"SHALLOW BRIDGE OF STRONG HOPE" - by Chandhu
"Sitting here on this small wooden bridge at midnight, which is connecting two places of my town, resembling my mind connecting two different personalities of myself, pretending to be tough, yet it's so fragile as a rose petal deep inside.The stream of water flowing under this bridge, resembling the chain of thoughts I'm unable to control. Crickets hopping over those Lotus leaves making chirping sounds in chorus, at least making me feel I'm not alone. I'm so broken inside, people said "you're very sensitive for a guy, so don't often open the door wide". Hmm, as if there's a door to my heart ever, I've always put it out open, to the people I care about, Inturn it's left with scars. See ! it's so tender even this pale moonlight is evaporating all the blood it's pumping with affection. It's so desperate to get healed by someone. Sad memories are killing me from inside, I wanna cry so hard right now, but I couldn't. only few drops left for the day, making a thin flimsy layer of tears on my eyes, so less that they even might not want to jump off my eyelids, leaving me all empty and dry. I'm glad for that, also sad for that, Because, they are making it more blurry of this already miserable state. My held back tears are making stars twinkle more in my eyes, it's seeming like they're clicking polaroids of me from above, mockingly saying, "see that whining soul below", to each other. I could wipe my tears right now, but my hands are frozen as if it's a sleep-paralysis nightmare I'm going through. I'm wide awake, yet bewildered. To end all this sorrow at once, the water below the bridge inviting me to pounce. But I won't, because I'm not so timid to run away from life. Townsfolk used to say, this bridge is so shallow that it'll collapse sooner or later. I know it won't !, so I am. We're holding each other in this gloomy night, while I have to decide if I should go back to home, or go forward in search of purpose and meaning of my existence, also to find someone who really cares about, by choosing one of the ends of this bridge, being an optimist with full of hope. Swimming through the quick sand of pain, I'm sure I will reach a shore after all this vain. Now let me rest, O' lonely night !, until the rays of hope spread a carpet for me from the east, by this sunrise."
[ As those crickets stopped chirping for the night, boy got off the bridge, took his guitar and backpack from below, started walking forward towards the warm orange light of dawn, picking up some tune from the morning birds, with a slight smile of clarity on his face, he started whistling along with them. Finally both the silhouette of the boy and his whistle tune faded away into the far East ] #review #Review #freeVerse #poetry
"Sitting here on this small wooden bridge at midnight, which is connecting two places of my town, resembling my mind connecting two different personalities of myself, pretending to be tough, yet it's so fragile as a rose petal deep inside.The stream of water flowing under this bridge, resembling the chain of thoughts I'm unable to control. Crickets hopping over those Lotus leaves making chirping sounds in chorus, at least making me feel I'm not alone. I'm so broken inside, people said "you're very sensitive for a guy, so don't often open the door wide". Hmm, as if there's a door to my heart ever, I've always put it out open, to the people I care about, Inturn it's left with scars. See ! it's so tender even this pale moonlight is evaporating all the blood it's pumping with affection. It's so desperate to get healed by someone. Sad memories are killing me from inside, I wanna cry so hard right now, but I couldn't. only few drops left for the day, making a thin flimsy layer of tears on my eyes, so less that they even might not want to jump off my eyelids, leaving me all empty and dry. I'm glad for that, also sad for that, Because, they are making it more blurry of this already miserable state. My held back tears are making stars twinkle more in my eyes, it's seeming like they're clicking polaroids of me from above, mockingly saying, "see that whining soul below", to each other. I could wipe my tears right now, but my hands are frozen as if it's a sleep-paralysis nightmare I'm going through. I'm wide awake, yet bewildered. To end all this sorrow at once, the water below the bridge inviting me to pounce. But I won't, because I'm not so timid to run away from life. Townsfolk used to say, this bridge is so shallow that it'll collapse sooner or later. I know it won't !, so I am. We're holding each other in this gloomy night, while I have to decide if I should go back to home, or go forward in search of purpose and meaning of my existence, also to find someone who really cares about, by choosing one of the ends of this bridge, being an optimist with full of hope. Swimming through the quick sand of pain, I'm sure I will reach a shore after all this vain. Now let me rest, O' lonely night !, until the rays of hope spread a carpet for me from the east, by this sunrise."
[ As those crickets stopped chirping for the night, boy got off the bridge, took his guitar and backpack from below, started walking forward towards the warm orange light of dawn, picking up some tune from the morning birds, with a slight smile of clarity on his face, he started whistling along with them. Finally both the silhouette of the boy and his whistle tune faded away into the far East ] #review #Review #freeVerse #poetry
"SHALLOW BRIDGE OF STRONG HOPE" - by Chandhu.
"Sitting here on this small wooden bridge at midnight, which is connecting two places of my town, resembling my mind connecting two different personalities of myself, pretending to be tough, yet it's so fragile as a rose petal deep inside.The stream of water flowing under this bridge, resembling the chain of thoughts I'm unable to control. Crickets hopping over those Lotus leaves making chirping sounds in chorus, at least making me feel I'm not alone. I'm so broken inside, people said "you're very sensitive for a guy, so don't often open the door wide". Hmm, as if there's a door to my heart ever, I've always put it out open, to the people I care about, Inturn it's left with scars. See ! it's so tender even this pale moonlight is evaporating all the blood it's pumping with affection. It's so desperate to get healed by someone. Sad memories are killing me from inside, I wanna cry so hard right now, but I couldn't. only few drops left for the day, making a thin flimsy layer of tears on my eyes, so less that they even might not want to jump off my eyelids, leaving me all empty and dry. I'm glad for that, also sad for that, Because, they are making it more blurry of this already miserable state. My held back tears are making stars twinkle more in my eyes, it's seeming like they're clicking polaroids of me from above, mockingly saying, "see that whining soul below", to each other. I could wipe my tears right now, but my hands are frozen as if it's a sleep-paralysis nightmare I'm going through. I'm wide awake, yet bewildered. To end all this sorrow at once, the water below the bridge inviting me to pounce. But I won't, because I'm not so timid to run away from life. Townsfolk used to say, this bridge is so shallow that it'll collapse sooner or later. I know it won't !, so I am. We're holding each other in this gloomy night, while I have to decide if I should go back to home, or go forward in search of purpose and meaning of my existence, also to find someone who really cares about, by choosing one of the ends of this bridge, being an optimist with full of hope. Swimming through the quick sand of pain, I'm sure I will reach a shore after all this vain. Now let me rest, O' lonely night !, until the rays of hope spread a carpet for me from the east, by this sunrise."
[ As those crickets stopped chirping for the night, boy got off the bridge, took his guitar and backpack from below, started walking forward towards the warm orange light of dawn, picking up some tune from the morning birds, with a slight smile of clarity on his face, he started whistling along with them. Finally both the silhouette of the boy and his whistle tune faded away into the far East ]
#review #Review #freeVerse #poetry
"Sitting here on this small wooden bridge at midnight, which is connecting two places of my town, resembling my mind connecting two different personalities of myself, pretending to be tough, yet it's so fragile as a rose petal deep inside.The stream of water flowing under this bridge, resembling the chain of thoughts I'm unable to control. Crickets hopping over those Lotus leaves making chirping sounds in chorus, at least making me feel I'm not alone. I'm so broken inside, people said "you're very sensitive for a guy, so don't often open the door wide". Hmm, as if there's a door to my heart ever, I've always put it out open, to the people I care about, Inturn it's left with scars. See ! it's so tender even this pale moonlight is evaporating all the blood it's pumping with affection. It's so desperate to get healed by someone. Sad memories are killing me from inside, I wanna cry so hard right now, but I couldn't. only few drops left for the day, making a thin flimsy layer of tears on my eyes, so less that they even might not want to jump off my eyelids, leaving me all empty and dry. I'm glad for that, also sad for that, Because, they are making it more blurry of this already miserable state. My held back tears are making stars twinkle more in my eyes, it's seeming like they're clicking polaroids of me from above, mockingly saying, "see that whining soul below", to each other. I could wipe my tears right now, but my hands are frozen as if it's a sleep-paralysis nightmare I'm going through. I'm wide awake, yet bewildered. To end all this sorrow at once, the water below the bridge inviting me to pounce. But I won't, because I'm not so timid to run away from life. Townsfolk used to say, this bridge is so shallow that it'll collapse sooner or later. I know it won't !, so I am. We're holding each other in this gloomy night, while I have to decide if I should go back to home, or go forward in search of purpose and meaning of my existence, also to find someone who really cares about, by choosing one of the ends of this bridge, being an optimist with full of hope. Swimming through the quick sand of pain, I'm sure I will reach a shore after all this vain. Now let me rest, O' lonely night !, until the rays of hope spread a carpet for me from the east, by this sunrise."
[ As those crickets stopped chirping for the night, boy got off the bridge, took his guitar and backpack from below, started walking forward towards the warm orange light of dawn, picking up some tune from the morning birds, with a slight smile of clarity on his face, he started whistling along with them. Finally both the silhouette of the boy and his whistle tune faded away into the far East ]
#review #Review #freeVerse #poetry
Set me free from the prison of your memories
How long will you keep me captive! Let me go
Let me go...!! from this beautiful rented "Heart"
I'm it's tenant; And i ain't worthy of your "Trust"
#Akash #Review #freeverse
How long will you keep me captive! Let me go
Let me go...!! from this beautiful rented "Heart"
I'm it's tenant; And i ain't worthy of your "Trust"
#Akash #Review #freeverse
Tree of Spirits
There is a world far beyond our own,
Where there is a tree and not a soul.
Planted on the dark side of the horizon
It harbors the spirits lost in tragedies
Struggling to find a place in Heaven.
When the moon sneaks above the sky
Looking like a black orb without radiance,
Looms out of the dark clouds with a sneer,
Then the tree glows in vibrant colors
With smoky hues of red, green and blue
Forming a grim nimbus around it.
This grotesque spectacle is conjured
By the occult of witches and warlocks
For the souls try to take forms of the past
In a hellish way to liberate themselves
From the leash of branches entwined
Within the hideous trunk from which
Beautiful faces and rotten skulls and
Mortified eyes peer into the darkness
In a despairing search for a glimpse
Of something that breathes.
(c) Amit Herlekar
#freeverse #review
There is a world far beyond our own,
Where there is a tree and not a soul.
Planted on the dark side of the horizon
It harbors the spirits lost in tragedies
Struggling to find a place in Heaven.
When the moon sneaks above the sky
Looking like a black orb without radiance,
Looms out of the dark clouds with a sneer,
Then the tree glows in vibrant colors
With smoky hues of red, green and blue
Forming a grim nimbus around it.
This grotesque spectacle is conjured
By the occult of witches and warlocks
For the souls try to take forms of the past
In a hellish way to liberate themselves
From the leash of branches entwined
Within the hideous trunk from which
Beautiful faces and rotten skulls and
Mortified eyes peer into the darkness
In a despairing search for a glimpse
Of something that breathes.
(c) Amit Herlekar
#freeverse #review
Tree of Spirits
There is a world far beyond our own,
Where there is a tree and not a soul.
Planted on the dark side of the horizon
It harbors the spirits lost in tragedies
Struggling to find a place in Heaven.
When the moon sneaks above the sky
Looking like a black orb without radiance,
Looms out of the dark clouds with a sneer,
Then the tree glows in vibrant colors
With smoky hues of red, green and blue
Forming a grim nimbus around it.
This grotesque spectacle is conjured
By the occult of witches and warlocks
For the souls try to take forms of the past
In a hellish way to liberate themselves
From the leash of branches entwined
Within the hideous trunk from which
Beautiful faces and rotten skulls and
Mortified eyes peer into the darkness
In a despairing search for a glimpse
Of something that breathes.
(c) Amit Herlekar
#freeverse #review
There is a world far beyond our own,
Where there is a tree and not a soul.
Planted on the dark side of the horizon
It harbors the spirits lost in tragedies
Struggling to find a place in Heaven.
When the moon sneaks above the sky
Looking like a black orb without radiance,
Looms out of the dark clouds with a sneer,
Then the tree glows in vibrant colors
With smoky hues of red, green and blue
Forming a grim nimbus around it.
This grotesque spectacle is conjured
By the occult of witches and warlocks
For the souls try to take forms of the past
In a hellish way to liberate themselves
From the leash of branches entwined
Within the hideous trunk from which
Beautiful faces and rotten skulls and
Mortified eyes peer into the darkness
In a despairing search for a glimpse
Of something that breathes.
(c) Amit Herlekar
#freeverse #review
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