Lost in words


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Beyond the rhyme , the words and the lines ,
There is a lot more in poetry.
Please ask for permission when share my writings.
@logomonaic

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A mystery

She seemed a mystery,
She has hidden her pain
and anger in her eyes,
She fooled them all
With her smile and
Well woven lies.

She was made of wishes
Cast on shooting stars,
She was the hidden universe
No one had known so far.

She drank the lonely feeling
Of dark nights and bright moon ,
She wore the essence of raindrops
That descended down during monsoon.

She carries the warmth of
Morning sunlight that
takes away dew of the leaves ,
Her heart has its own library,
As she has a bookshelf for
The secrets she keeps.

She was the silence between
The words left unsaid,
She was the most beautiful
Composition,one could have ever read!


Time doesn't heal

Time isn't a healer,
It doesn't heal all wounds,
They say it cures the pain,
But , they're wrong!

It mocks my scars
As they turn old,
It breaks me every single time
No matter how hard I try to hold.

The scars are never gone ,
Just lessens the pain,
On a not so fine day,
The pain worsens and
The wounds bleed again .

I don't know if the battle
Is against time or pain,
As when you're wounded ,
They both are evils ,
and thus th
e same.


Why I write

I write when my heart
gets too heavy to hold,
I write about my scars ,
new and old.

I write when I have
a lot to share,
But to hear it out,
no one has time to spare.

I write when I feel
as lonely as one could be,
When not tears, but the well dressed
smile is what one could see.

I write when thoughts
in my mind begin to sink,
I write to share
whatever I think.

I write , not with  the desire
of being known,
But to know the voice
within my soul.


She faded in the fragrance of flowers,
She faded among the delicate droplets of rain showers.
She faded in the stardust of stars,
She faded within her deep scars.

She faded among the crowded streets and city lights,
She faded among the calm breeze in dark nights.
She faded among the wind whispering through the trees,
She was freed , and faded to a place she belongs to be.


Society

I see them dressed up to see the clown,
All excited , to laugh over someone's frown.
How are they so rude , so inhumane,
Just see the well dressed fake smile
And not the ugly pain.

That's how they are ,
that's how they're meant to be,
Yes I live in a hell , called society
They're too fast to judge,
Too slow to understand ,
What pain one has to go through ,
And what situations they have to withstand .


Where do I belong

I love reading books, as I search for
The flecks of my stardust,
The mysteries of my stars,
The missing pieces of my puzzle,
That, while integrating, fell apart.

I struggle to find them
Within the lines of the pages,
And in stories swirling around,
I try to find where I belong!


She is the cloud of rainbow colors,
A single rose among tulip flowers,
She's beautiful deep down to her soul,
Even with her thorns, she's the only one in the whole.


My colorful world collapsed
to black and white,
I started to hate mornings
and love dark nights,
How your words had hurt me ,
you surely have no clue,
Though late , but I realized that
black and white are beautiful too
.


She cried and cried,
Stars witnessed why she lied,
The universe sang her
Golden hum to sleep,
The Magical moonlight
Guarded all her secrets deep.

Stars heard all her stories
she cried aloud,
The noise of her silence
remained unnoticed by the crowd.
The  starry sky wiped off  her tears,
Gave her strength to stand
against her darkest fears.

She was the silence within
the noise breaking apart,
She was the epitome of beauty,
with a golden heart.
She loved the stars, moon
and the cosmos,
As it was the same stardust
she was composed of.
She was the shooting star they
wished for in the dark sky,
She was the miracle of life
disguised as a beautiful lie
.


MY ESCAPE

For many, reading a book
Helps to cope up with life,
But for me , a book drives
Me away like a kite
To a new world, and submerge me in,
Just like a submarine in the sea ,
Like a bird when it flees,
Like a train in it's motion
And like a devotee in devotion.

Books are an escape ,
From this 'real' world
Which enrich us with experiences
Even of happenings that never really happened.

Books are like witch craft ,
Which once read,
cast a spell, impossible to be freed ,
But still books never mislead.

While reading,
I glide and drift among the words,
Climb over the pages
And sing along the verse.
I cry in distraut
But still read it
Then laugh with instinct
And admire it.

Reading a book is an experience,
The best among the others ,
Cause' reading creates a bridge connecting
Real and the imaginary world.

When you're sad and need an escape,
You're feeling down but no one's there for your sake,
When you need someone to share your joy, grief and pleasure ,
Then the best thing is the knowledge's treasure.

As you read the words,
You'll live them,
Feeling the joy, hurt and the pain.
They'll take you to the woods deep,
The sky pink at the highest peak,
The demon's hell,
Or where the fairies meet.
The place is unknown , but still soothy,
Is it a dream or a scene from a movie ?
No , it's none of them ,
But a helping hand ,
An authentic friend ,
A treasure of knowledge
An entertaining package .

Books and music , no doubt ,
Are human's best creations ,
Created to relieve their own frustration.
They're  our medicine and saviour,
Heel the wounds left s
evere .

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