A prison cell with an
open door,
Which you can’t escape.
For how can you walk out
A free man,
When you don’t even know
You’re in jail.

As close as it gets-

As close as it gets-

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For some,
It takes the form of,
a cup of black coffee,
Drowning in its scintillating,
Effect.
Knowing,
Without a doubt,
Today will be okay.

The act of,
Staring at the face,
Looking back from the glass,
And re-affirming the statement,
Today, I can.

For some,
It takes-
a little more tears,
A lot more prayer,
An occasional day off,
To feel slightly better.

And sometimes,
Putting on a mask,
Which looks like a smiley,
And says the words “I’m fine”,
Is as close as it gets.