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  Dec 2018 Celia
Shah Fahad Sani
A blink of words
That can't be said
Or even be written
She is poem of thousand words

She is fierce and gentle
All at once
She's a song
An unending song

She is a sparkle
She is a shine
She is the only thing
That i want to call mine

She is my everyday
And an everynight
She is every morning
And an every twilight

She is all i know
She is all i see
She is a sweet melody
She is an  unmatching rhythm
Celia Nov 2018
Through thought, through mind
We leave this average world behind

Leave behind common sense
To take a chance and leap
All you need is a mind of openness
To bound through realms for you to keep

Stuck in a world full of duller minds
We're surrounded by those who will never understand
Inward we turn for adventure to find
For we have but one chance to escape this land

I escape to a place beyond compare
A place only I see beautifully
A sunkissed ocean I will only share
With he who makes sense of my poetry

Until then, I wait to change my fate
Like those who came before me
Hoping to find, and leave behind
The person I'm expected to be
Celia Nov 2018
Cuts so deep
I run me through
What am I supposed to do

The enemy of my own creation
This depression is a tireless hell
My greatest secret born in devastation
One many bare but dare not tell

The physical cuts are only skin deep
To those who live this wretched life
A window to the war raging within
Remain on the outside in lonely strife

We lie and put on a face
Unwilling to show the mess below
I know not how to share my case
With the people who love me so

So the battle rages within
The hands cut deep, the memories bleed
And I am alone.
Just some of my thoughts and feelings on what it is like to live with depression
Celia Oct 2018
A single thought
          can tear apart
What has been said
          to a lonely heart

A heart so fine
          so dear
It’s innocence stays
         and keeps it clear

This heart of mine
         you cannot hold
For two hands simply
         can break it alone

So alone I stay
         alone I remain
Using this excuse
         with inward shame

I dare not put
        my heart on the line
For I know it will break
        and no longer shine

So don’t think to pine
         this heart I bare
This weight, I carry alone
         and dare not share.
A little poem about love, or lack thereof.
Celia Sep 2018
Ode to the Artists
The givers of life
The ones who bring joy
And wondrous strife

Ode to the Poets
The ones who keep giving
The writers with nothing
Who make life worth living

Ode to the Music Makers
Who give melody to all
For life without glorious tune
Would be our downfall

Ode to the Travelers
The ones who devise
They stray far away
And never think twice

Ode to the Dreamers
The ones who make it true
They prove the impossible
To all who need but believe, and do

And Ode to the so-called Wicked
The ones they cast out
Who all know true sorrow
And armed with that, we breakout!

Breakout of convention
Of the daily routines
We make it our mission
To dare and do what we dream

For the ones who are ordinary
Who stay within the lines
They don't achieve anything at all
And live life unalive.
Just a little poem in celebration of us; the poets, dreamers, artists, and music makers. The UNordinary!

Because why fit in when you were born to stand out!
Celia Sep 2018
I was standing
      at my window
And all day I saw,
      across the way I saw,
On someone’s windowsill,
A geranium.

It looked like it was glowing,
       bright red
Almost looking like a tiny heart,
Far away.
Kinda random and kinda sweet. Just one of those days.
Celia Sep 2018
Two separate pillars,
        full of love and hate
Making their way down the gradual *****
        fast, but not fast enough.

My heart beats of a sad song of its own, a song of love
These pillars of love
Streaking my face
Painting in new colors
Descending one after another, freefall after freefall,

Descending as silent as silhouettes
Each one dances to its own song, but all serving
         a greater purpose
Each an unspoken lullaby

A melody of its own
If only I held the power of composition
If only that I had known
A remedy of a memory long forgotten
But if it's a story you're looking for
Then I ask you not to inquire again.
          Not again.               Nevermore.
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