My Stability!

I knew not the word Stability,

If I had in me this Ability.

Until I met you,

The one among the few.

You taught me to live,

With mirth & adventure,

And flaws to forgive.

You taught me life comprises of moments,

And how to keep up with opponents.

The freedom in expression,

To be myself, without thinking of transgression.

The only constant planet of my galaxy,

I love you with all modesty.

CreatingPriyanka!

Image Courtesy: Google

Living the Beauty!

We live a beauty everyday,

In spite of tragedies; life has so much more anyway.

Closing eyes towards the less,

Ignoring all the mess,

Light gives way to every darkness.

Every moment is to be ceased,

Tomorrow will bring a new sun in the east.

Creating Priyanka!

Image Courtesy: Google

Copying the Life of Norman

“Copying Norman,

Run down by the emotional van,

I feel nothing more than a empty can.”

Coming down from the office and sitting long in that closed cabinet, I keep staring at the 22 inches computer for hours, and keep googling how life can be interesting. It is the same activity I do mindlessly every other day. Booting the computer, listening to those long boring hum of the keyboard typing, and then passing heavy sighs. The trite is that I am sometimes declared to be nuts, when I try explaining things in my own way. I am wondering whether I have become an empty can, every one wants to kick.

I wish I were a book, to be passed on to different people and to which people become thoughtful towards after reading. It’s like I am copying the life of Norman, where the regularity is killing my creativity. Someone told me lately, that it’s very difficult to work within boundaries. I feel the odd gets cleaned up from within my system and I start feeling light. The psychology is pathetic, just like a time bomb ticking away, and is about to go BOOM”. I need a bomb disposal squad to stop it from bombing. Any suggestions anyone?

Heavenly Abode Lost

The restless weather curses me,
Why not fly back to your nest thee;
There where you always belonged,
Where thy heart longed.

The Lady waiting on the streets in those eager evenings,

Those roads are lost in the new beginnings.

Why then thy soul cries to return home,

The heavenly abode, my last dome.

The restless weather curses me,
Why not fly back to your nest thee;
There where you always belonged,
Where thy heart longed.

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