The Wish

I work with the stones and sand,
And let my son build castles with his hand,
I work with bricks and shovel,
While he creates stories of Kings and Queens from his own imaginative novel,
As I carry heavy baskets of bricks,
He makes up songs and cheerfully sings,
For he knows his castles, stories, and songs,
Drives away my thoughts of sadness from the chaos,
For he knows, his smile is my smile,
His pain is my pain,
His happiness is my happiness.
He weaves stories like a true poet,
Falls for the beauty of Nature like it was fate,
And I, wish for him, the strength when the hardships reveal,
I wish for his lingering laughter,
Even when he is seven seas away,
And I, wish upon the first rays of the Sun,
As a million stars may have wishes of the million,
But, it’s the first rays of the Sun,
That touches the first dew of the morning mist,
That’s where the magic is grown from the seed.
 
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Silver Linin’

‘Silver Linin”

The same road,
We used to walk together,
Is haunted by sweet memories,
As I walk alone;

The shadows of the lonely trees,
Give me a sweet company,
As the rays of the mighty Sun mock my tears,
As I walk alone;

Maybe,
Maybe, it’s for the better,
Sometimes, sweet solitude,
Must be born from bitter loneliness,
To appreciate happiness,
One must go through pain,
My thoughts welcome a new visitor,
The clouds of Silver linin’,
Finally, bringing along a smile within me,
Accepting the painful past,
Welcoming a fascinating future,
Enjoying the pleasant present,
As I walk.

The Past

The past is never black and white,
With colours unimaginable, it is a beautiful sight,
The past, sometimes maybe painful,
But for many, the lessons are insightful,
The past has gruesome power to make one smile or even cry,
With missed moments, all we can do is sigh;
The past is never really complicated,
Nor is it confusing,
It is but a beautiful confession,
Of words left unsaid,
Of memories of lost love and the dead;
The past is never black,
Nor is it white.

Always

Unconditional love is what I know,
Maybe that’s why I am caged,
For unconditional love is dangerous,
As is a broken heart;

I do wish,
My freedom was seen as like that of yours,
My rights,
My life;

I am their to protect you,
I will lay down my life for you,
The words spoken by your lovers,
Are nothing as I will die protecting you,
Loving you,
And I will always wait for you,
Always.

The Walls Have Ears

The walls of concrete,
Hides the voices of anger,
Sadness,
Love,
And pain;

They say walls have ears,
Maybe that’s why they are keepers of secrets,
The best of all listeners,
Standing still and devouring the words,
Stained with tears and maybe blood,
Painted over by the happy colours,
Decorated by the frames of happy faces,
And the forgotten paintings of old houses;

No one takes a glimpse of it,
Unless it has a face, a disclosure,
Frames, paintings, and mirrors,
The walls of concrete,
Hides the voices of anger,
Sadness,
Pain,
And love.

The Tears of Shakespeare

Her smile rests like the elegant ship on a calm ocean,
Her laughter lingers around the broken pieces of her heart,
A band-aid, 
Not strong enough to ease the excruciating pain,
Her tears are told to be silent,
What remains of her broken heart is told to be strong,
For it is not the moment,
She is still sailing through the calm ocean,
Where the voyagers put their white flag up,
Where the world is reflection of what should be,
Rather than what it is;
She will wait for the moment,
When there’s no soul nearby,
To let the elegant ship of a smile crumble into a cry,
To float among the thundering night sky, 
As her precious tears fall,
The pieces of her heart,
Merges with the theatrical storm,
Even her shadows cannot stand such agony,
Such is her story,
Even Shakespeare would cry.

The Road Begins Here

The road ends here,
For her heart has been taken over by fear,
Will she choose to stay,
And have some heart-wrenching words to say?
Will she choose to keep moving,
And have happy words to sing?

The road begins here,
Another broken piece of her heart she needs to take care,
For she is as fragile as a bird with a broken wing,
She will be the bird who decides to sing,
Despite her broken wing.
The road begins here.