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Greg Armen Mar 23
My thoughts, my words, my actions,
Never leave each other, please!
When you all drifted apart,
Like a fallen leaf, I wandered around,
Carried by the restless winds of life
And washed up on the shore of anxiety.
I fought with the two other faces in me,
Defeated all of them.
I found the ground beneath my feet,
I found my place, my inner peace,
When you all merged into one piece.
Syafie R Mar 17
On my born day, lost,
A crow's cry fills the cold air—
"God, why must I try?"
Ankush Mar 17
An emotion or an illusion?
When you think, you are.
When you want, you can.
When you don’t—can you?

A state or a fate?
Do you decide it, or not?
Is it in your mind,
or beyond thought?

Is it materialism or a bond,
a lasting memory of years along—
a friendship, a relation, an achievement,
or nature’s quiet appreciation?

Is it real, or is it fake?
Something defined, or something I make?
A gaze into eyes,
or a stare at the stars?

If it is peace,
does it shine in the night sky?

Is it beautiful, or merely calming?
Cool or exciting—does it differ for all?
A claim to most,
or the worst of all?
Found in small things,
or in things that are not?

A sip of coffee in the cold,
or a cool breeze in summer’s warmth?
Is it in birth, or in death?

Up until now, more or less,
if I am in confusion,
so are you.
Asking yourself—
What is happiness?
I wrote this a year ago, the question still lies my mind- the emotion specifically happiness, I don't know it's a mere satisfaction or something pleasing , it emerges a variety. Often bind with something pleasing or which makes you feel good, nevertheless a emotion is something which defies logic , that's why its different from a mere thought process , it's unpredictable sometimes following a pattern sometimes it does not.

But my improvised question is that what is the most basic and substantial thing which is found in every source of this happiness.
Ankush Mar 16
They ask,
How can I live?

And say,
They could not.

I laugh
and they laugh along.

Some days after,
They ask again,
How can I survive?

And say,
They wouldn't be able to.

I laugh again,
So they laugh along.

Now I ask myself,
How cursed am I?
& I let myself
Cry.

And when they ask again,
I just smile.
When I was 6 , my family found out that I have a disease called celiac disease or for short gluten/ wheat allergy , so basically I can't eat anything made from wheat , my lifestyle and diet is very different from those in my country, I am cut off from eating every thing outside.
So for ten years I have been constantly asked by my friends , cousins and sometimes very close friends , they joke , they ask , they pity , they sympathise , and they ask how can I live.
I don't know if it should have been me more tough to laugh and laugh again on the same question over and over again.
Ankush Mar 9
The thunder , fell upon clouds
The clouds ,started growling  aloud
The shadows falls,
As the sun was hidden
The trees were  stiffen.

The waves grew still, their rhythm destroyed,
An endless echo, a vast, dark void.
The way peace mused,
It Made him annoyed.

He was a pirate ,
in the clouds
He sailed,
Born with a sword,
and chaos
Embraced.

He was a fighter for peace,
He fought,
But never saw it front....
He sailed distant clouds
But never was stunned ,
He was annoyed with peace .
He longed to soar through waves
And clouds to pierce
And  the pirate who gave him fight
So fierce.

The sword which he lived by,
The blood that it missed by
If it is not peace , he thought
Then what is it for which
He fought.

He was confused to sail
Backed no wind ,
To row they fail.
He saw the sun settling
With sorrow ,
As he hoped for another
Day from God to borrow.

At distant in his heart
A never ending beat....
Dry throat ,
numb eyes,
Sweat a drop ,No summer & heat
Smiling with lips
As he uttered
" Is it a pirate's defeat"!?
Ankush Mar 9
Standing up front
Watching the  eyes
Looking in depths
Deep inside,
Finding meaning
As to nothing ,
Exploring with hope
Core to those eyes ,
Found the reflection-
The reflection of mine.

The strange curious eyes
Of mine watching the eye
To those of mine and
so to ME
Exploring the self  into the
Core ,
Like a boat amidst
the sea .
I asked the mirror what do u reveal
"In response it just reflected me" .
A simple revelation, attachment leads to wrong perception of something which is not true , aloof it's own meaning and nature.  You can't find your self in your mere reflection, it's just your physical apperance.
Ankush Mar 9
The question that is ,going through me
When I was a kid or  when I am grown up
the thing which resides within ,the one who grants it
I don't know whether it's me or someone ,
Full of truth or lie whichever is it  Just tell me
What am I?

It's not real ,it's not fake ,
Curious for world nearby lake
Thinking in nights ,dreaming in day
Whether it's me , my soul or someone else
I don't know what i take it as a role or just a lie
Whichever is it Just tell me
What am I ?

Existence , persistence, patience not so be true to be truth,
The things I know ,why nobody knows?
Feelings, strength, emotions ,dreaming about it but what takes
Us to exist and extinct if we don't know the relation,
The relation of being in reality,or rather in fake all around it ,
Everything till now was just a fallacy , us to smile or just cry
Whichever it is just tell me
What am I ?
Space is – vast
Space is – the un-ending,
the entire universe,
the great expanse,
the entirety of creation… which is bigger than a person can even wrap their head around. Not only that, but…
Space is – expanding. It’s getting bigger? We’re getting further away from the aliens we haven’t even met yet. BECAUSE THEY ARE TOO FAR AWAY. Or maybe we have met, but WE don’t know. Not the entire royal WE, just the WE that in the illuminati.
SO –
Space is – eternally far away, yet eternity is getting farther awayer.
Space is – the final frontier

Space is – genuinely terrifying. We’re stuck on this giant rock that is ABSOLUTELY rotating INCREDIBLY FAST, and – DID YOU KNOW – we don’t just go around the sun in a nice circle… the sun is orbiting a giant black hole… and WE just kind of follow that in a spiral.
Space is – distressing, at the very least.
Space is – vast
Space is – beautiful… isn’t it? I mean when you get past the fear, you can see those dust clouds. Nebulas they’re called. Where stars are created. A star that has such gravity that it slams all the little rocks nearby into each other until they become planets.
Space is – the birthplace of life
Space is – the site of creation
Space is - where you look at the stars and God smiles back at you. Boasting, but not arrogance, just pride. A father proud of his creations. Where pieces fit together in a perfectly precise vastness.
Space is – breathtaking
By Marcus Wade
Ankush Mar 11
A lovely she is..
I watch her all day.

From dawn to next day,
I wait in dismay.

Each sunset I stare,
My white window's view.

I can not find her.

Each night i spent,
And of each day's lament,
More i want to know,
The meaning of the white,
Window engraved.

This white wall ,
And the white window.

It's too shiny,
The bright coating.
Its viscous colour,
Dripping ,
drop by drop,

I can't seem to break by,
Halting and trying,
rock by rock.

I do have a chair to rest,
But I wait for her,
standing,
By window's view ,
& I wait.

I do have the other wall,
I do have another window,
But I can't seem to make myself
Break through the white wall,

While by the moonlight,
I stare her shadows engraved.

Why this white wall,
Seems a storm to the
Beautiful rainbow,
And if i all i could is wait
Then Why is this white window?

A lovely she is..
I watched her all day.
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