#reaping
In the garden of my heart, I sowed a seed,
A seed of trust, with hope to feed,
Watered by emotions, pure and deep,
Nurtured with care, in nights so steep.
Through the storms and gentle rain,
I tended to it, with love's refrain,
For in its growth, I sought to find,
The sweetest fruit, of the heart's design.
With patience as my guiding light,
I watched it grow, both day and night,
Roots entwined with faith's embrace,
Branches reaching, in love's grace.
And as seasons passed, the seed did thrive,
Blossoming forth, with love alive,
In its shade, I found my rest,
In its fruit, true love is expressed.
For every tear shed in doubt's embrace,
Was washed away by trust's gentle grace,
And in the harvest, I found my bliss,
For true love's fruit is sweeter than this.
So let me sow seeds of trust anew,
In the garden of hearts, where love rings true,
For in the soil of faith, happiness grows,
And in the fruit of love, love forever glows.
By
Sanji-Paul Arvind
Mar 24, 2025
Mar 24, 2025 at 5:44 AM UTC
I lost some words
till someone said
go back to where you last saw them
never saw, just heard
in someone’s head
stuck in the throat like stored phlegm
spitting it out
no doubt they shout
louder than I ever did
But they didn’t get rid
of the guck that was hid
swallowing it
deep down
Into the depth of the heart
among buried blart
and that’s where my words
were found
Jul 30, 2021
Jul 30, 2021 at 8:53 PM UTC
Reaping rotten fruits from bitter roots;
Wearing flesh boots in penguin suits.
May 12, 2018
May 12, 2018 at 8:13 AM UTC
I can't imagine what it'd feel like to be ageless,
And to watch those around me grow old and die;
Having to suffer as the list of people to miss,
Grows longer as their spirits fly.
I can't understand why immortality sounds sweet to some,
As if it would be a gift of the most ultimate kind.
Just give me a song to hum,
As in the hospital I lay waiting to die.
This world possesses too much heartbreak for me to ponder,
Whether immortality sounds incredible.
I know deep inside of me that I needn't wonder,
Whether death will reap my soul.
My memory will exist for decades,
In the hearts of those I touched,
And even when away it fades,
Ar least I had loved ones I clutched.
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 2:04 PM UTC
Frogs— suddenly dive,
Blocks of flesh crane to the sky,
Heron holds head high.
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 7:47 PM UTC