When I saw your face,  
Did I miss the light in your black?  
Did I miss looking at your kindness in the black?  
Did I miss your black somehow?  
Did I miss looking at your heart in your black?  
Did I miss you?  
Did I miss looking at your black?  
Did I miss looking at the color of your face?  
Did I miss looking at your gleaming smile?  
Did I miss that twinkle when you smiled?  
Did I miss you after all?  
©shivpoetesspriya

Somebody is talking about my subject.  
I know  
The subject of love is popular as sustaining...

Somebody is talking about my subject.  
They touch the area of my heart and pluck a flower for themselves, and they are trying to think about my subject.

My subject and I are immersed in our daily talks.  
We see you and laugh.

The last thing I want to say aloud is that I am grateful to laugh alongside my subject.

My subject, I both miss you and love you.  
©shivpoetesspriya

You are my world.  
I found you in my emotions.  

The gleaming shine my heart tries to hold onto is flying away.  

I'm supposed to ease my lyrics like a safety glass.  
Can you see me through this window and ask me to join you?  

But you were left behind on the track.  

I felt the gleaming shine return to my heart.  
It fixed my safety glass.  

I see you across the same junction now.  
Shall we walk together?  

©shivpoetesspriya

O emotional and special pieces,  
I don't want to forget all the parts that I value.

I think I have lost the ashes and charcoal of past emotional dealings of my heart.

Sometimes, the coincidences of our situations leave me feeling helplessly lost.

When you are dealing with struggles, I may not fully understand them as I don't have your share.  
And I'm dealing with mine!

I want to listen to you when you need to talk.  
I wish I were always there to listen when you need to talk!  
I think our internal decoration needs more understanding between our levels.

Sometimes, it feels sad.  
When I want to smile and help you, you have your bitterness to handle.  
And when you are ready to extend your hand to me, I have my bitterness to handle!

I do think that our internal decoration needs more understanding, and I know that we are likely determined to support each other through our struggles.

Are we becoming the ones who are losing all the remnants of past emotional experiences while dealing with our difficulties?
©shivpoetesspriya

We had a cup of coffee together in our lily garden. Poppy Bird, Mommy Bird, and I were filled with our sweet talk and the small stories we usually shared during our chit-chat at evening tea!

I romped in our garden and shared my relief with the cold wind! Happily, I sat near the swing in our garden!

To feel happy without any perfect reason is a great relief. Smiling in this moment makes you feel like you are your own best friend!

And you always feel like chirping when you are happy!

I can't throw the dry leaves away from the *** I care for during my leisure time at home! This time, I decided to do some creative work with the dried leaves, which had turned pale yellow!

I planned to give them beautiful colors by painting the dry leaves with attractive hues to look pretty in my room!

While looking at the new look I gave to my flowers and the dried leaves, I remembered a conversation I had with my friend Bird the other day! She asked me, "If you are your best friend, then how do you talk to yourself?"

I looked at the bold colors I had given to the leaves. They felt very pale, although they had an attractive gleam!

Oh, this gloominess! It doesn't feel rosy at all!  
Oh, this gloominess doesn't look attractive at all!  
Oh, this gloominess doesn't look loving without the thoughts of your beloved!  
Oh, this longing doesn’t look good without remembering your beloved!  

I felt this and looked in the mirror. The flower *** in my hand was trying to make me see a rose among the hidden stems!

The rose was not there in the ***! The longing didn't look attractive, even with the imaginary rose!

I had other friends kept tied in a silly small cage! I happily freed them and started chirping to see them off! They tweeted back and told me they would see me daily in my flower garden!

I gave them a waving hand as I looked at them flying from my window! Oh, this window helps, I thought to myself, and fell asleep!  
©shivpoetesspriya

Silence has the eyes
that doesn't want to talk.

Silence!
It is the silence that doesn't want to talk.

Does silence talk anyway?

The little broken heart understands!

The unspoken sentiment of the heart tells a story.
Amidst the struggle, it offers suggestions.
The silent heart attempts to understand the exploration of the hopes and the contemplations within the silence.

The broken heart doesn't leave its way.

The gift of the deep feeling and its understanding sparkles, and it understands the silence that understands the silence behind the silent eyes.

Does silence talk anyway?
The pretty little heart, let's rest in the contemplations of the silent heart within the silence.
©shivpoetesspriya

Did I remember those eyes?
Did I remember your eyes and cry?

Did I call you to listen to my heart?
Did I remember you?

Did I remember the look of your face?
Did I remember that you were upset with me?

When did you come so close?
And you went away?

Did I remember you and cried?
©shivpoetesspriya

How happy my heart feels while taking and playing tiny steps with you.

When you are with me, I feel like dancing on my tiptoes.

Your smile always has a captivating win over my heart.

My heart overflows with joy, and I dance and dance with this blissful happiness that makes my heart swaddled in singing along with your dancing steps.

A call of a symphony of joy strikes me, and I feel happy.
It is happiness when you dance in my heart, or I get to dance with you.
©shivpoetesspriya

I didn't say it.
I didn't say it because I did not say it without any purpose.
But now, since it was without any purpose, I feel it is still within the range of some purpose.

I didn't want to lie, I know.
But I think my hesitancy tried to hide a certain thing without intervening, with my no purpose and reason.

My hesitancy may have hidden something out of habit.

I wish all of the above were out of love towards you.
I cry about it as I say it.

Now, since I can't take back my hesitancy show that's already shown,
I wish the hesitancy feels the regret out of love-
A momentary regret out of love- that will pass quickly before reaching the point of minimalism.
©shivpoetesspriya

You don't want to talk, talk, and talk!
But you have a habit of listening, listening, and listening!
I get that right.

There is a needle that hits rightly.
The settling thing takes work.
The never-easy mode of letting go and forgiving is under amendation.

The following gems pave the way, but the bundle of reasons covered with expectations causes hurt.

I know.
Thankfully, there is a needle that hits rightly.

My ways are now more rooted in a deep allowance to you, without messing with you and burning with fire.
It has taken the form of fire in my heart, and since I'm a water person, with that fire in my heart, I immerse myself in water.

Thankfully, I know,
A clock is inside, apt for its time, and it hits the needle just right.
©shivpoetesspriya

A state of longingly position aligns with a reference that echoes your chivalry.

Its commissural linkage is close to my heart and tied with the entrusting of pointing responsibility that reaches for the protective politeness of my heart.
Your engraving look-see and the precision of the auspicious gap connects with my juncture of turning point to commune with my hope for leading me to a closed curve for taking charge of a long stop to catch my missed goals.

I started taking long walks to check my lagging.
Meanwhile, I tried performing in the loops at the ridges to release the compaction of the worthy pivot, eliminate any misvalue, and encourage my determined pursuit by retaining it as the heartening focus of my attempt.
©shivpoetesspriya

Did you ever think I would write about my disappointments with you?

Did you ever think I was upset with you?

Are you bothered about me?
The greatest truth it binds,
My good actions benefit me, and the wrong ones have a straying effect on me.

But a little notion,
a small bond my heart yearns for, is in the ashes
because I feel you don't care about me!
©shivpoetesspriya

You did not look at me because you wanted to keep me safe?
Your side gaze to a distance seems like a reason, even though I don't know much about it.

It doesn't matter to you if I feel despair when you don't give me your gaze.
Why?
To keep me safe, with what heart shall I cry the tears of understanding?

My understanding will change.
For that, shall I detach myself from not looking at you?
For what? Is it to see you again with my above questions and vote for myself to be more, right?
©shivpoetesspriya

I'm sorry.
The words said were not only about feelings that conveyed surface-level emotions, but I realized those words were much deeper in feelings and conveyed something more than that.

But how would I have understood about it then?
I don't know if I'm about to change my emotions for you, so I don't know.

One can write dignified phrases to offer a reward and put something on a pedestal to adore it thoroughly. Similarly, one can write and create hatred against someone wholeheartedly in writing: all this happens in writing.

I think one can ask oneself while writing;
Did you open up your wounds and revisit your emotions without scratching them but feel hurt again?

It is like you are holding your piece in front of you and asking if it broke you or if you laughed at it when it sang a sad song to you.

I agree; my childishness continues, and I feel hurt when you can look at me but choose not to!
©shivpoetesspriya

The rigidness and stubbornness.
It seems like a waste.

At the end of the day, all its tenants
are galloped by the sorrow.

When sorrowing eyes lower down,
they weep the pain of their heart.

And again, in just a few seconds.
The rigidness.
The stubbornness.
It seems like a waste of its futile, growling, meek efforts!
©shivpoetesspriya

A faintly meagering idea lacking enough conviction soon ought to disappear, along with my futile intention for not having any decisive effect!
The reasoned heart is the principal constituent behind our inclination!
With its influencing nature and directiveness, our intention caters to our longing by stirring our inherent cause for attaining it.

The distressing inner sphere involves the anguish of not achieving our desires and potentialities. It is a universal human experience that one can relate to.
But our saviour, the soul guardian, the keeper, the preserver, the determined paladin, the pure reason and tone- this is our intention.

Our intention remains intact. It wanders in us and stays behind every basis and ground in us. It firmly persists in our blazing conscience, consciousness, and subconsciousness, thus becoming a testament to our resilience and capacity for growth.
©shivpoetesspriya

I don't feel my reasons and excuses will ever end. After seeing you, I will always expect your gaze, and this persistence will add a new chapter to my book.

I don't feel that the waves in my book stop hitting rock bottom to see if you are looking at me, so my reasons and motivation persist; the book remains incomplete as the chapters never conclude.

This never-ending book reminds me of your particular gaze, which I yearn to feel in my heart. But my expectation that you should look at me wins, and so the book always remains incomplete with its futile persistence.
©shivpoetesspriya

If I have developed feelings for you, it's a good turn. At least it's better than constantly fighting with you.

But if it's about developing feelings, it's more than that because you're always more than just a mother.

Will my feelings lead me to a safe place?
A safe place for my conversations with you?

Won't it be more than feelings?
I wish it were more than feelings because you are always more than a mother.
©shivpoetesspriya

It hurts when you look at me, and I'm not there.

My entire being hurts, and there is something I can't digest when you don't look at me.

Today, it hurts even more because I am unable to meet your gaze.

I used to be angry and tell the illusion and delusion in me about me never missing your gaze and ascertaining without confusion about how it feels when you look at me, and I never miss it.

But today, a whole of me is very lonely.
And it hurts that I miss all your gazes, especially your special frowning capabilities.
©shivpoetesspriya

People hold their dearest treasures within themselves.
People cherish their closest friends and family.
And life goes on.
People experience joy and sorrow throughout life's ups and downs.

One thing is true for me: yours is a clear picture that I carry in my heart, and I am captivated by your look.

I carry your picture in my heart, and I can sense you are tired of me.
Despite all the madness in the world, I have this connection, even though I think you are tired of me.

Your gaze, which I feel is tired of me, has a special place in my heart.

I hope I cross the upper ladder to feel your sweet smile.
©shivpoetesspriya

If I look at my right,
I know I'm going to miss you looking at me.
I will surely miss you when you look at me in my old place.
Because the heart always goes back to an old place.

Will you leave me alone there?

If I look at my right, I know I will have to tell myself to ignore that you are ignoring me, and despite you ignoring me, I will have to keep up my feelings for you.

Why.

The reason is intact with me.
Does a selfish heart have a reason?
The reason that you always see me?

A selfish heart will no longer be a selfish heart then.
©shivpoetesspriya

I don't want to be this close to you
That you keep ignoring me.

Something is not digesting that is
when you don't look at me.

Why is your look so important to me?
Just a simple look?
A small wish?
Is it so hard to fulfill?

Or to know that when I feel Nothing for you, a simple look also doesn't mean anything.

So I was close to you to feel what?
©shivpoetesspriya

Is it possible for anything to grow solely based on wanting your gaze?
Will the weak rooting inside grow with the filamentary feelings of wanting your gaze?

If it can, let me know about my intention,
then there is a chance I can plunge into to be closer to you.

With what light shall I carry this dive?
With what hope?
I feel the intentions are aware of not receiving your gaze, which is my base and rooting.
©shivpoetesspriya

There is no attachment.
There is no affection.

But there is enough pain.

If you don't look at me, Know one thing for sure.
You would not get me at my last place.
Because I feel the efforts in the last place are devoid of your touch!

There is enough pain.
And I don't wish to fall into any trap of your excuses.

Because for me, I have to deal with my chronicles of pain.
©shivpoetesspriya

The "No feelings" can't state there is no love!
The "no feelings" and the emphasis on the intention of fighting do not mean there is no love.
And the intention to fight is like wanting to fight, so it can state there is a fight.
So, for that reason, yes, there is a fight.

But as you tend to ignore me, and for my sake,
Can I say there is no love even when we agree that there may still be love present despite fighting?

I wish I were with you at your side of the sea.
I wish I were ever with you despite you ignoring me.
Know that there is a fight while facing that supporting emotion for you, as you tend to ignore me!
©shivpoetesspriya

I wonder if this desire and the bond that I feel in my heart—a bond that feels like a bond of mother and child—will ever be fulfilled. But you are always more than a mother, aren't you?

Mothers are even termed superior to any gods.

Then, if you are more than a mother, what should it be in my heart?

Let it be goodness, as it is the only thing that saves us from trouble!

But this bond is empty, I feel.

What bond is that? Where there is no attachment or feelings?

What keeps you moving on? It is painful when you choose not to look at me even though you can. It is always this madness, and I refer to it as pain!

©shivpoetesspriya

It feels like magic when a piece of you sings a music genre that is named love.
It feels like a special musical genre with a familiar beat that greets and follows my heart.
It holds the capacity to rewind the memories of love.
And when that happens, I listen to you daily, my playlist!
An unlocked melody that was so strange once now becomes every song in my entire playlist.
So, I hear you daily in all the songs.
Those song- genres are luckily named love.
And I figured it out as your melodies in my playlist!
©shivpoetesspriya

The newly married couple, Mr. Butter Masala and Mrs. Maggie Butter Masala reached their farmhouse at Kasauli Hills for summer vacation.

Standing on the balcony of their room, Mrs. Maggie asked Mr. Butter, "Would you like to join me in seeing the sunset point today?

"Sure, I also wanted to introduce you to two friends tonight!" Mr. Butter replied.

"That's a nice plan," Mrs. Maggie said.

"Would you like a cup of ginger tea?" asked Mr. Butter.

"You're the world's best tea maker; I would love to have it," said Mrs. Maggie. "But would you like to have tea cake along with it?"

Mr. Butter and Mrs. Maggie had a wonderful time at Kasauli Hills Station, which had stunning scenery and delicious food. When they got ready for their evening plans to watch the beautiful sunset and meet their friends, they walked down the hill station with their hands a little far away from each other, lost in thought about whether they wanted to hold hands.

As they enjoyed the sweet cold air while walking down and the peaceful scenery around, they were silent but present with each other.

"Sweetly, Mr. Butter said, 'You look beautiful in this orange dress.'"
"You look dapper in your blue suit, too!" replied Mrs. Maggie shyly. "

Both Mr. Butter and Mrs. Maggie reached the sunset point and smiled while watching the sun gracefully settling down, leaving beautiful tints of colors in the sky. They looked shy and wanted to talk but didn't speak that much.

When Mrs. Maggie asked Mr. Butter anything, he answered and looked at Mrs. Maggie's face, but shy Mrs. Maggie looked away. If Mr. Butter had asked anything of Mrs. Maggie, she replied and looked away with a smile but was present with him. So, somehow, they only talked a little.
Amidst the simple conversation between Mr. Butter and Mrs. Maggie, nature looked serene with excellent mountain scenery and greenery. The couples walked to a place to dine with their friends.

Mr. Hakka and Mrs. Hakka welcomed Mr. Butter and Mrs. Maggie. They greeted each other enthusiastically. Mr. Hakka and Mr. Butter were old friends and laughed at many stories.

As they planned to order some drinks, Mrs. Maggie generously offered them the peanut chaat she had prepared.

"What would you like to have? Any favorites in the drink?" asked Mr. Hakka.

"I am happy with the lemon water!" Mrs. Maggie replied contentedly.

"Are you also going to drink?" asked Mrs. Maggie curiously, looking at Mr. Butter.

"Will you start to faint if you drink too much?" asked the tensed Mrs. Maggie.

While Mr. Hakka made fun of Mr. Butter, Mr. Butter shyly assured Mrs. Maggie that she could take care of him if he found it difficult to stand.

"Yes, but we should protect each other. Please don't drink so much that you lose your senses!" said Mrs. Maggie (sounding concerned).

"I won't," assured Mr. Butter.
After a beautiful dinner get-together, the couples prepared to leave for their stay station.

This time, Mr. Butter extended his hand towards Mrs. Maggie to go back to their hill station. Mrs. Maggie felt happy, and they looked a little hesitant and shy, but they looked pleased. They thought they would talk to each other, but they didn't speak much.

That night, when they strolled in their garden poach area, nature looked warmly pleased by them, and stars shone on them. Mr. Butter turned to Mrs. Maggie to initiate a heartfelt conversation and began with an intriguing question. He lovingly asked if she would care for him throughout his life and be there for him through all the ups and downs. Mrs. Maggie's eyes twinkled when she started answering Mr. Butter. She lovingly replied to him, saying, 'I'm always just a hand away from you. You may want to feel my presence, then always hold your hand towards your chest and feel my presence in the pure silence of your heart. The only thing that I worry about is that nothing should ever happen to you. Would you always take care of yourself? Will you please do that for me?

Mrs. Maggie's words moved Mr. Butter so much that he hugged her in response.
The stars already shining on them started gazing at the moon, which was about to appear clear amidst the clouds. When the moon caught the star's gaze, he lovingly smiled at the couples and made a wish to the stars that were twinkling in the distance.

The serene nature and harmonious couples exuded a tranquil and blissful aura of togetherness.
In this way, the two unique couples, Ms. Maggie and Mr. Butter, remained calm and patient while listening to each other's daily worries and casual conversations, feeling satisfied and content in silence.
On a slightly sweet note, even though they didn't converse much, they were always present with each other throughout their journey!

©shivpoetesspriya

O beloved, you are my season.
Now that I have figured this out.
I see all my seasons have gone.

I liked a particular song and wanted to avoid touching the chords of my heart so as not to disturb that song and its tune.

Please don't ask what made my pain. What elements made such feelings?
When our minds are stuck, our hearts get stuck, too.
Tears may be the result here!

I hope the music heals and makes you soft.
I hope you heal and sing your worries away.
I hope you feel your heart singing along with the music and be happy.

Please don't ask me what made my anger.
The water. It is like water. Ready to wash off oneself!

I hope you always heal, especially when you struggle to let go of things.
©shivpoetesspriya

O darling,
What is life?
When you don't understand?

Is it some botheration eating you when you want to hum a love tune?

What is life?
When you don't understand?
Darling.

Is it the weight of worry settling in your stomach,
Weighing you down until you're finally free from the crunch?

What is life?
When you don't understand?
Darling.

I feel it.
It's all overwhelming, like facing something big.
Facing and letting go of everything all at once!

What is it, my darling?
What is life?
When you don't understand?
©shivpoetesspriya

Why did it hurt me?
By looking at those eyes
Why did it hurt me?

Did it try to touch the
veil of my emotions?

Or, they were only the stranger's eyes!

Why did I feel hurt?
Did it try to touch the
veil of my emotions and
want to make me feel that I have sadness
hid beneath me, and I'm alone in my phase?

Why did it hurt me?
Or, they were only the stranger's eyes that turned my feelings so prominent about them!
©shivpoetesspriya

Tears don't dry.
They come out in drops and get absorbed under the skin!

Tears don't easily dry.
They try to pierce beneath the skin with old stories and tales.

Tears don't dry quickly,
but thankfully, I was able to save myself from touching the ruins that tears made me see.

Tears don't dry just like that!
They intend to make us feel our emotions and come to terms with reality!

Teardrops don't dry up!
They become absorbed under our skin, and we find the courage to move forward in their fiery glow.
©shivpoetesspriya

A broken heart succumbing to emotional collapse finds solace in its only treasure - the memories.

The fire of hope it always deals with takes on an enthusiastic approach after remembering the sweet memories held within its heart.

In the fire, no relationship dies.
In fact, our mind also never dies!
How could memories lose their essence?

The memories hold serenity and peace,
But ask yourself, are you not feeling helpless due to your circumstances?
Are you doing things not from your heart but for the sake of circumstances?
©shivpoetesspriya

I feel something offbeat while listening to a song.
For the sake of the collapsed fate,
My heart lightens a candle, and it keeps burning.

But I feel something off track.
The feelings of the past.
Why it has to collide with me
for making my present repent.

I feel something is offbeat,
It is unaware of the pain my heart holds.

My thorn story has never escaped
any situation.

But here, I feel something offbeat.
That does not match the
challenge forming inside me.

I feel something off track, and I'm still recollecting.
What is sharper? The external troubles or the
offbeat feelings of a helpless heart!
©shivpoetesspriya

Your face appears when the past wounds turn greener.
You live in your world without knowing my feelings for you.

I feel bluer as this bridge of understanding and realization turns rosier!

I can feel you smiling by looking at the stars when I see you. I cherish it as my gift, a residue of your memories.

Your face appears when the past wounds turn greener.
I see you looking up at the stars with a smile, and I consider it a residual gift of your memories.

©shivpoetesspriya

All songs remind me of the exact position of your busy world.
The position is clear in terms of their busyness.

The moment I recalled your tiredness
in talking an extra line to me reminded me
their exact position.

Your tone speaks a lot.

Sometimes, I am afraid that I have entered your reign and will never be able to come out.

I'm afraid I'll always be able to listen to my favorite songs or not.

I am afraid I will be able to write a song with the simple lyrics of love and sorrow or not.

All songs remind me of the exact position of your busy world.
The position is accurate in terms of their busyness.

I am holding onto hope through my playlist, holding its hand and moving forward, facing all the emotions.
©shivpoetesspriya

I searched many times for a memory of your conversation with me.

But all the tunes reminded me
of my empty hands with their barren look
having no memories.

This rhythm I can't forget!
It reminds me of not having
any conversation memories of you with me.
Their glimmers of immersed yearning fill these sad songs.
And sometimes, I need to be mindful of pursuing their objectives while listening to their nurtured flow!
©shivpoetesspriya

O dearly loved songs,
You remind me of my love songs
and dedicated poetry!
I hope someday I love myself in the same manner I love you!

O dearly loved songs!
You taught me how to fill my poetry with beautiful colors and emotions!
I agree; I wouldn't have known how to express softness and bravery in them if I hadn't felt you!

I hope I love myself the same way I love you.

I began reading the first chapter to learn how to feel the rhythm and sing, but I became deeply entangled in loving the ups and downs of the beats you play to the core of the tragedies I think in every chapter!

But my heart is grateful to you because if I hadn't felt you, I wouldn't have known the beautiful emotions and colors that often come with their probability, yet still shine out with glimmers of innocence!

©shivpoetesspriya

What did I miss while writing this piece?
I looked at the blue sky, a red flower in the garden,
and the beautiful sea,
but I missed you, all the colors of my heart.

What did I miss while writing a song?
Was it a sweet lullaby that has gone now?
But if you ask me what I miss all the time,
It's a churning tune of the piano that lurks to fit into my writing piece.

Abiding by these feelings while writing,
I strive to write more to find what I'm searching for,
And in the rhythm of verses, I see my yearning disperse!
©shivpoetesspriya

Despite my misinterpretation, I keep recording the adventures of the broken rope that I feel and see I am climbing.

I keep gazing at it and analyzing it!

I often ask the challenging wall if it has forsaken me, and it always gives me a tender look.

I keep gazing at it and analyzing it!

Do I have to continue with this broken faith?
Can a person live with a broken faith logically?
If so, can the logical mind stop advising me?

I can't stop wondering about it and analyzing it!

The striving heaviness of my heart wants to touch that ray of sunshine and find ways to climb the hope of a broken faith!

I feel it and see it.
Faithfulness is having a hard time under the most challenging circumstances.

I keep wondering like a gawking bird!

This time, I have noticed that the faithful heart is emerging powerfully amidst all the odds and circumstances!
©shivpoetesspriya

O Ghamgusaar!
He.. O...Mere. O.. Yaara..
Iss Dosti ke naseeb
ko bachcale!

Tumne is bejaan ruh ko
khwaish ban ke kya dawa pilai.
ki.
Aaj hawa apna rut mod chali,
aur hume rulake chali gayi!

Khuda fakir banke na aaya!
Aur hum betaab reha gaye,
Is Sehar mein din ke ujaale tak!

Lekin.
O Ghamgusaar!
Aaj ye aankhon ke ansu
kehena hai, chahate tumse
ki in dhadkano ne seekha hai jeena tumse!

Isliye.
He..O...Mere. O.. Dil-Yaara!
Iss Dosti ke naseeb ko bachcale!
©shivpoetesspriya

Rewind that Love,
O beloved,
When you asked
for my Love, and I denied it.

Dear O,

Rewind that Love,
When I asked for
your Love, and you denied it.

Rewind that Love,
O beloved,
when we both tormented for
each other's Love!

Dear O,

Rewind that Love,
Dear O,

Rewind that Love, O beloved,
When you were my idol
and I was yours.

©shivpoetesspriya

The longing flames of an uninvited love!

Handsome people make no sense to me!
A smoke rising and coming out in gray from the chimney makes no sense.
Today, I have my heart and you in the flames of my soul, which makes sense.

In this darkness,
finding a space, a reason to fight
while singing a no-claim song!
The winds of doubt want to know if it all makes sense somehow!

Things left to say are spinning around at the corner to find a degree to resolve my conflict!
Finding a space, a reason to fight,
Sometimes, it turns out to be a meaningless noise.

But it has left me with a yearning to glow that remains so clear!

That intact shape,
reminds me and shows me a bond,
So today, the only thing that makes sense is having my heart and you in the flames of my soul!

©shivpoetesspriya

Long conversations,
Now gone for the moment!

These chains of drowning feelings are sad.
They stand before me with their eyes open!
They tell me about your conversations
which you never had!

The long conversations,
Now gone for the moment!

The moments of love,
Thirsty with their looks
were supposed to take me back to you!

The long conversations you never had
wanted to fly their zone out in the Milky Way of the sky!
All of them are now gone for the moment!

All of them are gone now,
Left alone with their thirsty look
for backing their moments of love!

But they realized today,
their little strength was in keeping up the fragility,
Keeping up all of the fragility for you!
©shivpoetesspriya

I don't know thee,
thou art a beautiful Coincidence!

I don't know thee,
thou art a beautiful inheritance!

You own a soul that touches me!
I don't know thee,
thou art a beautiful Coincidence!

You attract me without saying a word!
I don't know thee,
thou art a beautiful Coincidence and
a beautiful inheritance that I feel under my breath.

I don't know you!
I don't know you!

©shivpoetesspriya

Honesty and Poetry healed my broken and blue!

A college is a refreshing start for any individual, especially those who have always been raised very protectively and provided the support of walls and boundaries covering them and acting as their saviors!
A towering Six-Storey, Multi-Sectional Modular building had impacted me sentimentally, reminding me of the protectiveness of school days! The new cray red color of the college walls was acting clean but carried the vibe of significant responsibility for many lives!
I felt a heavy heart that was tired of facing its daily notes and was keen to know what was lying ahead in pursuit of the daily activities at the college!

As I entered the student auditorium, I noticed the colorful banners hanging and decorated on the side walls and railing. It displayed titles such as "Best New Fresher," "Best Fresher Artist," and "Best Model." etc.

"Will you be singing with our group?" she asked. I replied, "No, I don't know how to sing!" Fear flashed in my eyes as I tried to pull my shoulder away from her grip. The girls in our batch shined in Florent colors; they gathered together in the center like a family of a colorful flower bouquet!

The other groups of boys in our batch created a loud sense of showing fashion as they passed by us! One of the boys enjoyed chewing his lollipop - He made a growling sound, funny enough to make other people laugh! He exclaimed, " Watch out! We have to back the first position at any cost."
As he sprinted away in the opposite direction of the auditorium, his hurried movements caused another person's books to tumble out of his grasp, scattering across the ground helplessly like a jigsaw puzzle unnoticed by others as they all were eagerly preparing to begin the program!
I made my way towards the scattered books. My honesty implored me and compelled me to ask about their desolate state.
I lowered my head and tried to silence the inner monologues which continued to yearn! As I glanced at the person I had collected books for,
he appeared fully immersed in his world!
On the other side, My desire to participate in cultural events led me to the stage where my friends had gathered for a poetry recitation.
I suddenly realized I had mistakenly taken his diary as I could feel the weight of my college purse weighing up. Frustrated with the sweat of the competitive events, I helplessly wondered and looked here and there to return his diary.

When I opened his journal with irritation, I was surprised to find many soulful poems.
As I read the beautiful words, I decided to recite a few lines and thought we could all win today. Every poem in that diary seemed to be smiling at me, and I returned the smile while feeling the beginning of a friendship at this moment. Two of my friends geeked into what I was reading so attentively and asked me what I would recite.
Without hesitation, I told them I chose to recite the 5th poem that he wrote, titled "Silence." I greeted the public with the poem and its stanzas, feeling amazed with every line I repeated.
As I started the recitation, I entered a mysteriously beautiful world where the falls from the peak of the hardship mountain felt like the cold fall on the charcoal ground of my broken enthusiasm. I could see different versions of my outlook carrying the saddest ghosts of the past, and those inner eyes of my heart walls began to seep a kinder note beneath their efforts to move on.
I didn't take credit for his work as it wasn't mine, so I told the audience that the writer's name remains unknown!
And in that moment, I felt a wave of peace wash over me, ending the inner war raging in my heart from the beginning of the day! I was relieved!
Until today, I feel grateful for the opportunity to embrace hidden honesty and do the right thing. It gifted me with a grateful start when the owner of the book of poems approached me afterward; he thanked me for not taking credit for his soulful art.

It was a soulful poem written by an unknown writer that gave me a new light and hope. It inspired me to set my heart free from the turmoil that refused to cease initially.

To this day, I agree and acknowledge this newly found appreciation for the power of truth! It is impressive how honesty and Silence can affect and soothe someone so movingly and others who try to feel it.

This incident has always infused me with great zeal as it increases my inner creative activity.
It helps me yearn to explore the untold depths lying at the core corner of any subject and write many poems.

I'm grateful for this experience and the truth's immense significance. Even today, I feel drawn to the allure of that poem because its words have miraculously conveyed honesty.

I'll always be thankful, and that's for sure!
©shivpoetesspriya

I know I am delicate by nature, covered in a weak, timid color, and often challenged by the turbulence of life. Looking at this exterior and interior working, I couldn't help but think of my arms' gentle, fabric-like texture.

Do my anxious eyes look transparent, like a soul, and be seen through a thin layer of the translucent fabric covering me?

While deeply pondering these thoughts, I sensed the intensifying Wind desperately seeking someone to listen.
When you are intelligently resourceful, you can make any process of strife easy! So, with my flexible emotional backbone, I decided to offer my support to listen to the agonized Wind to help ease her sorrow!

With the growling laughter, the Wind subsided, and the ground absorbed the bubbles of smoke and dust flying around.
Everything was left tranquil again.

As I continued on my path to befriend Wind, I could sense some emotional strain in her voice. However, the winking Wind appeared okay and even made fun of me by asking, "Do you even have ears, you poor chap?"
I replied, Yes, and along with it, I'm tiny and open, fragile and soft to wipe people's tears!

To my perplexity, she was a wise friend in disguise and advised me against giving my heart just to anyone because people don't know how to handle things with care if they don't want you.
While I struggled to manage my abrading and fretting process to provide her reply for defending my position, the Wind said she would want to whorl me along with her to reach my final destination.

An upside breakage I suffered within a few minutes,
With giddiness, I opened my eyes.
I was lying on a muddy elevated floor, which felt like a terrace!

The Wind started rustling off the leaves under my feet and constantly laughing at me.

As I moved forward, I could feel the touch of flowers brushing against my feet and heard someone crying while tears fell like petals from his eyes!
A handsome boy struggled to articulate his emotions and sought solace in tears to find clarity!

The beaming and smiling sun constantly reminded me of my magical healing nature!
I felt empathy for him and wanted to wipe away his tears.

The moment he started sharing his sorrow with his friend, I could hear the stars conversing with each other through their twinkling. The lilaceous flower vibe around him added a melancholy to the atmosphere, and the flowers were sad looking at the flowers poured down! The petals seemed to be shedding tears alongside him!

Soon, he carried me up and asked himself, how did I fly onto his terrace?

He walked close and slowly to the wire railing and clipped me up on the steel wire.
The wet lingering on my borders reminded me * that I don't have a heart. I'm just a pretty pink handkerchief!

I realized I was not alone as the gracious rain washed away the marks of soiled and muddy stress on my frills.

I felt free, like a soft, frail leaf!
©shivpoetesspriya

O, the echoes of dignity!
It doesn't have any stature,

O, the echoes of dignity!
It doesn't have any pictures!

O, the echoes of dignity!
It doesn't have any color!

O, the echoes of dignity!
It holds no position.

Such is the echo of dignity.

O, the echoes of dignity!
They resonate deeply in every layer of our expectations!

There are many problematic shadows.
But one can feel the presence of ways to repent and make things right!

But beware! The softness always wants to protect from the bitterness of guilt while one still wants to repent, whereas my struggling mode strives to seek the balance between these impulses.

I know it is the world of ragging dignities of so many people who sometimes listen to their inner voices or don't!

O, the echoes of dignity!
I want to feel the quest for the quality of freedom and the responsibility of freedom, for one can be amidst adversity and gain victory against all the fearful demons of compromising odds!
©shivpoetesspriya

Oh, hidden sway over my soul, I call out to you!

The roads direct me to the ways aligned with my aspirations!

The streets that return their gaze to me ask if I am broken.
The bubbles of tears below my eyes testify to my answer to their question!

The aimlessness of my heart leads me nowhere.
While I tiptoe on the shining concrete surface,
The time clicks away to the surface and moves on!

The graveyard of stories cry,
They try hard to know about their final chapters,
They dig painfully to bring the replication of my feelings.

The ripples on the gray water increase its movement,
bringing the phases closer to their ending part!
I look my coal eyes in acceptance of my heart's yearning.

My heart sighs with a deep breath.
It acts like a relieving oath of finding the unseen moon of my heart!
©shivpoetesspriya

My boundaries of love don't know how to end their most beloved chapters!
They cry to feel some love.
This love symbolizes the shining little pink heart with its hue that seeks detachment from the people who keep entering and exiting my life!

I try to remember your beautiful color in nuanced shades of sunrise and sunset, which reminds me of my truest boundaries.

The overwhelming and decisive nature of my contented heart is such that it allows me to carry the heavy weight of the breaking junctures of my life!

The fiery boundaries burn with intensity; ask me what are my authentic boundaries. At the same time, I refuse to tremble looking at the sight of a funeral!

I ask myself, "What are my genuine boundaries?" as I stand here, possessing nothing and at the accepting end of everything.
©shivpoetesspriya