Piyush Sharma

Mar 29

Sarita Aditya Verma

He walked in the fields alone
The clouds above big and heavy
Dark grey, filled with gloom
Every other noon

There was no road
Unsettling music was played in the sky
Orchestrated by the clouds

He walked unafraid
Not knowing his fate
Desirous of the rains

He had tilled the land
Until it grew green
Prosperity rained

He stumbled upon the gold
In the ancestral remains
Deserted by the predecessors
He thanked every grain

Mar 19

Surkhab

To the sailors of my ocean

These shades of love
Which seem like the end
What could be better than this ?
What more could universe offer?
One left others came
For how long could I celebrate your departure
When the ones who came
Celebrated me
Their heads fall on my shoulders
And it makes me believe
Winters do lead to springs
I feel so full right now
As if these emotions would drown me
A wish to worship
Or may be to be worshiped?
Well that won’t happen
As I didn’t even realise
And I had turned into an ocean
And the depth would do nothing
But **** them
So I have begun to keep ships on the shores
So they can sail around
Because at the end
They are all sailors
On a voyage of their own
Sailing through this ocean
Carrying a part of it with them
The fear shouldn’t be in question
But this devotion creates one
This seems like the end
What could be better than this?
What more could this universe give ?
All of this
Seems forever…
But then….
How long is this forever?

🚢

#poetry #hello #ocean #isthereaforever

Piyush Sharma Mar 16

Exiled Ink

He walked out on himself,
Left his book half-finished,
Buried deep within his shelf,
His skin burnt down to thinnest.
The pen was always his escape,
Then was it the pen, the paper or the reader
That made him forsake his escape?
The creator inked through its remaining life,
The vessel consoled the words under all eyes,
The receiver breathed meaning into the words,
Then who was it that discerns?
But...
What was his story...?
Was he reciting it...?
Or was it reciting him...?
Is he returning for his glory...?

Depicting any/all writer's phase when the pen is taken away without a choice and a practical cold life wishing them to come home and pen his words to a place not judged.
my homecoming to hellopoetry <3

#why

Piyush Sharma Mar 10

Thin Threads

He chased the sun, yet cursed the night,
Not knowing darkness held the light.
A single step and a moment’s choice,
Echoed loud in regret’s own voice.

We knew not all was ever bright,
But time had made the flaws feel right.
Now loss has carved its hollow space,
A whispered name, an empty place.
A home lost through ignored time,
And a shadow found under absence of light.

And if fate dares to mend the past,
It won’t be whole—unless it lasts.

For the times, when regret seeks us during the nights and us seeking regrets during the days.

Piyush Sharma Feb 24

Echoes of the Broken Vase

Mending cracks that never formed,
Grasping treasures never torn.
Silenced words that stayed unseen,
Lifeless eyes now softly gleam.
Yet...,
Scents of fate - a breath forsaken,
Drifting high yet left to harden,
Threads of lives left unentwined,
Dreams to nightmares, hearts confined.
. . .
Overthought yet truths still spoken,
Chasing love that stayed unbroken.

"Things are lost, when overprotected, under the fear of being undeserving"

#unbroken #treasure #fate #forsaken #unseen #chase

Piyush Sharma Dec 2024

Threads of Silence

These loose strings that i find no use of
Should i cut them free
Or sew them tighter.
For what’s next i seek no attention to
For what’s hidden, was never meant to see through.
Billions and still counting…
For the absence it was never bothered of,
Unknown reasons the night had howled for.
Forced nightmares out of the dreamy eyes,
The eyes that never could seem any light from,
Or had it even wished to seek any..
After the eclipse it was forced to see through and the new moons it had to weep through.

#threads #silence #recovery

— The End —