Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Akriti Dec 2020
With the vacuum in my stomach,
I can feel the rush of pain.
With the tears oozing out,
I succumb to despair.
With all the world against me,
I am still trying to stand straight.
With the future that only holds uncertainty,
I wish to live just few more days.
With too much chaos at once,
I was born at the wrong place.
Akriti Sep 2022
There is something about September,
that always makes my sober feelings a bit heavy hearted.
Not purely melancholic per se.
The night swiftly chasing the day,
the leaves falling off on a dull ground.
The whimsical rain harboring all the overwhelmness,
the world becoming this one big theme of Dark academia.
A cozy corner with a wooden table,
brewed coffee placed over an half read novel.
That wait for winters to come,
and how it replenishes the cherished memories.
It amuses me in more than just one way,
how a month can be an entire emotion in itself
Akriti Sep 2020
When the doors of heaven were open wide,
the divine rays of god restored the dawn.
The holy waters were then sprinkled,
and the soul of earth was baptized.
The chromatic aisle was then instilled,
washing off the somber hue.
The odor of sanctity was then diffused,
the state of misery was blown away.
The sicks and the spirits were then anointed,
and all the sufferings were healed,
and sins of humans were redeemed.
Akriti Dec 2021
Winter has always been that one season,
that makes the melancholy of heart,
more real than apparent.
When the very life of the earth,
it comes to almost an end,
you know it,
somewhere deep down inside,
you cherish it.
You embrace the wait,
to see it all come to life again altogether.
The unwanted cold winds of the deserted nights,
is all you've been waiting for the entire year.
Still haven't been caught,
enacting that scene,
playing that character,
you created,
to bring winter out of background,
putting it to the center stage.
Akriti Jul 2021
Certain things are bound to happen in life,
Whether you like them or not.
Eventually, you don't accept them,
But just get used to them.
Akriti Aug 2020
Ink soaked in despise and despair,
thoughts bewildered and perplexed.

Parched soul,
a distinctive flair.

Faint and feeble brightness,
an outstanding dazzled affair.

Stitched up hopes,
with an astounding glare.
This piece of poem reflects my current state of mind; disorderliness, inexpressibility.
Akriti Feb 2022
My perfect midnight summer ocean,
is how I'd describe you.
Sometimes stormy,
Sometimes windy,
Calm most of the times,
and never ending layers of love for me.
I can sink in deep, deep in these layers,
and yet won't touch the ground.
oh, look here! What I found?
I found my life in you,
With endless pearls to treasure around.
Akriti Dec 2022
Slow down, take a minute, a moment, or a day.
Ask yourself, are you happy enough? are you enjoying it enough?
There will come a voice from within, you will have your answers.
It isn't about who's doing it first or better or both.
It is about, are you following up closely with your journey?
How is it gonna matter anyway if it went too fast?
You were busy being too perfect and lost the touch with purpose.
Sit, breathe and live, let humans be humans.
Machines are many to work mindlessly.
Embrace what comes and what does not.
You will live, anyways, but are you living a life worth living?
So, slow down, take a minute, a moment, or a day.
And ask yourself again.
Akriti Aug 2020
What cannot be yours,
no further shall be desired of.

Sunk into shallow waters,
gone up in smoke,
narrowly ablaze.

Torn to pieces,
unabashedly re-framed.
No matter what you desire of,
at the end must be yours and reclaimed.
Akriti Jul 2020
The troughs of her wavy hair,
perfectly fitted the grip of his fist.

The more he pulled,
the shorter they grew.

Loved to paint the walls,
with the anything she cooked.

Everyone's got a way to express love,
well not like others his way was a little rough.

He said "I'll love you until I die",
ironically his love was the reason of her demise.
Akriti Dec 2021
I have always admired these nights,
the only time when the lights become more meaningful.
More appreciable they become,
carrying along the beauty of the darkness.
The realm where the two meet,
will be the only surreal truth I'll ever witness.
Akriti Jul 2021
Stillness in heart,
haywire thoughts.
Ever seen a burning rose?
blood dripping off from the cut of it's thorn.
A half read novel,
a story half told.
An empty sea,
woman in white marching through it.
A desert full of roses,
with the sky on the ground.
Tell me where you see the stars?
when I carry the universe within me.
Akriti Mar 2021
Sat in my old creaky chair,
struggling to reach the window to the center right,
a solid transparent glass unlatched,
which choked the life out of me.
A red vibrant sky,
smudged with desire and disgust.
A fairly fast flowing surface wind,
gushing into my face,
whispering in my ears,
the songs and spells of emancipation,
teaching my untamed hair,
the moves of joy.
Akriti Jun 2021
Hustling winds,
through the silent streets.
A dying flower,
with a hope to live.
Thunderclouds,
in search of solace.
A blank paper,
awaits to be written on.
Somewhere amidst this chaos,
we met.
We met,
for the wind,
to break the silence,
for the flower,
preserved forever,
between the pages of our story,
for clouds,
to let it rain,
for paper,
decorated in smell of love.
We met,
like the limitless sky meets the land,
with memories sealed in clouds,
sailing across the silent blue ocean.
We met,
like the drifting river meets the sea,
mixing into each other,
making it one water altogether.
We met,
like the first drop of blissful rain meets the thirsty earth,
losing his existence,
to nurture her.
We met.
Akriti Jul 2020
I have seen you tracing all the curves,
scratching down from A to Z.

Some versions of yours were blue,
stolen some from the sky's hue.

Those letters red in rage,
all the emotions that were being caged.

Black was the darkest of all,
revealing secrets that were never known.

The ones in aberrant green,
expressed the fervor on the page like a screen.

But then as I started to evince,
you ran dry without no hints.
Akriti Sep 2020
Some days I want to paint,
some times I want to be painted.

Some days I want to write,
some times I want to be written.

Some days I want to read,
some times I want to be read.

Some days I want to be a gardener,
some times I want to be the flower of that garden.

Some days I want to live,
some times I want to breathe in peace.
Akriti Mar 2022
Ran down through all the streets,
hoping this shady alley to be my escape.
The solace though mighty seemed ephemeral.
Now that I have exhausted all the routes and roads,
where do I now go from here?
Possibly the last dead end I've hit,
it seems I am unworkably unfit,
unfit for here and every place I have ever been to.
So, where do I now go from here?

— The End —