Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Sasha Ranganath Jan 2015
I shouted out a prayer for you,
A prayer for your eyes to stay damp
But for your tears never to trickle.

I sent out a cry for you,
A cry for your heart to stay fixed
And never to break.

I tried wishing upon a star for you,
A star to illuminate your path
And guide you to your destiny.

I wrote down a song for you,
A song for your imperfect perfections
But for my voice never to sing it.

The prayer,
The cry,
The wish,
The song...
Hit the sky
And fell back down.

Now you'll have to stay here and say grace,
Yet never again in my embrace.
Sasha Ranganath Jan 2015
what i like about the living
is that they respond to
hello and goodbye.

what i don't always understand about them
is how and why.
Sasha Ranganath Jan 2015
no god to save us,
no angel to descend from above.
no hymn or prayer,
no superior to call Greater.
humanity is the only faith I believe in,
no heaven or hell to decide sin.
Sasha Ranganath Jan 2015
"Just pull the trigger!" I screamed,
For he means to me more than it seems.
Sasha Ranganath Jan 2015
Life is like a caterpillar's metamorphosis into a butterfly.

As the caterpillar weaves it's cocoon, it just knows it's a part of its life to do so. No questions asked.

As we build our walls up with time, we just know it's a part of our lives to do so. No questions asked.

The caterpillar stays in for many, many days, not knowing what awaits it when it finally breaks free.

We stay behind the walls for a long, long time, not knowing what awaits us when we finally tear them down.

The caterpillar patiently waits for it's time to come. And when it does, it realises what freedom it has attained after all the time it spent in the darkness.

We wait for a long time, but sometimes we feel like we can't wait any longer and just want to end the darkness. We feel claustrophobic in there.

When claustrophobia hits, don't be afraid to let out a tiny little cry, just loud enough for someone passing by to hear. Use all your strength that's been piling up inside you. Someone that truly cares about the little details, is going to have a second look and find the place that the sound is coming from. They won't tear down your walls, instead they'll find a little escape hole and crawl in to help you tear them down yourself.

But sometimes it so happens, that the caterpillar just doesn't emerge and the cocoon is still as ever. No matter for how long you wait, it just doesn't break through.

If you see that happening, just make it a point to let every other caterpillar you know, that it's okay to let out a little cry when suffocation approaches. Tell them they don't have to be afraid.

Tell them you'll always find a way to help them tear down their walls<3
Sasha Ranganath Dec 2014
What happened to the days
I found poetry in a thread on a dress?
What happened to the days
I found poetry in a strand on a head?

The days I had the most extravagant words
To use as my armour and weapons?
The days I had a beautiful, flowing rhyme
To use as the glamour and .......?

Have I lost my train of thought?
Or have I stopped looking for it?
Have I finally succumbed to the cost
Which states to find poetry in every twist?

Every twist of every braid,
Every list of every maid.
Every hill growing up,
Every second of broken trust.

I must go on a conquest to retrieve my possession
Of thirst for finding poetry in even the slightest dust on a table top.
To live my life again, I have made this decision;
And for you to adhere to it is my humble requisition.
Next page