No moon is as bright as your heart,
no sun can give the warmth your soul grants.
Shall it rain in the scrapes of my thoughts, let me sneak a peek of your light and erase my drops of black.
And I promise if you put my shreds together with faith, I shall be your dream coming true.
#review #Noob #wca #wcpp #prose
no sun can give the warmth your soul grants.
Shall it rain in the scrapes of my thoughts, let me sneak a peek of your light and erase my drops of black.
And I promise if you put my shreds together with faith, I shall be your dream coming true.
#review #Noob #wca #wcpp #prose
TITLE:
Rain and Sunlight
Painful rain pouring down
And with each drop my heart drowns
Like the heaven aiming with the arrows
They breach the armour of my sorrow
Each drop is too heavy to bear
Ripping my heart with a cunning spear
I try to find the befitting reason
For her treason in this beautiful season
As the thunder hits my eardrums
It reminds me of her temper trantrums
A Spectacle to see as they say the rain causes
But it pauses all that was beautiful
Trying to see through the clouts of clouds
But all is dizzy and all in shrouds
Brimming, my heart overflows with overwhelming pain
Searching the comfort, that she brings
Breezy wind , increases the pain of my heart
Like the game board getting hit by the darts
I don't want it to be furtive
But I don't want it be assertive
Bickering , my words can't express , how plight
Thoughts of her not being in my front gives me fright.
Hope comes along with each ray of sunlight,
Though the rain is the not the enemy that gives one fright
Calmness and serenity spread throughout the mainland,
Seems line rain and sunlight are a long term friend.
#TheInglorious
#review
#prose
Rain and Sunlight
Painful rain pouring down
And with each drop my heart drowns
Like the heaven aiming with the arrows
They breach the armour of my sorrow
Each drop is too heavy to bear
Ripping my heart with a cunning spear
I try to find the befitting reason
For her treason in this beautiful season
As the thunder hits my eardrums
It reminds me of her temper trantrums
A Spectacle to see as they say the rain causes
But it pauses all that was beautiful
Trying to see through the clouts of clouds
But all is dizzy and all in shrouds
Brimming, my heart overflows with overwhelming pain
Searching the comfort, that she brings
Breezy wind , increases the pain of my heart
Like the game board getting hit by the darts
I don't want it to be furtive
But I don't want it be assertive
Bickering , my words can't express , how plight
Thoughts of her not being in my front gives me fright.
Hope comes along with each ray of sunlight,
Though the rain is the not the enemy that gives one fright
Calmness and serenity spread throughout the mainland,
Seems line rain and sunlight are a long term friend.
#TheInglorious
#review
#prose
TITLE:
The rain
Tiny droplets like the pearls, fall from the sky,
Only to land in the effect of gravity
While some are lucky to be saved by the lotus leaves,
Others looted of their identity by the sand thieves
Some dance on the petals of rose
While some fell at the hands to fate and never rose
I envy the soil for its fragrance,
The rain gets the credit for this essence
I am taken over by nostalgia in this moment,
For the rain brings out memories that are dormant
Running mad with my friends in the mud,
And getting pampered by mother after being scolded by dad
Rain is good for the land is arid,
Not a drop of water on the continent for the bird
Rain gives life, for the cult is waiting to sow,
Waiting for the skies to stretch their heavenly bows
Drench the thirst of those parched lands,
Cause desperate the farmer stands in the lands
Waiting for the rain the heards look to the sky,
Only to wait more , the thirsty birds choose to fly
#TheInglorious
#review
#prose
The rain
Tiny droplets like the pearls, fall from the sky,
Only to land in the effect of gravity
While some are lucky to be saved by the lotus leaves,
Others looted of their identity by the sand thieves
Some dance on the petals of rose
While some fell at the hands to fate and never rose
I envy the soil for its fragrance,
The rain gets the credit for this essence
I am taken over by nostalgia in this moment,
For the rain brings out memories that are dormant
Running mad with my friends in the mud,
And getting pampered by mother after being scolded by dad
Rain is good for the land is arid,
Not a drop of water on the continent for the bird
Rain gives life, for the cult is waiting to sow,
Waiting for the skies to stretch their heavenly bows
Drench the thirst of those parched lands,
Cause desperate the farmer stands in the lands
Waiting for the rain the heards look to the sky,
Only to wait more , the thirsty birds choose to fly
#TheInglorious
#review
#prose
TITLE:
The Window
Window panes are a little dusty
The iron too became rusty
Calls me to look when it's dusky
But getting to see it is little bit risky
For the view is too grand to be ignored
I bet no one will ever be bored
Crammed up my lessons here before the exam
Dressed up near it ,in my tuxedo for the prom
Each day through the window saw the sun rise
And welcomed the moon after each days demise
Watched every uncle and aunt pass through the gate
Even Peter's funeral ,the view I would always hate
Watched the birds traversing the skies
And the aunties chatting about something secret lies the spies
Watched my mum watering the plants that bore no money
And my father trying to fix the scooter that was worth no penny
My sister when she was twelve
Casting the spell on the creature that never dwelled
Sanya calling me to go the park each evening
For the games we played that had no meaning
I remember the day when I left my house,
The window I sat on called me twice
Calling me to come back soon to the desk,
To watch more wonders through my little nest
I promised the window to reunite ,
And said it goodbye to return and enjoy the site
#TheInglorious
#review
#prose
The Window
Window panes are a little dusty
The iron too became rusty
Calls me to look when it's dusky
But getting to see it is little bit risky
For the view is too grand to be ignored
I bet no one will ever be bored
Crammed up my lessons here before the exam
Dressed up near it ,in my tuxedo for the prom
Each day through the window saw the sun rise
And welcomed the moon after each days demise
Watched every uncle and aunt pass through the gate
Even Peter's funeral ,the view I would always hate
Watched the birds traversing the skies
And the aunties chatting about something secret lies the spies
Watched my mum watering the plants that bore no money
And my father trying to fix the scooter that was worth no penny
My sister when she was twelve
Casting the spell on the creature that never dwelled
Sanya calling me to go the park each evening
For the games we played that had no meaning
I remember the day when I left my house,
The window I sat on called me twice
Calling me to come back soon to the desk,
To watch more wonders through my little nest
I promised the window to reunite ,
And said it goodbye to return and enjoy the site
#TheInglorious
#review
#prose
#Sagar
#review
#prose
Title:
Wicked, tainted feelings
Silver lining in the cloud has disappeared,
Wind that soothed the wound has run stale,
Sun that gave life has started to scorch the greens,
Water that ran free on land has turned stagnant,
Sky that was endless has been confined to window panes,
Once most beautiful views have turned to eyesore,
Living dead has been roaming the parched land,
Piousness of the saints has turned to infatuations,
Crosses of the priest now preach the devil,
Pastures have turned to graveyards for the bovines,
All hope that once existed has turned to the desert of ashes,
Dreams of the innocent are no longer pure,
Curses now seem more pure than the blessings,
Death seems more real than the living,
All beings seek to quench the thirst for blood,
Trees no longer bear the fruit of taste,
All this chaos,and still peace finds the conch that would cast it loud,
Pain is soothing as it still is the best teacher,
Despair is comforting as it is still pious to its preaching for the evil,
Poison is more realistic than the medicine,
Thorns still stand tall to guard the beautiful,
Fool seems more innocent than the dreadful genius,
Facts fade fast than the lie in the face of truth,
And still there is peace in every ounce of pain wrecking the nerves,
Wounds heal as the soul is more hurtful,
No end to this atrocious sea of thoughts haunting every minute,
For the soul is real , the pain is real but the man is void, so they say...
#review
#prose
Title:
Wicked, tainted feelings
Silver lining in the cloud has disappeared,
Wind that soothed the wound has run stale,
Sun that gave life has started to scorch the greens,
Water that ran free on land has turned stagnant,
Sky that was endless has been confined to window panes,
Once most beautiful views have turned to eyesore,
Living dead has been roaming the parched land,
Piousness of the saints has turned to infatuations,
Crosses of the priest now preach the devil,
Pastures have turned to graveyards for the bovines,
All hope that once existed has turned to the desert of ashes,
Dreams of the innocent are no longer pure,
Curses now seem more pure than the blessings,
Death seems more real than the living,
All beings seek to quench the thirst for blood,
Trees no longer bear the fruit of taste,
All this chaos,and still peace finds the conch that would cast it loud,
Pain is soothing as it still is the best teacher,
Despair is comforting as it is still pious to its preaching for the evil,
Poison is more realistic than the medicine,
Thorns still stand tall to guard the beautiful,
Fool seems more innocent than the dreadful genius,
Facts fade fast than the lie in the face of truth,
And still there is peace in every ounce of pain wrecking the nerves,
Wounds heal as the soul is more hurtful,
No end to this atrocious sea of thoughts haunting every minute,
For the soul is real , the pain is real but the man is void, so they say...
#review #Go #prose
Title: The Bastard Prince
PART-1: Epilogue
Between the leafs of a dawn, the poet’s soul arises, the writer’s spirit writes, and the head of a Mathematician goes far beyond. But underneath those, there was a boy, no less a man than the others, and a girl whom by Wagner the queen of Valkyries was called. The Dark was shown upon London, and the bright shores of the Thames, no Leader, no Queen nor King, the vicious people appeared, the river was full of Dark mysteries, but how come such proud river allowed the invaders with their tools and fools, with their machines and means, that were never seen before, struck London Bridge with a cannon so powerful, we had thought the sun was beneath our own noses. But a conquest is no more than a act of treason to ourselves, as the British people tried before, now beasts and beings of another world do as they pleased, we betray ourselves for thinking we are the ones in control, but believe in these words, no will is left uncontrolled and there’s no action that doesn’t have another with the same strength. The boy, with the small stature, that was no man, leads another army, but was it the English? Was it the Vicious? No, another one. The boy that shall be know as William, the protector, was once just another orphan, but now, he has become the greatest of men. The Army of William makes a stand in Westminster, alongside his wife, he shouts:
- Today we may die, but nevertheless, we will live forever. Who of you are with me? – And by that cry of victory, the Armies confront turns, who will conquer? Who will die?
Title: The Bastard Prince
PART-1: Epilogue
Between the leafs of a dawn, the poet’s soul arises, the writer’s spirit writes, and the head of a Mathematician goes far beyond. But underneath those, there was a boy, no less a man than the others, and a girl whom by Wagner the queen of Valkyries was called. The Dark was shown upon London, and the bright shores of the Thames, no Leader, no Queen nor King, the vicious people appeared, the river was full of Dark mysteries, but how come such proud river allowed the invaders with their tools and fools, with their machines and means, that were never seen before, struck London Bridge with a cannon so powerful, we had thought the sun was beneath our own noses. But a conquest is no more than a act of treason to ourselves, as the British people tried before, now beasts and beings of another world do as they pleased, we betray ourselves for thinking we are the ones in control, but believe in these words, no will is left uncontrolled and there’s no action that doesn’t have another with the same strength. The boy, with the small stature, that was no man, leads another army, but was it the English? Was it the Vicious? No, another one. The boy that shall be know as William, the protector, was once just another orphan, but now, he has become the greatest of men. The Army of William makes a stand in Westminster, alongside his wife, he shouts:
- Today we may die, but nevertheless, we will live forever. Who of you are with me? – And by that cry of victory, the Armies confront turns, who will conquer? Who will die?
#review #Go #prose
Title: The Bastard Prince
PART-2 A Boy
The Morning was imperative, the dark tone of the birds sang, houses of the suburbs now face that great challenge, the awakening. That everyone awakes, is no more than a lie, as there are the dumb lazy, and the smart lazy. But why should anyone awake? Why should anyone try to force themselves upon a destiny of poverty, if not more poverty? We can’t and we won’t know, but it’s those who face themselves with a challenge to be better, that move, yet a boy wouldn’t. The boy, that was named after his father, Edward, doesn’t want, the meaningless of moving out of bed scares him, so the blankets forge a fortress for him. A Crow, appears, and the boy sees him, staring at him, with two different eyes, a dark one in which life travels for despair, the other, bright and white, as the non-seeing eye, makes a prophecy of greatness and adventure, but which to trust? Does he really want such greatness after all? Al the thoughts disappeared, and he, already awaken, goes to the restroom, washes his face, stares at mirror, with a dead face, and says: ‘Let’s hope they aren’t at the school’. After that he has breakfast, with the little bread he had, with the little milk he had robbed, his mother didn’t worked, a depressive and unstable person, couldn’t hold a job for more than 1 week, being fired several times. So she would just drink Whisky all day, and after that cry herself to sleep. The house, a small apartment in the suburbs, was rotten, the walls were all yellow and black, as the smoke from the cigarettes didn’t forget. But he just accepted, he just couldn’t care about other things than paying bills, and also studying for the exams. The boy, who everyone called Robbins, was a quiet one, didn’t speak to the teachers too much, and didn’t interact with the students, as much as he could…
Title: The Bastard Prince
PART-2 A Boy
The Morning was imperative, the dark tone of the birds sang, houses of the suburbs now face that great challenge, the awakening. That everyone awakes, is no more than a lie, as there are the dumb lazy, and the smart lazy. But why should anyone awake? Why should anyone try to force themselves upon a destiny of poverty, if not more poverty? We can’t and we won’t know, but it’s those who face themselves with a challenge to be better, that move, yet a boy wouldn’t. The boy, that was named after his father, Edward, doesn’t want, the meaningless of moving out of bed scares him, so the blankets forge a fortress for him. A Crow, appears, and the boy sees him, staring at him, with two different eyes, a dark one in which life travels for despair, the other, bright and white, as the non-seeing eye, makes a prophecy of greatness and adventure, but which to trust? Does he really want such greatness after all? Al the thoughts disappeared, and he, already awaken, goes to the restroom, washes his face, stares at mirror, with a dead face, and says: ‘Let’s hope they aren’t at the school’. After that he has breakfast, with the little bread he had, with the little milk he had robbed, his mother didn’t worked, a depressive and unstable person, couldn’t hold a job for more than 1 week, being fired several times. So she would just drink Whisky all day, and after that cry herself to sleep. The house, a small apartment in the suburbs, was rotten, the walls were all yellow and black, as the smoke from the cigarettes didn’t forget. But he just accepted, he just couldn’t care about other things than paying bills, and also studying for the exams. The boy, who everyone called Robbins, was a quiet one, didn’t speak to the teachers too much, and didn’t interact with the students, as much as he could…
Prose
The night was dark and obscure,
A lady lying down,was she impure?
Her face was pale and plain,
Her body stiff and in pain
Her eyes devoid of light,
Now,her voice couldn't fight
To the society,she was at guilty,
Weren't the men who raped her did iniquity?
She was stumbling upon her thought;
Why was she the one to be caught?
Were her clothes or candidness her fault?
Are they the ones who led to her assault?
She was tired of questioning,
Everything people said to her was deafening.
Her need was a quiet and lonely place,
For her to find solace.
All she wished was to have a Krishna,
The only question that mattered was if there are millions of draupadi,then why just one Krishna..??
#prose #review #akshita
The night was dark and obscure,
A lady lying down,was she impure?
Her face was pale and plain,
Her body stiff and in pain
Her eyes devoid of light,
Now,her voice couldn't fight
To the society,she was at guilty,
Weren't the men who raped her did iniquity?
She was stumbling upon her thought;
Why was she the one to be caught?
Were her clothes or candidness her fault?
Are they the ones who led to her assault?
She was tired of questioning,
Everything people said to her was deafening.
Her need was a quiet and lonely place,
For her to find solace.
All she wished was to have a Krishna,
The only question that mattered was if there are millions of draupadi,then why just one Krishna..??
#prose #review #akshita