OUR MASQUERADE PARTY !

 

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Perhaps we have ceased to love,
We are looking for something that’s no longer there,
We once were each other’s sunshine,
But now we are trapped in the darkness,
Unwilling to admit it was a thing of the past.

Perhaps both of us have been consumed,
And just the dull ashes remain ,
Only to be blown away by the passing wind.

We once wrote of our love on the shore,
But the waves washed it away,
Left no trace of what was,
We whispered to the moon,
Told him of our love,
But now he hides behind the clouds,
Ignorant of all we said.

Or maybe we were wearing masks,
But now the masquerade is over,
Nothing but throbbing, dull melancholy remains,

We dreamt of a new world over the rainbow,
But alas,it never rained ,
Perhaps we hold the key to these chains,
But still we remain bound

#putMeDownOnPaper.

PROMISE TO DANCE WITH ME.

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 I will walk to the farthest end of the country, to get you a rose ,
Just promise me that you will dance with me. 
I will give you all my broken heartbeats
Just swear that you will come out with me to the jungle.
In the full moon night, 

We will walk hand in hand 
To the weed fed pond,
Drunk with the aroma of the golden moon, 
The mist creeping onto the walls of air.
Trying to decipher the cries of the owl, 
The fleeting fireflies and the lustful aura.. 
The pond will fluoresce the eyes of sorrow
With a nebulous glow,we will stare, 
Unexplained will be the swirling of stars, 
Stunned will be the dreary morrow. 

The pond will be beaming with love for the moon, 
The breeze will caress the dust of the moon, 
And you and I will silently ogle the beauty. 

Hark! Let the bird watch the beams play with the ripples, 
Let the moss inhale the scent of the drill, 
Let the pond cry over uneventful chronicles, 
Let the drug flow through the veins of Thrill.. 

The maddening stillness, the lazy lust, 
The silent rays which invite us
The cicada crying for its mate, 
And the red hunt of the stars.. 

You and I will talk to them all, 
Drowning in the eerie Dark 
Waiting for the night not to end at all
Waiting for the morning star to vanish.. 
In our cocooned slumber, 
We will embrace the sin, 
The passionate rubicund of the secret affair,
Burning till it consumes them all

#putMeDownOnPaper.

THE STORY ABOUT MY STORY

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She says this with tears in her eyeballs
She regrets not sharing it but again sharing it will make her naustagic
Because she’s my friend I keep nagging her
Atleast to have a glimpse of wat she feels
She claims she’s a rebel to the feelings of her heart
but her eyes betrays her every time she tries to hide it from me
Her story has become part of me n I now own n share in her pain
I know it wouldn’t be pain if she could just open up and speak her heart out
This time not her mind am sorry to say
This is now my story because she is my story
She can’t speak it out to me but av learnt to listen to her thoughts
I know it pricks her to the bone I know wat she feels when she sees Ryan
But av learnt to shut my mouth up just like she wants to be, it has to stay that way
This story has lived in me for the past “a thousand years” and just like her  am afraid to let it out
We’ve become one in spirit n soul
And now wat I fear the most has happened I like wat she likes and I love wat she loves.
I DON’T KNOW IF IT’S THE BEGINNING OR ENDING OF THE STORY.

Continue reading

RESURRECTION.

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She gazed at him 
Searching his soul
through the window of sparkling blue eyes,
pondering whether to place her greatest treasure in him 
Is there empathy? Is there honesty? 
A trace of loyalty,
A kind gentle nature perhaps,
Doubt has been her friend for too long 
Not allowing trust to call upon

She looks at her delicate treasure 
It is bleeding and slowly losing life
How much time left? 
till it goes cold and numb,
till it generates no emotion, no feeling

Trapped in a dilemma
She wonders, if she can trust him, to place her treasure in his care,
to let him breath life back to it
or could this be the fatal blow,
the ultimate destruction of sanity

The kind innocent smile
radiating from across,
the plea for trust,
the gentle touch caressing her fingers,
produced the nutrients indispensable to her dying treasure 
slowly resurrecting it back

She felt the faint beat though it is still a long way from healing.

#putMeDownOnPaper.

KARMA..!

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You don’t know this woman,
You haven’t got a clue,
This paragon of beauty,
Is a mystery to you.

You think that I’m so gentle,
You think that I am tame,
That’s just to get you going,
And trap you in my game.

You think that I’m so giving,
You think that I am sweet,
But I’ve come to devour,
And you’re my tasty treat.

You are a man of steel now,
But you’ll melt under my gaze,
You’ll toss and turn in torment,
Eyes blurred in love sick daze.

You think you can withstand me,
I laugh at your demise,
Your body burns like kindling,
You’re scorched by smoldering eyes.

My hands are fierce and vicious,
I tear to reach the prize,
Then sear your flesh at will,
Press in to sturdy thighs.

My lips, they ravish your lips,
My mouth burns down your neck,
My tongue brands all your body,
Leaves you a melting wreck.

You cry out in your moment,
You clutch my hair, you sigh,
No ease in the momentum,
Till flaring flames run dry.

You pant in sheer delirium,
I speak the words you need,
I coax you to the heights now,
My wanton passion freed.

The world explodes around us,
Inside is molten fire,
I’ve rocked you to the heavens,
But I’ve sated MY desire.

And when the blaze is over,
I lick your sweat dewed face,
I smile the smile of triumph,
And leave without a trace.

#putMeDownOnPaper.

MANTRA

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He never touched me
never did anything
but He still strikes a fear in me
because He looked places He should never look
He said things He should never say
He went places He should never go
the fears are irrational
i tell myself
im crazy
i cry
a mantra i repeat in my head for hours
He would never hurt me
He would never hurt me
He would never hurt me
but still
im afraid
afraid that im wrong
and maybe He will 
so i cover myself in layers
sweaters undershirts scarves
protection from an imaginary monster
whos not so imaginary at all
measured words
and extra clothes
have become my life now
the constant fear
gnawing at my insides
eating my brain from the inside out
and its killing me
but He would never hurt me
He would never hurt me
He would never hurt me

#putMeDownOnPaper.

IF WALLS COULD TALK.

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If the walls could talk
What would they say?

Would they speak of 
Good and bad,
Happy and sad?

Would they speak of love
Both young and old, 
Secret or bold?

Would they sing the songs
That have flowed out of 
The hearts of many?
The songs that speak to many minds?

They would tell of 
Beauty in pain
Strength in struggles
Bravery in the face of danger

They would tell of 
Weakness in conflict 
Yet triumph in fear

They would speak of 
A million firsts
First word 
First love
First child

They would tell the story of life
The new beginning 
The long lived ending

The good and bad
The happy and sad
They would weave tales about it all

Wouldn’t we love to hear
The stories of life
If only walls could talk

#putMeDownOnPaper.