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Posts Tagged ‘loneliness’

She waited all the night for one voice,
But no one knocked at the door of loneliness.
A prayer slipped from her eyes with a tear,
And fell down on the floor of loneliness.

She searched for one dream in her palms,
And looked at the sky in wonder.
She counted the days on her fingers,
And marked a circle on the calendar.

She walked to the corner of her room,
And then sketched a rose with the chalk.
She stared at it with the silent lips,
And wished if these walls could talk.

Dark, cosmic, stunning – but all blank,
She gazed at her eyes in the mirror.
The dismay blurred her vision like a fog,
Then at once, everything became clearer.

She wrote a few words on her scarf,
Hugged gently and threw it out of the window.
Her poem flew with the wind to the horizon,
And next day, appeared in the form of rainbow.

(- Writer: Nay Af/Autumn Green)

Image

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Love can be deceiving sometimes.
It hurts, it aches, and it breaks.
But everything seems fine, If you put dust on.
To act clever.
But Caution!
A wind of regrets can blow all the dust away,
Leaving us lonelier than ever.

Love is blind;
Works over any expectation,
And even beyond.
What we really want at our hearts,
Is not really what our eyes see.

I learned this lesson,
before closing the last window,
When I promised myself,
Of “Sublimation”.

(Poor me.)

I asked myself,
To try to stay like that,
No matter what life throws at me.

At that moment, I thought,
Love has other reasons that reason has not.
Loneliness cuts us away from the people.
We always tend to take them as strangers to ourselves,
And world turns a pity to live in,
This tragedy remains the same,
No matter what corner of the universe we dwell.

I learned,
No one likes to die alone,
And we have that power,
Not to let ourselves to slide in a pit of despair.

Before closing the last window, I reckoned,
There is no peace for the human soul,
But to love and being loved.
I thought,
It’s a right time for me to move on,
And not to look back over my shoulders.

Before closing the last window, I learned,
Love, happiness and liberation are within us,
Not in the one, we want with us.

I thought, It’s hard to reach an inner balance.
And if is in cards to stay alone,
That would be,
(But don’t give up hoping.)

I decided not to deduce any meaning from anything,
As sometimes, demons seem more faithful than angels.
Sometimes, life is like that,
People close to us,
Don’t realise our need for more closeness.
They only feel stuffed.

Before closing the last window, I recalled,
Once she said that I had a tender heart;
So gentle and caring,
Big enough to forgive her on not loving me.
And forget her for a new start.

I smiled with salty eyes,
(Is this the way, I want her to remember me?)

Well, may be, because once I was a poet.

Was?
Yes, was!

Since, then l lost my capacity of abstraction,
When I accepted that,
No one comes back in love.
They lie, they cheat, and they deceive,
But they don’t come back.
I learned this lesson,
and closed the last window.

Then I realised,
The more we become misanthropes, the more we need the others to heal our souls.

And a moment before it,
I promised myself, Of “Sublimation”.

(Poor me.)

(- Writer: Nay Af/Autumn Green.
Special thanks to my blogger friend Gaby Pretorian – USA with hugs and smiles)

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Night passed away.
Morning bloomed like flowers in the garden,
I waited long for this day,
But the sun didn’t rise.
I kept holding all the words on the broken edges of my lips,
But no truth emerged from the ashes of my lies.
(My own lies; only for me, and all by myself)

Standing at the corner of the corridor,
I glanced at the fountain.
(Fountain of hope, surrounded by the youthful trees of dreams)
Water was projecting up and falling down,
On the deserted land of great expectations.
I found a shadow, standing under one of the trees.
(Someone, with long hairs, dressed in brown)
I tried to delight my eyes by her face,
But there was much fog.
And I felt like a blind.

I looked at the sky.
It seemed all clean but yet unclear.
Dark light struck my eyes,
Without bringing any vision.
I wished, wished and wished,
But the sun didn’t rise.

The shadow vanished in thick air, like smoke.
My spectacles got blurred by the layers of salty mist.
Lost sunshine was mourning deep in my soul.
Passing moments were marking sorrowful ticks at my wrist.

Lines of my palms were all baffled.
Freezing air brushed my coat,
And I shivered,
My heart turned faint and suffered a crack.
I held my shoulders with my own arms and stepped back.
(Stepped back to the same imprisonment of the solitude)

That night, not only my eyes were wet,
But lines of my palms also wrote a fable of tears and regret.
That night, trees cast the burning shadows,
And fountain remained dry.
That night, I kept sitting on the lonely bench,
Escorted by my sobbing cry.
And no one wiped my tears,
Those moments were all about vacuum and fears.

That night, I kept missing you,
But your face was not for my eyes.
I was left with total eclipse.
That night, the sun didn’t rise.

(- Writer: Nay Af/Autumn Green)

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Disclaimer: This is not, by any mean, written to glorify the act of suicide or provoke others to commit it. I believe in LOVE and LIFE.


At every corner of my room, there are choices.
Some choices are positive, while some are negative.
Positive or Negative?
Who can define what is positive and what is negative?
Positive for me can be negative for you.
Everything is relative.

I live in my room,
This is not just a solitary confinement,
It’s my universe as well.
My universe,
Only for me.
However, you are allowed to enter in.
But only when my time is up!

There are 4 walls in my room;
One floor and a ceiling.
At every corner, there are choices,
Choices to be made.
I have closed my window,
Closed and locked,
Forever!
Everything is getting blurred and fade.
Can you wipe out my tears?
(Perhaps – never)
Optimism and hopes are illusions.
Don’t recite holy verses to misadvise me.
Let me die with my delusions.
I have listened my inner voice,
Suicide is not a crime.
It’s also an option – a choice.
May be a negative choice for you,
But negative for you might be positive for someone else.
Who knows?

Before the spider weaves her web in my broken cup,
Would you step in my room?
My time is up.

(- Writer: Nay Af/Autumn Green)


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