Poetry is what gets lost in translation– Robert Frost
would you … allow me to write – devour the blank pages? Inscribe the thunder of emotions translated into prose & verses.
alas! my ember of being slowly giving in; the passion that burns, how do I ignite and flame?
It was a humid afternoon, sweltering by anyone’s standards. The room was filled with people grouped in their usual places, wrapped in the world of their collective making. The whole space was filled with noise, of thoughts rummaging through everyone’s head spoken clearly aloud. She was looking straight into his expressive eyes – a look…
A period of confusion and epiphany, a small hurdle in the long run of fate. Is this the face of failure, shot in success – oh such feeling of youth, full of unrest.
lacquer in ruby woo, scarlet, a real damsel’s weapon. the dark, alluring simper, her greatest poison.
A faint light is trying to seep in through the curtains draped with flower patterns of blue and green. The air felt damp – it has been drizzling all night again. Her room sets a scene of a melancholic view – the way the light touches the deep blue wall, the feeling of sadness eminent…
Years passed, caged in an enchanted sleep; Yet in this magical night, and the splendor of words, ignites the sleeping beast
Trying times, jaded mind, the white canvas, blank lines my bunker underneath this mess.
She stared at the mirror, familiarizing her every feature. Trying to hold on to her own identity, the one unstained and untouched by him.
must’ve been kismet, or call it fate maybe just my own sinful measure.
The chance I see is all it takes, my fate about to be etched forever. A white knight riding before me, an opportunity to seize – I’m ready.
In a parallel universe, colliding you and I – freezing, stopping clocks;
How does one use this privilege, this fought and died for – power?
Do I begin in the line where I’ve stopped? Do I start in the midst of the troubled now?
such sweet mem’ry envelops me – our lost love, forever haunting still.
In living, I am present; In love, yes I still am; Never in just a soul existing. Who am I?