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Ishant17 Dec 2017
RUN
I am here.
The soul is dead.
I just breathe
And the skin sags
Kisses and hugs
All I had
But a few words
To say
"you aren’t left
And our run through
The green fields
Cannot possibly
Be less than
The best…”
It's all I wished
I could have..For
Even the kisses and hugs
We considered to be the best
Are short of matching
That run which
Would have been the best
i miss you...yess still
Ishant17 Dec 2017
i be an ocean
you be the waves
just roll over me
each time
washing me over with the
memories...where
you exist as vast as an ocean
and i remaining just as long
as a wave rolls over the ocean
i still remember you ...still love you HOPE u too ...
though i never had the courage to say it to u
Ishant17 Dec 2017
You and I
against a rule,
set for us by time.

A marker drawn
to show our end
Etched into its line

The briefest moment
shared with you
the longest
on my mind

--Long Low
signed by Long Low...
Ishant17 Dec 2017
Why do poets write?

Is it their words escaping prison
Of pen to gain freedom?

Maybe its this land
of ink and paper
the only place my pain
sorrows and joys  can reside.

Is it life ?
That forces and compels
To find solace.
In  bleeding of ink on paper?

Or is it a beckoning
to fellow brothers,
of the storms that rise,  
while they battle
their own own storms of life.

I sit with ink and paper
To write?  To tell?
To find ? to seek ?
I just ask why do poets write ?

Maybe I write for the sake of writing
To express all that I am in writing.

My poems and their poet
Their commitment to each other
The way they understand
and accept each other
With no judgement or expectations
On each other’s  part
I believe are the reasons
Why does this poet writes.
Ishant17 Dec 2017
I just wonder
Where the old dreams
Go to die?
Do they ether away
Into the cosmos?
Or they just
Lie down somewhere
Bubbling up as clouds
In the sky.
Or do they
Filter out as
Butterflies of my thoughts .
Are they chained too
To vicious cycle of
Death and rebirth ?
Transcending from one
Subconscious to another.
Amidst the storm of thoughts
Another conjures up
from the vast emptiness
with yet another trail
of beliefs and dis beliefs
Ishant17 Dec 2017
I sit still and withdrawn
waiting for the dawn.
Eyeing the droplets
as they pour from the taps
under the frons.
Wishing for acceptance
to arrive.
As noon approached
those flashes from past
intensified the yearning
and set the fireball of emotions
alive.
Finally with the twilight
birds returned
for a new beginning  
the understanding dawned.
Love is within.
Love is me.
Not the one who just walked past and left me.

— The End —