Whisper of hope

I heard faint whispers,

Whispers of hope, even in the dark,

But, accompanied by dim light of the stars.

Whispers of my unknown name,

Lingered in my ears,

Soothing and delicate,

Like I have known them for years.

Casting shapes in the clouds,

Only I can figure out from the ground.

This whisper of hope,

though faint and dim,

Glide flawless with the wind,

Collecting all my strengths

Beyond infinity.

This whisper of hope,

Digging dreams from my depth,

Taking them to my consciousness.

It let my calmness to grow,

Rhythm of my song to flow.

But I am the amplifier

Of this faint whisper,

Whisper of hope.

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Via daily prompt: faint

A twisted philosophy

The latent veiled threat
of rationality,
Of balanced impartial philosophy,
Rise due to emotion,
When there is no sufficient reasons.
Where the heart drains the brain,
Or the brain ceases to react.
Where the alternatives are the only choice,
Where the irrationality is the only logic,
This is where the humans survive.
This is where the personage evolve.
With the naked half truth,
The delusion of significance.
The belief on the eyes,
About everything as black and white.

But it’s not so dear,

It’s not always zero or one,
It’s a string of half or fractions,
Be it rational or being unreasonable,
But the life of every individual,
It’s just a half baked fiction.
Where a word has disparate meanings,
In each subsequent paragraph.
Nothing to deduce,
Nothing to conclude,
It just goes on
With new yet twisted view.

First and second degree of act..

First act,

Always intriguing and exciting,

With blurry days fleeting and rolling,

Of half memories with no faces.

But the second act,

that’s where the depth comes in.

The subtle yet profound

Meaning of everything.

Some associations of ordinary things,

With contentment in daily life.

Some amusement with trivial segments,

Shifting the mood from blue to pleasant.

The first act,

Being amateur and naive,

Goes on and on

without prior warning.

With no red lights to stop,

And no green to go.

Still, some get lucky,

While some get real bumpy.

But the second act,

If wired shrewdly,

Will become the cause of felicity.

The first act,

Though easiest to plot,

Is an ephemeral drill,

With lots of void to fill.

The second one,

Though hard to design,

Will tell you the right papers to sign.

So enjoy both the degree

Of first and second act of life,

With courage and dignity.

Learn from the intriguing first,

To make the second one best.

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Via daily prompt: degree

The cosmic stardust 🌟

Lost between some unknown stars,

And an eclipsed moon,not so far.

There I am, wondering to unravel,

Trying to apprehend,

The mystery of the unexplained,

The riddle of my strange presence.

Is that me, 

the unknown in the known galaxy,

Or a normal being of earth,

but in a foreign universe.

Where the air can talk,

Whisper with my songs,

But changes the chorus,

To suite their consonance.

The eclipsed moon,

And the cosmic stardust,

Hypnotize my wisdom, 

To make me their perpetual member.

With no sign of feelings,

Whether bitter or pleasure,

Angry or comfort,

This might be a world of neutral zone.

A sense of repose

Even in the turbulent air,

A touch of imperforate,

Even when no one is there. 

Struggling in the dream

And again it happened,

The backwash of my uncooked rumination,

Become the cause of 

my half baked dream impression.

Neither be it utterly forgotten,

Nor completely remembered.

Blurred figure of my blue eyes,

Blinking with weight

Of death of the inner life.

Surrounded by some evil creatures,

With the sound of their evil snicker.

With no faces and no identity,

But filled with immoral laugh at my agony.

A part of lost yet familiar melody,

The rhythm of some lost harmony,

Trying to bud out,

But dies within their diabolic shout.

Who are these critters,

Why are their laugh so iniquitous?

Why my eyes are bereaved,

Why my reflection started to deceive?

Why can’t my dreams be stitched?

Why do they fall away like November leaves?

Why are they scattered so wide,

Where do their fragments hide?

My partly remembered and forgotten dreams,

Imprinted the sense of deep torment,

Though this is just an imaginary pain.

My conscious is still struggling,

Within my subconscious being.

My eyes are still seeking,

The piece of my forgotten dreams,

In the Echoes of empty circle

Embedded in my asleep being.

Virtue of love

Love outlives beyond the life,

Brings heavenly blaze of every kind.

Love is faithful and true,

Possessing the viridity of morning dew,

Vastness in eyes like an utter ocean blue.

It prevails above the materialistic life,

Igniting the spark of strength in soul and mind.

Doesn’t matters being one sided or both,

Love has its power to speak, without any word.

Love isn’t practical, it might be irrational,

But it’s a promise, a true souvenir.

It’s never forgotten, it’s never disappear,

With time, it builds its own composure.

Feeling of love,

Neither silent, nor so loud,

It’s a subtle game of lost and found.

Some find their world in love,

While some lost their existence for love.

Love isn’t something that fades away,

It shows its appearances in disparate ways,

Shocking, yet appealing,

With no idea of what’s next coming.

Love isn’t meant to be concealed,

It’s a remedy that everyone needs.

An example of perfect masterpiece,

Love is the medium of find the unseen link,

It’s the sustenance for every living being.

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Via Daily prompt: Viable

love-806375_640

 

 

Rambled words…

A zig zag, 

A cross cross,

Entwined end,

Of a paradoxical begin.

When to stop,

When to start,

A forward loop,

Moving backwards,

Or vice versa

For every drama.

One step closer,

To the edge of insanity,

One level deeper,

To the existence of uncertainty.

No escape from this mundane maze,

Of concotion of elation and pain.

Assessing every cheat code,

For easing the way out from the deadlocks.

It’s a never ending repetition,

Commencement of the same sessions.

Task after tasks,

Where luck can hardly pass.

These are just 

My rambled words,

With no real content,

As there’s a loophole,

In perception of different thoughts.

Where meaning is ineffectual

Yet futile can be so crucial.

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Via daily prompt: loophole

What I meant was…..

“Listen me first, what I meant was……”, after a long pause, “what I want to say is, you know what I mean….”, Again a long pause. A pause where your words starts to betray you, where they begin to play hide and seek with your tongue, a pause where your mind goes through hard time aligning with your uttered words. That beep sound in your head just slit the wound in your throat, and you are just dazed with your own words.

Did that ever happen to you, where you tries to put it into simpler words but it gets convoluted and hence problematic?

Those annoying interruptions are so onerous to conceal, which makes you the person in guilt, because you are not defending yourself. A general perception, no explanation and you are censured.

 Can it be other way round? Maybe the person is having hard time to defend because he knows there is no one to understand him. Maybe he knows there are no words which can explain his situation at the right time and in the right amount. Oh wait, there is a third option too. He don’t know how to defend himself without hurting the person who asks the question because he cares for him. And that’s when all the sentences finishes with, “don’t take me wrong, what I meant was…….”, and then comes a long pause again. The more the pause, the more your explanation is taken as a mere lie.

Undulate, yeah that’s the suitable word to explain this situation. At one point, you are all ready with your explanation, but the next moment, you forget all the relevant words, leaving just the fillers of your line which do not make any sense together. It’s like listening to your beautiful song and can appreciate the lyrics which is telling you the whole story of your life, where every words just makes sense and align with your thinking, and BAM! something happened and you just lost the essence of your favorite song, unadorned words with no meaning.

So, sometimes, it’s hard to find the exact words to express what we really mean, to speak what we actually want to tell. 

An undulating war of heart, mind and words. 

The repeated pause and onset of every uttered word

The conflict of intuitions in regard to outcomes.

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Via daily prompt: undulate