Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jul 2015 Midnight Clamour
M S
There was never a soiree without her-
Until the day everything changed.
Strangely that night, all too blatantly
Glasses clinked’, giggles echoed
Inane but spirited chatter
Churned together with the air
The very air that had usurped her being
And not left a trace behind
Pallid evenings gave way to pallid daylight
But like an inkblot in the night sky
Her bright eyes and ever so fervent smile
Were beclouded irreversibly
Her pictures vanished and so did her memoirs
So did keepsakes of her bleak existence
A familiar kind of existence
She breathed in every word ever said to her
Cried with the morose, bumbled with the inebriated loner
Cordially marveled at the disillusioned old man’s jokes
Not too high-spirited and never overbearing
An ever-smiling sponge- a beast of the worst kind of burden
Devoid of desires, complains, broken dreams-apparently
No one seemed to remember her at all
Or notice she was gone.
A raven sweeps over- a little boy stares, everything’s still the same
No wretched tears about the girl who’d never bother a soul
Never mind that she’s gone.
 Jul 2015 Midnight Clamour
M S
Were you awake when the night turned purple?
*And battleships invaded the silent civilization
Of mystical beings
Army men-like grass blades stung the sky at the horizon
The gravel road shone like a milk white drape
Out there, a faceless man escorted creatures of the moon
Down where you and I stand
There was a shiver down my spine and I called soundlessly
All sounds dampened by this heavy droning that swooned
everyone , but me.
A cloaked man stood by my window, hitched breathing,
As my throbbing head paced in double time, I thought that was you.
Next moment, I was out cold.
 Jul 2015 Midnight Clamour
Aditi
The girl in the mirror

Who is she?
The girl in the mirror,
I don't recognise her anymore,
Sometimes she looks at the distance,
Her ghostly looks
Send through me a shiver,
Her lips move
But I can't hear a word she utters

And then she zeroes in on me again
Her eyes go vacant,
Her  face goes grave
And I realise
She is no longer there,
Just a ghost
A shadow
Of who she once was
Still haunting
The body she used to dwell in

A heart
Forced to beat.
Who stole the light in those eyes?
Her face looks familiar,
Yet so estranged.

I take a step towards her,
She does too.
I move my hand,
And she follows
The realisation came,
The girl In the mirror,
Is no one else
But myself.
Dark circles,
Creating a contrast against her pale skin
It is so hard to look
At the jagged cuts all across her thighs.
Who would ever be gentle
Across her jagged cuts?
Who would pull her up,
From the midnight thoughts she has been sinking in
Farther and farther?
Who else,
If not she, herself?

She is the anchor
Weighing her wings down,
But she also has the power of wind
That won't be bound.
She is sunshine and darkness both,
In her own world
And she must and she will learn
How to balance the colors
To create a perfect picture


So tonight is the time
To fall in love with the girl in the mirror
Oh yes,
The girl in the mirror
Found herself,
The girl in thr mirror
Stopped looking for help.

she realised
Perfection is perceptional
And not itself perfect.

Beware of her,
For you have not seen her best yet.
One day she will show the world the
Art she carries within herself.
They* say that silence is golden...whatever that means.
They say that "no news is good news."
They say that to really understand someone, you need to "walk in his shoes."

Give me a break; cut me some slack; take a chill pill.
Who are they? And what gives them the right?

The silence I'm in is black.
It is not golden.
It does not shine with light.
It is empty, earth shattering heartbreak.
That is my silence.

No news is not good news: this doesn't even make sense as a math or logic problem.
No news is never good news when you're dangling off of the edge of your emotional downfall-- holding on by your fingertips.
No news is not good news when you're struggling to keep your head above water, but your body is becoming heavy with doubt.

And my shoes? They don't even fit me properly half of the time.

So tell me, who are they?
Because I want to see their golden silence, understand how their lack of news is a positive... and I bet their shoes don't fit me either.
I've been hiding
Hiding in the shadow of fear
I've been waiting
Waiting for destiny
And all for too long

Well no longer
I shall not hide
I shall not wait
I shall rise
And conquer all
For I fear non
And wait no longer
Next page