Maybe its been practiced all along,
and all this connection to each other, just magnified it
From sending it to others, or putting it on social,
No words being said, yet so loud and noisy.
‘You should be this’, ‘They should be that’
Our world has gone wild, so preach! preach! and preach!
Sending it, reading it, watching it; no verb can replace practicing it,
Because unfortunately virtue signaling is not a substitute for possessing it.
Live this life enough
And one agrees with the stoics
Death is a release
Whine, Complain, Repeat
If self pity was answer
We all would have won
You will be, Worries
While I am Wilting Away
You are Immortal
Universal is pain
But secretly, joy is too.
Can we accept it?
Night at the desert
By the grace of crescent moon
Sight of the milky-way
Moving every moment, static illusion.
Till the disintegration, integrate back to another.
The vehicle breaks apart, inside another vehicle.
Broken vehicles, many, inside the vehicles still running,
towards, through, from, the undefined.
Unexplored visions for the untapped potential,
suffocated slowly, by the preconceived notions of ourselves.
“I was born with this much innate, and with it, I shall die.”
Where is the space for persistence, efforts, discipline, determination and improvement,
when the mind is dictated by the fixed.
Couple of decades doesn’t even make up half of an average human life,
yet, we should, we must, settle our cards, for the whole life?!
Does it seem rational, oh thinking being?
Is it not true waste of a human life?
The last thing we would experience is dying, so why are we so cruel to ourselves while we live?
Unformed ideas, masked meanings and undiscovered vocations lies within each of us.
The narrator of our story, is still us.
If we have today, we still got time.
If we are alive, then we are in our prime.
If we can will and think, we still have it in us.
Let’s just step out of our own way, first.
Strings of rain water
Dropping down the gravid clouds
Maybe there’s heaven
Do love, and be loving,
Let go, if that can’t be done.
Harm is more, in holding on,
If love has to be enforced upon.
Far away from distance, wish well and go on.
Life goes on, as life passes on,
Regrets are left, of what if’s and how people were wronged.
It can be a moment of harshness,
but it can be traced for a lifetime.
What meaning is kindness, if can’t be given to a loved one,
Wounds are not a love language, always remember.
Soultosoul_with_ivy 