In a golden cage
With clipped wings
And fettered by its owner
Until she saw him
Fluttering around the cage
Trying to break the chains
Sharing the nectar
A beautiful reminder
Of love, hope and life.
It's all over me and inside me,
From the uppermost layers of dead cells of my skin,
To the innermost dark caves of my soul,
From birth to till this age,
All those fingerprints had made me,
And moulded me.
The tapping hands on my back when I was born to make me breath,
The soothing ones when I cried,
The loving touch of my mother and father,
And the caring ones of my beloved grandparents.
The naughty ones of my little brother who pulled my hair during fights,
Teachers who gave their blessings on my head,
The friends who loved to hold my hands and hug,
And the family next-door who gave me food when my parents were not at home.
The touch of a person who I loved the most,
The words of the same which made prints on my heart and soul,
The people who disgraced me for who I'm,
The hands which tore me inside out.
The little fingers which aroused all my motherly instincts,
To love and to care without any conditions,
To be strong against all the evils when it's needed,
To find happiness and be hopeful about the future.
The person who left me hanging on the thread,
The people who ruined everything what was left,
The hands which shattered everything one after another,
To destroy my life and to crush my spirit.
All those fingerprints in my life,
Taught me how to be a human,
To be brave and vulnerable at the same time,
To be positive when I find negativity all outside,
To smile and be kind to someone who is being unkind.
Tired and fed up on herself,
She felt hopeless,
On her way back home,
She found chaos everywhere,
Not only around her,
But also in her mind.
Shouting with excitement that her mama is home,
Her little daughter opened the door when she rang the bell,
Seeing her mama all exhausted,
And offering to give a head massage with her little fingers,
The daughter smiled pouring out all her love and care,
And she found her little piece of heaven,
On her daughter's lap.
There is fire, as all of us know,
Comes from unknown and then puts up a show,
Hot by nature, providing us light,
It saves us from the cold dark night.
So beautiful to see that it attracts the fireflies,
Gives them the complete happiness before it ignites,
All the hopes deeply buried in them,
And then destroys them into ashes, what a gem!
There is water which is nothing like fire,
Gives selflessly and will never retire,
Flowing calmly, it bends and bows,
Acknowledges all the obstructions, before it overflows.
Changing its form when required,
Its flexibility is always admired,
Taking it for granted, don't you dare,
Only a fool will underestimate it's power, beware!
There is a mystical place where fire and water live together,
Where they don't mind being with each other,
Fire burns in its heart but water is its soul,
Like a werewolf who is hurt with a silver knife, they make it growl,
Then, they decide to unite in a peculiar way,
To come out as tears while it tries to smile all the pain away.
Merry Christmas everyone… Hope you all are having a wonderful day. May this day bring us all love, peace, happiness and hope..
Drew this a few days ago. The happiness and enthusiasm in the cat’s eyes caught my attention. It is actually admiring its little friend.
Where are those days were people used to actually talk?
When they had the time to look into someone's eyes and speak their heart,
When they sat next to each other without any gadgets,
But holding their hands.
Where they used to lie down on the ground,
Looking at the sky,
They found 'Seven Sisters',
And taking their time for the dreams to unfold.
Where are those days where a single flower from the lover was considered so precious,
That it was secretly kept in between the pages of your favorite book?
Where there was no Facebook or Instagram to declare your love,
But used to spend days with hope waiting for their loved ones' letters.
Where are those days where there was a Romeo for a Juliet?
A Mr. Darcy for an Elizabeth?
A Majnu for a Laila?
And a Dante for a Beatrice?
May be I'm just an old soul,
Looking for true love and kindness in this robotic world,
Or may be I'm in wrong space and time where I don't belong,
I think I should get back to my time machine.
Fallen leaves lying down in disgrace,
While waiting to be crumbled and crushed by others,
They feel the ground, so cold and dead,
And see the grey sky with no ray of hope.
They remember the spring when they were new and fresh,
So beautiful, green and tender,
They were the best companions of the tree whom they adored,
And shared everything with each other so that they could grow.
Then came the summer where they loved to give shelter,
To everyone who came to them from the scorching sun,
Or from the downpour in June,
Their compassion and care helped others to live, love and breed.
In autumn, they brought colors into life,
The trees adorned them like precious ornaments,
Enjoying everyone's attention and praise,
They were at their peak.
Then, they started to fall,
Some even didn't try,
But others gave a fight with the wind,
Not willing to let go off that tiny little connection with their mate.
Lying on the ground they can see the bare tree, their old companion,
The squirrels, birds and the insects to whom they gave shelters to,
And the people who found shade under them too.
So now, they are waiting for winter eagerly,
To cover themselves with snow,
To erase all the memories,
To forget and to be forgotten.