Alone

Her Tears

Under the dark sky, She looked up with her eyes. She smiled wide when, The rays of light and thunder echoed through the grey. Knowing that the storm emerging slowly, Would destroy everything that will come in its way, She still stood there while her hair curtained her face. Droplets falling gently, She could breathe the sandy air. Uncovering the invisible layers, She rose above all her hidden fears. Forgetting all the mortal ties Throwing away her disguise Listening to her soul for the first time She could finally cry drenched by the tears of the immortal sky.

~ark

The Favourite?

The song I loved the most yesterday

On repeat, at the top of my playlist

Has now drifted away

It isn't that special

The memories it has, isn't my life now

The tears dried, that once fell due to its symphony

The ability it once had to put rhythm in every thought of mine,

Now, there is nothing to convey

From reality to memories

From the favourite one to one of them

It was a short journey,

I don't even remember how and when.

~ark

Her Loss

In the room full of familiar faces, She lay her head low, Trying to erase the memories, Which adulterated her soul. Everything she ever wanted, Never became her own. Covered in the cold snow, She shivered to see a ray of hope. The monotony once sowed, Sprouted in a plant, It was the only thing she could call her home. Frozen in the unknown frost, She tried to be known, in spite of being lost.

Banality grew like an old moss Covered by the shade of her loss Her life became a coin of toss She was now settled in her mind’s chaos.

.

I think I finally understand The rose's thorns I too want to be loved Without being touched

So I am no romantic flower I embody the stem I want to be ideal And practically unattainable

The Fall

And, as I watched the sun, Setting in the depths of the ocean, Sitting on the coast of darkness. I was relieved to witness, The rise of serenity. I laid on the sand, With a mind, finally free from the prison of thoughts. As the hours travelled like seconds, I soon realized that the peace wasn’t for long. Finding solace in the shed of despair, The sunrays will pierce my soul, again. The glare of the sun that followed me everywhere, With its fall, Will take everything with it, I will ever care for.

~ark

Either praise or curse,

I just wished for some words.

From your throat to my ears,

Something to know that you see my efforts.

I expected the whole world, But now, I have accepted my own world.

~ark

The Changed Tables

The tables stood there,

Watching new faces every year.

The words unsaid,

Were written on them everywhere.

Tired minds laid,

The tables wiped the shed tears.

Handling the burden of books,

It was their duty,

That I couldn't share.

Years after, I visited them,

Venting out my fears.

The tables stood there,

Watching new faces every year.

But today they had changed,

Maybe I could've changed earlier.

~ark

Chaos.

My mind and heart are always in chaos. Their conflicts are my contemplations, their silence my dilemma. 

Their contradicting desires to fulfil a single temptation, their yearning to solve something unsolvable. And that’s what keeps me going. Thinking, understanding, then losing it and then reassuring. 

For the cycle to go on, they must stand at opposite ends so the boat doesn’t sink.

They must act parallel to walk together until my last breath.

But then, how will peace be achievable? For how long must this war go on? One must find content, one must feel fulfilled. 

We choose how we live. Life is a series of them, like every mountain followed by a valley. Pain followed by bliss, riot followed by peace. Read it backwards and the perspective differs. 

And at every turn, isn’t every choice, a war of wants?

Peace isn’t constant, a result of constant choices rather. Choice to stay silent and then speak, choice to find peace in war or war in peace.

Thereby, I choose to find solace in conflict. 

Between heart and mind

They must be against each other so that I can stand against the world.

The Unread Files

As I open the cupboard of my life,

A mountain of files crashed on me.

The number was infinite,

I tried to organise the unopened files.

Wiping the dust off them,

I started keeping them inside.

But as time ran out,

I shoved them recklessly in the night.

The cupboard remained closed,

Opened sometimes.

But the files unread,

Exposed the cowardness I tried to hide.

Now I wonder when I take my last breath,

Would I be able to gather the strength,

To read those unread files?

~ark