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Nalinee 1d
Dilemmas and confusions
Unsettled and unsolved
Instead of hault
Become the driving force
Give shape to the unexplored
Let excitement to continue
Let life to happen
in not just one way!
Romaisa Abbas May 25
Oft I shun my desires
Oft I run too much

I fail to understand from what though
The venomous clamor from the window,
Or the clangor of my own?

What is more frightening to deal with?
What matters more?

Perhaps, choice has come early to me
Perhaps, rejoice has bid farewell early to me

What am I to do with the abundance of nothingness that stretches across?


***
πΉπ‘œπ‘Ÿ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘™π‘œπ‘£π‘’ π‘œπ‘“ πΊπ‘œπ‘‘, 𝐼 π‘Žπ‘š π‘›π‘œπ‘‘ π‘žπ‘’π‘’π‘ π‘‘π‘–π‘œπ‘›π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘€β„Žπ‘¦ π‘šπ‘’.
𝐼 π‘Žπ‘š π‘œπ‘›π‘™π‘¦ π‘žπ‘’π‘’π‘ π‘‘π‘–π‘œπ‘›π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘€β„Žπ‘¦ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘  π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘π‘œπ‘šπ‘’ π‘“π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘š π‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘’.


When you've prepared yourself for the worst; and it still comes. But from the wrong direction.
Romaisa Abbas May 21
How will you see?
How will you measure me?
Because all I do is state the truth
Truths of life and death; truths
Of fairylands and ruthless errands


So, how will you see
If I truly am being me
The scale I play within
Is just too broad for any accurate measurements


I worry then
Will you ever be able to see
A fact too obvious; a fact so sly:
Two distinct truths, when put together
Are still a lie.
A confession; The gaping holes you see, aren't really imaginary.
Sovit Pokhrel May 19
I understand, everything is give & take.
But, how much must one give?
Give, in order to recieve.
I understand, everything is give & take.
But, whats there to measure?
For ones trash, could be the others treasure.

I understand, its give and take.
But how much, must i give ?
Give, in order to recieve.
I could give you, my everything.
But for you, it could mean nothing.

I understand, its give and take.
But what is it, that you take?
When you dont know, what you want.
You could give me, your everything.
But for me, it could mean nothing.

I understand, everything is give & take.
Human relationships are getting more complicated than ever, too much greed in this corrupted socitey forcing unrealistic expectations upon you.
But i shall give, give & give, everything i have without any intentions of taking. Even if it means, i have to break my self into a million pieces.
I shall give until my last breath  for there is no better feeling, than giving away.
Paras Bajaj Jun 2019
when I thought it was the beginning,
you ran away thinking it was the end.
sometimes I feel like I know you so well,
sometimes you are just so hard to understand.
P.B
.
Rain fell in commotionsβ€”
The birds would have none of it,
The moon bellowed in ghostly white,
Faced in the sprite, ringing indifference
Of low fading stars, trees in posted dark
Scratched the grasslands of the fallen
Firmaments and the small creatures
That are holed up in days, scurried
With the creep of night and moan
Of oceans slide, mangled clouds
Clutched the murky burn of sky
And smallish eyes everywhen
Shuddered in the frosts
Of a shuttering rose.
.
From Wikipedia:
Samhain Gaelic festival marking the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter or the "darker half" of the year. Traditionally, it is celebrated from 31 October to 1 November, as the Celtic day began and ended at sunset. This is about halfway between the autumn equinox and the winter solstice. It is one of the four Gaelic seasonal festivals, along with Imbolc, Bealtaine and Lughnasadh. Historically, it was widely observed throughout Ireland, Scotland and the Isle of Man. Similar festivals are held at the same time of year in other Celtic lands.
.
Lacey Apr 2017
Why must God make me succumb to his wishes? Making me believe that the forgery of this pen means no thing. Maybe he just wants me to see the irony. No inspiration can be brought from his message. Yet, the desolation cannot describe the isolation in my needs. You won't succeed tonight, but you'll overcome his wishes to succumb. Thus, freeing your being, if seeing is believing.
written : 2-21-17
Tamara Fraser Jan 2017
In all the time we’ve wandered,

spent landing from impossible heights;

dancing blind, in the dark, being fumbled and prodded

for feelings and requests,

the games we laugh at, wasted on self-confidence and

possession

I have much more than yours,

intoxicated on the thriving pulse of fearless flight,

we crash into opened arms,

not noticing the extent of the fall.


A wandering soul, I shall be.

Picking up sand on empty beaches,

spending time thinking of the footsteps,

surely imprinted on my trail I left behind.

You came and went.

And so you came and went.

Tumbling across my path,

like that cooling hot flush brought with salty ocean and rain.


Wandering past empty mountains,

looking over my shoulder to notice the

mortal statues I made of you,

and you,

and you,

my tended garden of people and places and things;

of darkness and light;

of scraped shells and glorious feathered wings;

of sickly love songs and hearts blazed;

of lonely nights waiting up for you,

and all the times you let me down.


Wandering alone and free,

the purple skies above offering sacred slumber.

I remain awake, watching stone eyes move

on me,

fixating on the bumps in the road,

tremors and falls in gentle dips unexpected

under my feet;

like you were.

Another came past, the smell of cut roses and

blushes minus a make-up brush;

shaking in the middle of your field of games,

playing rough and *****,

feeding ego and primal instincts,

bent backwards and underneath,

an empty canvas for marred drawing;

it was ****** while it lasted,

but I turned to stone long before

you came back on your knees.


And all the time I’ve wandered this lonely escape,

I come to wonder at all my marvels,

the things that made you fall faintly for me,

and shrines of you,

and you, and you.

Whether we were meant to collect an exhibition

of second best loves;

successive wilting romances burnt on scorching days.

Whether we were meant to learn by breaking hearts;

making cold remnants left to mildew in the past.


Whether we make do with second best,

as close to first yet farther still;

because we don’t know what best is.

We know when it tumbles down,

like a broken house,

but to see it gone is much too late.

Safer to say yes to second best,

than risk the cold wandering left for us alone.


In all the times we’ve spent wandering.

And I’m still wandering.

Empty beaches and purple skies,

long past.
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