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.

##

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.

##

Via daily prompt: degree

Existing moment of essence

Swirling voices,

Whispering, climbing helplessly

Onto never ending stairway of wisdom,

Yet fall off while intersecting

 with the looped gamut of emotions.

Oscillating within past and future,

What had happened,

And yet to happen.

But no traces of in between,

Where the thoughts are actually perceived,

The existing moment of essence,

What we call our today or present. 

Unexpected, but…

Unexpected, but true,

Getting old with a smell of new,

With every passing minutes and seconds,

Subtle, though the change for everything.

From a little rain,

To become a hurricane.

From the colossal woodland,

To become an arid land.

No connection,

When looked from a single point,

Just like an old and torn book,

With missing pages and unadorned look.

But lies a story in the hidden pieces

Of chain of events of subtle changes.

Unexpected, yet fair,

Unraveling the layers of truth,

One by one,

By gathering more guts.

Unexpected, but real,

Where dreams can give tears,

A dream that holds the heart,

Some with screams, some with laughs.

Unexpected, but unique and profound,

Thought process of every being found,

Inner sense of strength and power.

Vested in one and all.

##

Via daily prompt: static

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.

##

Via Daily prompt: Viable

 

 

What to say..

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.

##

Via daily prompt: loophole

A Missing understanding

Two mouths moving,

Yet saying nothing.

Two hands approaching,

Yet scared of touching.

Four eyes staring,

Holding the same canvas,

But depicting different etchings,

Giving rise to misguided feelings.

Whispers rise into gaping ears,

Echoes of inequitable and sense of withdrawal,

Full of ire leading to misjudgment,

Coercively proving each other wrong.

To feed their ego, to neglect their dispute,

They stop explaining and chose to be mute.

With conversations of half sentences,

They planted the seed of misunderstanding,

With the other half of their sentences,

Becoming the root of conflicts and antipathy.

Their chaotic silence of hatred,

Burgeoning the desperation

For distance and separation,

Based on the trivial assumptions.

But it is a simple complication,

Of their miscommunication.