“Withered Rose”

Oh! how I resemble to a plucked rose,
Soon my fragility,My beauty,                        My love will wither,                                          I will wither! leaving my scent in the hands of my plucker,

My thorns will lose their roughness,               I will decay into nothingness,                     This will be my punishment for falling for the wrong plucker, 

The right plucker would have savoured my beauty,would have glassed my fragility keeping me safe from the dull world,

Would have caressed my thorns in acceptance,                                                       He would have known the value of my roughness, of my sharpness! 

I would have been delicate to my kind gardener, he would have tendered my roots, I would have blossomed into a tree,           His tree!

But My gardener is lost and I his delicate rose have fallen for a wrong plucker, who seeks pleasure in cutting my branches,      My poor petals,                                                Who has axed my stem So I can no longer bloom, 

Now my leaves don’t dance with the wind, My roots no longer hold the ground,          My stem no longer breathe,                         My branches no longer expand.                    

Once a bush full of life, now a decayed masterpiece!                                                       A warning for the fresh sprouts beware never fall for the wrong plucker!

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“Faithful Hypocrites”

Oh! how we are born magicians,                 We play dirty tricks our entire life,

It is all a mere illusion, our front has a different story to tell,

We fool the world with our tongues, with our smile, with our thoughts,

such hypocisy, such vileness!

The sinner is not a sinner, the innocent is not an innocent!

If you want to know who I really am, hypnotise me, Unconscious is the only place where the monster roams freely, Question it and it will tell you a tale of reality!

When you will come face to face with it, you will forget what death is, what a mask is, what a hypocrite is!

God! I have fooled the world mercilessly, I have put on a show, where the parade of masked souls dance and celebrate honesty, 

Where the Liar is the pious one and the honest one is behind bars or hanged for being honest!

We live on a planet called hypocrisy, we the faithful hypocrites!

“Lost Soul”

To be lost is a blessing,                                   To be care free,                                                To be ignorant,

What does a man with a present mind has except worries and troubles,                        The perks of being a lost soul calls me, it pulls me in,

It shows me the perks as a dish on a silver platter, It wants me to join the Land of the lost souls,

Oh what have I gained from being a realist! 

Except sorrows and pains,                        Heart breaks and betrayal,                 Sadness and depression,

Oh How I wish I was lost!                           How I wish I was free, How I wish I had wings that would transit me to the other world,the world of the lost,

To escape the prison of reality, to be a member of Fantasy,

The goblins of reality haunts the poor realist souls but the angels of fantasy/Ignorance sprinkle some magic in our path,

And we sometimes drift to greatness,        We indulge in Peace as we stand in the middle of war,                                                  In the storm untouched by lightning,       Stay afloat on the sea of destruction. 

“Farewell Friend”

Alas! Good bye knocked again on my door this evening, what a surprise!

I had hid the welcome mat from it but still it found it from the ashes of the remaining pieces that I burned, restored it, placed it back on my door step, 

I swinged my door open in hope for a new welcome but sadly it was another goodbye!

Farewell my friend, May you soar high and make your place among the stars on the beautiful aerial blue sky,

You have left me saddened but I will survive, I will move on and Pray that you rise high!,

Good byes are a part of life but they still make me cry but what can I say I am still a human not to mention sensitive from the inside, 

I am a girl with passion in my veins, Love running in place of blood, invisible wings made of fire.

A fire that keeps me running that keeps me fueled up to survive life.

Farewell mate, May you win all the battles of your life!

May you never fall and if you fall you stand back up again stronger than before,

Atleast this time it gave me a chance to say good bye, I am happy that we ended our story with a smile!, we will move on with our life, you will lead your road, I will lead mine but don’t forget my friend that we will still be friends forever even when we die!

Farewell my friend, this is our last good bye! 

This work is dedicated to my pal Diganta Misra thank you for your friendship mate! I will always remember you, you were one of my first friends in this blog world, now you are leaving your blogging world, it’s sad but this is a part of life.

I had coined a phrase that I gifted you “Cherry in the strawberry field” that is as unique as you, now I wrote a farewell post for you, so you will take beautiful memories with you on your journey! take good care of it Diganta! Good bye 😥

https://digantamisra1.wordpress.com/

“Wanderer’s dream”

His storm of a heart,                                   Was put to rest by her rainbow of touch,

She became his identity, his personality,    He was made entirely of her,

When he spoke her thoughts were spoken, When he smiled her passion was seen, When he walked, she was like his shadow, When he cried she crawled out from his eyes as tears,

She became his everything,                           She was the dream he dreamed every night,              Not to touch,only to keep,                           Her memories were his favorite muse!

she was his escape, she was his fantasy, she was his reality.

She was only present in his dreams, keeping an eye on him, guiding him through the rough routes of the journey,

she was his prayer, she was his guardian angel,                                                              that looked from the above over her misguided, often misunderstood wanderer.

She was the path, he was a wanderer!           He was her angel often misunderstood by the cruel world as a demon with wings.

His wings were darkened by the fights he fought for her against the world,                    

Strange! the one who is lost forever guides the living one and the one who lives, is a mere empty vessel seeking refuge in the wings of the lost soldier!

Seeking refuge in the lost world!

“Degree In Hand”

Sometimes growing up feels like I am moving forward,
Sometimes it feels like I am closer to death,

Sometimes it highlights my body with unknown sensations of positivity, negativity or nega-positive feelings, 

My heart beats like a drum, my mind flows like a drape in windy weather, 

My goals want me to soar high but still I feel very far from the beautiful aerial sky,

As we grow up suddenly I feel like my positivity is fading away, as I stand face to face with life!

with a degree in hand I stand there with jocund, aesthetic feelings looking far from where I stand,

picturizing my future as magnificent as I dreamt it would be!

Oh! the sorcery of reality that had summoned me when I was young has dismissed me now as I stand here degree in my hand,

Just me and my degree isolated from the rest!

Why do I still feel like I am standing at the same mount from where I started to trek!

“I stand alone Degree in hand”

“Eyes”

Everbody is fighting a war,

As a sole surviver trodding down the hell road,

he fights,he dodges,he wins against the Hell Gods,

If you want to know the depth of my problems,stare in my eyes,

As you would see what I have been through and what have I conquered, my eyes never lie!

To assume One is not fighting a war as fierce as yours is a crime,

Cause if you ever be placed in someone else’s shoes, you would return them back to it’s owner and say May God give you strength,

Every one is fighting a battle, every one is on a different level, fighting with different monsters, trying to survive life.

Every man for himself, it’s the survival of the fittest. 

My eyes are like the mirror that reflects my inner self but it is also a dungeon for my blood thirsty demons that try to run away and spread havoc.

War for peace! War for a cause!