Tag: your struggles are important
Black rain
The innocents dying by drinking the black rain,
The rain that is poisonous but the naives are clueless,
So they drink it to soothe the burning heat,
That is making their skin wilt away.
How can this be a cheerful event?
But the victory is celebrated on the other side of the world.
The explosion of the atom was earth shattering,
That it left it’s mark on the future generations to come.
How can this catastrophe be anyone’s celebration?
How can this disaster be anyone’s new beginning?
This can only mean the last days of humanity. 
The facade
I am questioned about my worth,
I am questioned about my sanity.
What is this relation,
What is this love,
It does not liberate me,
It is the door to cage.
It does not support my dreams,
But it suffocates me.
What is this love,
What is this relation.
That only wants best of me,
That is nowhere to be found
When I am broken.
What is this love,
What is this relation.
It doesn’t know loyalty,
It doesn’t know gentleness.
It doesn’t show up for weeks,
It doesn’t care if I am alive.
What is this love,
What is this relation. 
The lie
All the pillars are falling down,
The earth under my feet is tearing apart.
The heart is pounding heavily,
The tears have dried like Drought.
The world of peace is lost somewhere,
The turmoil is what is evident.
You ask me how is your day going on,
I think for a while and tell you that I have been alright… 
Young heart
The young heart knows not much,
It follows the attention.
It cannot distinguish good from bad.
It just follows the path of impulses,
The young heart persevere,
It persevere even if it hurts,
It can’t let go, it can’t let it flow.
The young heart is pure and naive,
And it always fall for the trickster.
It is the irony of love
As it takes you down before it takes you high.
Young heart learns soon,
Young heart understands soon,
That most of the times you have to choose to love what is good for you… 
“Toxic “
They come like a cool breeze out of nowhere,
They feel like you have been waiting for them.
They make you forget even yourself,
That’s how their magic actually works.
Just when you get little too comfortable,
They will show you what they are really made of.
When you can’t stop worshipping the trickster,
They leave you with nothing but plain dejection.
They are playing and playing till they get bored,
They are taking and taking till you have no more.
They will hurt you and ask you that why you cry,
They will ignore even if you are dying.
They are nothing but something just like spirit,
They will only mess you up because they are toxic… 
“Tranquil “
Chirping of the night creatures,
Humming of the electricity,
The light people are falling down,
And the night children are wide awake.
The stillness of the air makes the sound of pen on roll crystal clear.
The smell of the moist dry earth soothes like no other .
It’s the night that is showing its magic or the work of the ink,
That the clutter in my mind no longer lives…
“The worship “
You were there when no one cared,
You saw my each and every breath,
You observed my each karma.
You stayed silent when I desperately wanted answers,
But you did answer my prayers when I was at the edge.
You saw me jumping off the cliff,
But made Falling an enriching experience.
I fell on my head and everything was blur for so long,
Then like a wave upward you brought me back to the surface,
Filling me with the persistence to swim.
I kept swimming till I reached a safe coast,
How can I be grateful for the struggles you gave me,
That showed me how your miracle works. 
“The unique one “
She was not the usual beauty,
That made her the unique one.
She didn’t conform, she didn’t bend,
She was opinionated with loud and clear determination.
She would not back down by your bullets,
She will rise again with her phoenix wings. 
“She deface herself… “
She is harmful for herself because she let’s in toxic people,
She is dangerous for herself because she never says no,
She is unsuitable for herself because she let’s people walk all over her;
You must think it’s her fault to not take stand for herself,
But let me tell you that the little her couldn’t think for herself,
The little her searched love in pain,
The little her believed that being hurt was good and normal,
Because it came from ‘them’;
‘Them’were the people with whom she started her life.
How do you expect that she would have questioned her blood,
So, now that’s how it all hardwired in her brain.
She is not unfamiliar with the terrible mishap;
And she knows that she is in love with pain… 
Soultosoul_with_ivy 