The invisible years, they arrive after menopause You'll see. It will happen to you in time. Left behind. Left alone. Now I wonder if I am imaginary? The energy it drains, stepping through the day. The Demon of loneliness demands attention. I doubt my existence. There is no one loving me. There is no "love." The cruel Magician of depression begins disappearing me. And I no longer care. I will crawl off this Earth alone.
She climbed Out of the debris, Bruised. Face smeared in soot. A lone trickle Of blood Down her temple, Dried yet red. Her clothes ragged, Her ******* bare, She staggered Towards shelter As though dancing To music Of sirens that Rent the air. Collapsing in a heap, She looked up To the offer Of a drink Of water that She sipped And Her lips Curved into A solitary smile Of gratitude.
Life have my heart drenched; In what, I do not know. Often I feel lonely; like branches laying on shallow water. When the water is muddy, it’s difficult to see my heart; When it pulse, ripples arise. The moon is my sole partner; Yet extending my hand — like life, illusionary. Water paved where we stand, Like sand, time drips through our grasp. We as people are no different from common grasses.
Winds soft and tranquil, Cherishes quietly, memories and lost innocence. Walls scribbled with unheeded promises, Long Forgotten. Weeping woman, old and clothes tattered. Tragedy hugged and smiling son waned. -My Friend- Waned son smiling and hugged tragedy, Tattered clothes and old, Woman Weeping Forgotten long Promises unheeded with scribbled walls. Innocence and memories quietly cherishes, Tranquil and soft winds.
Wait for me, I will follow you to Wherever you and I can pursue, A life not bounded by domestic walls, A love which can flow amid the stream of false. Alas!! It sounds too good to be true.
Implore me with a beautiful view, Where we can walk in the dawning dew. As the sun rises, let us come to a pause. Wait for me…
In winters I wish you could help me sew A sweater, while warm broth shall I brew. As nigh draws the end, let age be the cause, For the night to grieve for our loss. Alas if it is too much to ask you? Wait for me…
In my solitary hours, haunted by the silence of this silvery river, with trees scattered on its banks I heard soft whispers from every leaf. A soft and peculiar chant, mumbling sorrows and despair to my melancholic soul. My swift glimpse on the silent, still water revealed a stranger, A girl though left lucid yet drowned and lost. Silenced by the heavy ripples of grief, Dim thoughts began to steal the river’s song. Now I’m slipping into the water depths, In the midst of these soundless murmurs, all alone.
language — transparent, like dew, iris, cells, when things were yet to be named, at the beginning in the cradle of nothingness, where darkness came first, before light, before fire and earth, Oceans, the favourite child, and the sky, with her celestial, feathery friends, lazing on that hazy chasm; from the horizon, emerged forms and words and poetry