Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Veritia Venandi Feb 2021
The lava that flowed down her eyes from the bottom of her soul,
Hardened to formed various shades of rough igneous rocks...

With a heart of stone she consoled herself:
"Only does he floats momentarily in this passing time like debris in the great ocean of my consciousness...
For in another time, sooner or later he would touch rock bottom...
Erasing all the paths he made in the great currents of my mind."
People leave...Drowning us in a sea of memories. Hope you all are doing well! Love and blessings❤✨
Veritia Venandi Jan 2021
Sunrays peep in through imaginary windows...
The heart of the canopied forest
beats a deep throb of chlorophyllic pulse,
Invisible organisms wait in hiding,to smell my odour
The wet ground tries to take me in...dragging me deep into it.
This place always makes me blurry eyed,
Even today as tears run down my cheeks,
The sunlight refracts against them weaving for me a rainbow of psychedelic hues!
Amber memories hanging by the barks makes me weary of my thoughts...
But just then when I take a step to touch them, I hear footsteps coming behind me...
A quick run and a hide...I see him moving upto the exact spot where I had left behind my candid footmarks,
I feel a tingle when he touches them calling out to me with a cracking voice...
And yet I choose to remain in hiding, feigning oblivion much like the way the oceanic storms do in order to take down the will of the mighty ships.
If only I had sunk deep into the centre of the earth,
I would never had to be the mistress of this strangest potion of a feeling, one that just blends longing and feigning perfectly into one!
Some kind of pains are like the fires of hell
You never want to be burnt alive...
I strain my ears trying to hear him out, the farest sounds return to me amplifying a hundredfold, yet all that lingered in the air was a human silence.

Maybe he had understood my dilemma,
My resolve of not wanting to see his tender face again
The fear that once again my petrified heart would be cast away from the spell... That it would set me free...
All I wanted now was a locked space for myself and my heart.

Once out of my hiding place, I ran, stumbling, up to the place where his footsteps had frozen in a previous time.
Touching the place, I could not contain myself
It was my turn to call out to him, only but in a voiceless language!
A fictional write. Some feelings are so complex that it tries to tear apart our simple souls.
Peace💜✨
Veritia Venandi Jan 2021
Marooned within a span of finitude
We claim we are lost forever!
Our hearts beat violently inside our rib cages,
Trying to tell us truths that we brush off as myths.
We paint our houses and bodies with brilliant colours and darkest inks,
Hoping that it would make up for the ugliness we harbour!
We spin fantasies locked up in self-made prison cells,
Sidelining the hideous realities as not part of 'our story'...
We carry our vulnerabilities as a taboo,
(I, sadly, would not blame each one separately for it)
We have woven this illusion together with our cloudy minds.
If a bird could judge high from the sky
It would have made out the fragmentary lives we live in...
Inside a single fortress surrounded by high walls, yet violence if we traverse the margin between two rooms!
If and only if, we would have understood that it doesn't require too much a sacrifice to unite
That we can leave our homes simply plastered and our minds simply open.
Urged by a force to change, if only we had exposed ourselves to paint graffiti on that common wall that surrounds us,
Splashing ingenious shades of love and brotherhood,
Of a fluttering feeling of oneness and entanglement.
We would have laughed together, danced with glee and holding our hands together we would have escaped unto a better reality...
If only it was true, I wonder
How spectacular a place the world would have been !
Will we leave our egos behind to paint the common wall around us?
Thank you for reading this! ❤✨
Veritia Venandi Jan 2021
My love for you attains freedom at the stroke of midnight...
Loneliness no longer bothers this naive heart of mine, swimming in hot springs of your love.
The mystery wind brings home to me the answers to the many letters that I never sent for you
And the eerie darkness, oh it gives me a chance to dance in hiding, with your shadow, that I had to create for the sake of my soul...
The million stars patterned in unknown constellations fuel in me my patience to wait for you...
That one day when we meet, live and die, we will make for the brightest objects in the sky
(O beloved, do you feel the beatings of my heart in that heart of yours?
Do you know that the warmth that you try to feed yourselves by the fireplace, is the ignition of the same fire,that my soul sparks in me?
Do you feel my feet when I walk over the earth, over which you too live in seclusion?)
Swarming with a hundred questions, my wild mind raises itself to gaze at the moon, shining a dreamy silver, brooding over a dreamy landscape
And in that little moment my lips adjusts itself to a smile so wide
For I knew that you were looking up and smiling at the moon too...
The heart fluttered with the wings of a butterfly at a love that does not exist, yet is unbelievably celestial!
A fictional write. Sometimes we are forced to imagine everything for the sake of our heart. Have an amazing year ahead, dear all. Love and blessings ❤✨
these thoughts are to you
for your soul's absorption
not mass consumed
read, discarded, reproduced
for when we share,
the nexus of eyes and thoughts
carry a spiritual dialogue
you wander the footprints
where my words have tread
feel their snow laden leaves
stare into the sky's heaviness
vortex of unexpressed ideas
we've yet to translate
hold my winter to your breast
until these words warm
kindling for midnight fires
where sparks dance
in lyrical heresy forming
memory for our minds
May our words remain true to feelings,
to the expression of authentic ideas
for  a receptive audience resulting in a
highly intimate exchange of hearts.
Veritia Venandi Dec 2020
Frost bites a heart of flesh
Sheets and sheets of ice
A fireplace and warm words to the rescue
From the wicked grip of a wintry vice!
A short one this time. Sending all of you lots and lots of warmth and heartfelt Christmas wishes ✨✨
Thank you for reading this ❤
Next page