I stare at that blazing yellow somewhere in a cold distant land
burning bright
wrapped in opulent egg whites.
I stand in gloom dressed in frivolous laughter
death and mist my only neighbours.
Death of my dreams
insufferable pain pelted by the wantonness of that veiled hope,
mists along those forgotten paths
I stumble along to find my way.
I relinquish control
lay beaten along the path
merely breathing,
waiting for my doom,
comprehending my upcoming destiny.
But then I taste hope,
that filthy sin,
mirage in this underworld;
I crawl to that toxicity with new vigour,
to that mystique cloak in my decadent world.
I bleed, scrape my palms and break my knees
Undaunted I still slither
to that adversity masked in serendipity.
That fluttering hope, spreading it’s lethal aroma
embedding me in an addiction
that rises faster than wildfire inflaming my every dream.
But again I find myself in that dismal land with my wrists slit,
with pain more unbearable
just because of that bitter toxicity.
There laying dead, wheezing on stolen dreams
I see it again in a far off land
that filthy sin, fizzling without it’s next casualty
But I know it will raise it’s head again
at the smallest flicker of survival,
at the slightest beam of moonlight,
because I do know
hope never dies,
it’s merely veiled.
(The highs and lows of hope. Is it venom, that poisonous leech that sets us up for disappointment, makes our loss unbearable? Or is it that blushing sunlight, sparkling bright in our dismal life that paves path to our dreams?)
_____________________________
Powerful. -.-
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Thank you!
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I just posted a poem called “Contented Words,” which was inspired by your attention to words and the language.
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Happy I was a cause of inspiration for something good. I will be sure to check it out.
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You continue you to use words in a thoughtful way. Possibly the best thing we can say about a writer, of any form, is that it is evident how much attention to detail he or she pays to the words. Your poems always beg that to be said of you, and the language is pleased.
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Thank you so much for your kind words. Means a lot when someone understands the equations of writing in this much depth.
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Hope.. Dreams..life and those heavy words. Loved it shikha!😊😊
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Thank you Gourav. :))
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Always welcome Shikha 😊😊
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You’ve really played around with your words on this one… Risky as always but it paid off
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Thank you.
I have a habit of prowling in the unknown and I often take the road less traveled. 😛
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Kudos to that
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But sometime it will bounce back and hit me in the face, I know it.
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Hahaha… Have fun while you’re on top of your game then
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Haha.. yea!
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Hope is the past projecting itself into the future. One does not care to live in the past.
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YES
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Reblogged this on Elfin Dragon's (LisaG) Blog and commented:
thoughts akin my own, beautifully written in prose
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Thank you Lisa. Happy you like it enough to reblog it.
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Hope is what keeps you alive, your dead without it.
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There are two sides of every coin. Similarly there are two sides of hope too. But you are absolutely right. Hope is the fuel that drives us to our destination.
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I totally understand the other side, its really a matter of balance….thanks!
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Good one Shikha.
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Thanks Siddhartha:)
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At once strange and familiar words. A poem fizzling with life.
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Thank you ! 💙
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