The antonym of sadness, darkness, grief, pain, restlessness is~"love"

I
let
you go,
Dear ego!
Once more!
To make every
thing better
with them.
O n c e
more!

Reminder at the end of the day..

Love~ The tug-of-war!
between the heart and the mind.

The mind~
Falls from behind!
Steps aside!
Lets the heart take initiative,
and preside!

The mind's warnings, it ignores,
New ways to win, it explores!

Good job! But~
Later itself got crushed!
The plans smashed!
Dreams shattered!
Schemes scattered...

The mind~
Sitting behind,
Now takes over,
To know it's over
Tries to get over
To walk over....

To  learn  the lesson
To find new passion
To follow the caution

The heart~
Sad, mad,
So much it had,
Yet to understand the good or bad,
Regressing!
Depressing!
Repressing!
Obsessing!
Over and over!

A rollback!
A comeback!
A look back!
A turn back!
Bounces back....
Preparing another tug-of-war....

The love is blind
War between heart and mind
Continues....

Here comes another night
to pause and end the day,
Dedicate the deeds to almighty, surrender right away!

Lucky you are to be alive,
to everybody, be grateful!
Everything is a blessing,
to nature, be thankful!

Dissolve in the darkness of
recuperating, regenerating night,
followed by reviving energizing
restart of another day bright..

Through another dreamy night,
to be with you to glide,
Call upon the angels
and your spiritual guide!!!

Night talks

A poet was in the closet,
the doors tightly closed.
With the bunch of syllables,
dormant in own world.

Once a fairy gives a knock,
opening the block,
the poet lets her in, and
keeps the syllables in lock.

The fairy sleds
in his heart's depth,
makes the syllables slept,
and the poet swept.

The fairy wants to go high,
takes the wings to fly.
But the poet,
could not rely.


The closet smashed,
she breaks open the door.
The dreams crushed,
the poet lets her go.

The poet, wounded, sad,
leaves the broken closet,
with a bunch of syllables
steps in the poetic world.

The river of emotions flows,
the oars of syllables, he rows.
Frightened by the sharks,
on an island, he embarks.

The land of "Poetry"
with a single giant tree,
Sheltering many castaways,
tired of gloomy days.

Greeting each other
With a warm "Hello!"
Showing each other
a nice way to go!

Many wandering poetic souls,
from sufferings, recovered,
In this way the island
"Hello Poetry" was discovered!!

Fiction..thnx hp

Weekends were weak ends,
and
became energizers
since you came in life..

Old memories

When some stories hidden,
untold being written!

When the night is dark lonely,
the thoughts go soulfully!

When the eyes circling inky,
the pens go inking!

When the hearts go sinking,
the words flow brimming!

When the insides have thunders,
the pens create wonders!

The deep seated ire
makes the pens fire!

The lone brave fighters,
are the late night writers!

My pen...my gun
To fight all emotions
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