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Prisha Sinha Apr 2014
Under the shadow of the moon
Danced our love
Safe from the reality,
Hidden from the cruelty,
Loved by our integrity.

Not a fear could rock the night away from its glory
Not an Evil that could crush our faith
Not a dream could die, in the cradle of darkness.

The earth like a platter of our love
The wind like a messenger of our hope
The owl like a pastor giving us our wedding vows.
The stars like a reminder of our future.
Prisha Sinha Apr 2014
A cut i thought would hurt you
The pain would make you understand how hurt i was.
The damage never too big
But the scar never too small

I thought you would cry looking at the person i had become
I thought you would wail about how good i was
I thought you would understand what a mistake you had made
But the cuts never ended
Each time i held the silver reckless metal.
Each time taking a part of my soul
Each time taking a part of my humanity

Time passed and the wounds became scars
But the scars not only left a mark at gullible skin but my tired heart too.
When i held that Mirror like metal for the last time
Trying to prove my Bravery
Little did i know that I had lost my courage forever along with my sanity.
Prisha Sinha Feb 2014
A time had come, where everything stood frozen like ice.
And the warmth of the beating heart grew cold.
A smile cut on everyone’s face
Whilst sadness frozen in eyne
Hypocrisy carved in minds
And realization hidden in hearts.
I walked around in the land of loneliness
Surrounded by imitations of friends.
The love I once knew,
Became the reason for the hollowness inside me.  
The silence I once despised,
Became my only hope for the truth to return.
The souls with age turned shapeless.
I waited...And waited.
I shut my eyes as I knew deep within
I was one of them,
I feared the verity of life.
The frozen silence was cracked by a thought of rectitude.
One thought was all it took as it spread like fire,
Melting all false virtues.
The time had changed, as now it had the momentum of fire.
A thought was all it took.
To release the heart from its numbness.
A thought was all it took to end all sanctimony.

— The End —