Meaning

She was on the verge of giving up

Everything was vain

Her head was throbbing

Self-pity and reproach left her aghast.
She delved deep within

But hollow semed her being

For once she forgot

That life exists outside herself too.
She saw an emptiness

She fumbled

She lost her battle with her own self

She was on the verge of giving up.
Like the sullen charm of sweet weather

He came in

He did not belong she thought

Why him?
He scrounged within her

He saw inside her

To him she was something 

Made of more than just the sheen.
He saw her

And made her see herself

She made her realise that he belonged

And more than that, she did.
She was on the verge of giving up

But he showed her strength

And she found it within herself

The world made sense.

Still

And in those stars she looks for the answers

But they betrayed her once

She is scared to believe.
So she seeks the path through the moonlight

But the moon not as stark as the sun

Scatters its lights

And deludes her.
Barren, her intuition

Gives up

Feeling that waiting is the only option.
Walking now would be catastrophic,

So she ends up being catatonic.

Lost

She took a deep breath. Her face hot from the burning heat of the day. One more mile to go. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she picked up her long skirt that whimpered against the desert sand. Night was crawling in now. Her hair long and frizzy made the perfect silhouette of her against the purple twilight. Her journey had been long. Fruitless. Often she had been lost. Time was beating her. And she did not know how to fight back. She was tired, but she walked. For she knew, despite the desert being large, somewhere lay her destiny. And she could not lay still. For rather be lost than hopeless. 

With nothing but the hope for than ending mile she walked. There were no paths. The desert was vast. And the mile may curve inside. She may get lost in loops. But faith had her. She took a plunge,looked at the stars. In that moment her heart studied what her eyes saw and she found her way. The cool breeze went past her hair and she lay down. There it was. Her world. Her dreams, him and everything else that had been delayed to her. 

Thank You for listening

I whisper in ears

But who, pray, lends them?

In all the quietitude

My thoughts lay still in mayhem.

I look into the eyes

And speak and convey

But nobody cares

And the words lay astray.

I shout and I yell

But all the hollering no use

The mind remains unwell

No peace no truce.

“I heard you” they say

Maybe not a lie

“But were you ‘listening’?”

My far fetched cry.

Am I asking for a lot?

Just a minute or two

Don’t need no answers

 Just some solace to get me through.

But they just don’t get me

Why,the words mean differently to them

Oh! It doesn’t take a brain

But a heart to understand.

And now, here I am

With little breath left

Trying not to get effaced

My art not too deft.

With you I feel safe

The words don’t lose their taste

You listen with piety

Meaning never lost in haste.

Thank you dear fellas

For opening the doors

Making lines of silver

Of the hope that pours.

Blood

With dust and sand she built her dreams

But the tempest of truth swept it all.

With colors she sketched her dreams

But reality took away the light.

Her castles were burnt in fumes

Nothing left but mere sand dunes.

Charred remains of nothingness.

She carved her dreams and swore and fought

But alas she was tethered too taut

And every step was thus stopped.

She flung and tried

The shackles finally giving in to her stride.

Sand and gore were the magic potion

Emancipation was her salvation.

Everything now brown and rud

Scarred and wounded she painted her dreams in blood.