Circle of Race

Circle of Race

Circle of Race

I Smile loudly
Inside of me
In every
Beautiful twilight
Born with Enthusiasm

Every sunset that
Steals a portion of our
Breath Calms my fears

In-circles
We are perfectly
Racing against own shadows

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Shadows of Love

Shadows of Love

Our Shadows
Have become stronger
Than our real-selves
Our silence has been
Filled with questions
Our answers have been
Poured out from inner
Heart filled with emptiness
Our crave has been devoid of Love
We now live in the emptiness of nothing

 

 

Image adapted from Snapa.com

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Strong Love

Strong love

The tide of time may rise like a river
Hope may sink hastily like a ferry
No matter how strong the surges of hate
Rises to the brim of my heart
That surging thunderous waves
Can’t sweep you away from inside of me
It Won’t conquer the strong city of love
You have built inside my heart for ages

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I will Stand Strong

I shall stand strong

I shall stand strong

The tide of time may rise like a river
Hope may sink hastily like a ferry boat filled water
No matter how the surges of hate rise to the brim of my heart
The surging thunderous waves can’t sweep away your feeling in me
It won’t conquer the love of you that dwell inside the stream of my blood
Neither could a fall from the height phobia explode a bomb of despair that tick-tocks

 

Image adapted from https://pablo.buffer.com

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When I fell in Love with you

When I fell in Love

When I fell in Love with you

I remember the days of old
When we were tender young in age
When everybody was natural and true
When We wore blue and white to school
When Love was silent and speak no word
When feelings were hidden and never expressed
When the sun was shining but not biting hard
That was the time, I fell in love with you.

 

Image was adapted from https://pablo.buffer.com

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I Need A Rest

This is a special poem for women of all types suffering from all kinds of violence in their relationship. It is always difficult withstanding a long-time mental torture; sometimes taking a meaningful lasting decision seems to be the hardest thing to do especially when you are truly in love. The question is ‘whether love supposes to endure abuses and emotional manipulations’?

I need a rest

I need a rest

I kept up with what it seems
I was called to face and endure
Walked through the doors of hope
With excitement written all over my body
In every rising morning of a brand new day

Behold I hop-out
Through the back window
As evening of the day falls into
Deafening Silence of darkness with
A scary scar of a map drawn all over
My flawless skin, conspicuously enough
For the grand children yet unborn to see

What has kept traces of air bubbling inside
The weakened lung of mine is mother’s consolatory
Breathe of pains that taught me ‘Love endureth all things’

Though, have fallen more than once
Bitten more than twice but never shine eyes since
The dignity of a womanhood has become the man by her side
Is this pain a birthright to endure as long as I choose to live?

Or is it a journey that I have a choice?
A choice to end the misery and torture
That fills every space of my body and soul
Could it be a better choice to end the mockery
The laughter that has becomes thicker in my ears
As the gory life plays on and on without end?

Which choice is better to give this soul a rest it hunger’s for
Is it by hanging or poisoning that will be painfully painless
To that already busted soul crushed and stamped on the soil?

I hear you murmur to the spirit of my ear
That hell fire is roaring like a lion and
Flaring red tongue high in its deep throat
To roast the filthy soul of mine for eternity
If I painless rest my soul in peace it deserves
This has risen the tempo of pains for my dying soul
That is rooted in an emotional imbroglio of a choice

To die or to live in torture?
To be bruised, shamed and traumatized
To be roasted for eternity by the flaring tongue of hell
Which one is best suited for this dying soul of mine?

 

Image is adapted from www.snappa.com

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The worrisome of the heart

The Worrisome of the heart

The Worrisome of the heart

The worrisome of the heart
Tricked by fear and doubt
Days of sobbing eyes to sleep
Days spent wringing-out pains
From in-depth of the heart
Days on the whining of regrets
All are the wasted days of life
Nothing looks worst than a gold
Dug from the miry clay of mines
But with a little touch of caress of care
It shines brighter to disbelief of eyes

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