#46 To my Lord...

The light that was leading me on,
Went out leaving me in the dark,
I looked up and found you,
Smiling down at me,
Like you were anticipating my arrival,
Your smile blinds me for a moment,
I'm stunned by the brilliance that you are,
Those eyes made of oceans,
Your mane like the dense forest,
I'm lost in you, slowly fading into the void,
You hold out your hand and I reach for it,
A touch is all it takes,
I stand enthralled taking it all in,
You lead me to a garden of roses,
The flowers in bloom are no match to you,
The fragrance they emit holds no significance to me,
I look at your hand, in which you hold the world,
The very hand that's touching me now,
I fall to my knees,
Humbled by the affection you have shown,
Shaken by the feeling of being loved by you,
My love for you grows by the day, minute and second,
And you smile a knowing smile,
What are words for when you read me so well,
I bow before you with a promise then,
Of never letting another soul above you,
You have and you shall always have my heart,
And my Lord, you shall always be the one I love.

#44 You...

I was seeing red;
Choking on the stale air.
You came in like a gust of breeze;
I breathed you in,
You filled me with the scent of a thousand roses.

I was imagining things;
Growing afraid of the dark.
You came in with a bright smile;
I let you shine upon me,
You brought with you a ray of hope.

I was burning love;
In hope of keeping warm.
You came in like the sun;
I let you warm me up,
You built in my heart a castle of love.

I was weeding out hurt;
And sowing seeds of faith.
You came in like a rain cloud;
I let you rain on me,
You helped the seeds I had sown bloom.

Months later, here we stand;
Reminiscing the moments since.
I let you in and you stayed;
And since then it's been you,
You... You... You.

#43 Rantings of a bookahilic.

I discovered my passion for reading quite late in life. I was almost eighteen by the time I realised I was obsessed with books, and that, compared to most people I know, is pretty late. I see kids, my nephews for example, get engrossed in books the way I do now and I wonder why I wasted a good deal of my childhood doing what I did instead of just plunging into books. I wish someone had helped me find a good book back when I was little and paved the way for me. Don't get me wrong, I've been a reader all my life. I was a regular at my school library where I borrowed and returned books, after reading them of course, at quite an extraordinary pace. But I wasn't obsessed with stories. I didn't read like people breathe; the way I do now. Reading was a hobby, not an obsession; the way it is now.

My parents, though normally they're pretty cool about my obsessive reading habits, do get worked up if they see me concentrating on a novel instead of textbooks. I don't miss a beat before reminding them that, of all the things kids are choosing to get addicted to, they should be proud of me for choosing books. And it really helps. Mostly.

It has come to a point where I can't survive a day without reading at least a few pages. If I don't find a book, I read scraps of newspaper, or literally anything that offers words and stories (I never pick up a textbook during these times, though. It never comes to that.)

Reading is probably the easiest way of enhancing one's vocabulary. And what's more, it's fun to learn like that. So, read. Read like you're born to read. Read like there's no tomorrow. Read, and love reading.

#42 Excerpt from my life.

Have you ever had a friend you'd spent ages trying to befriend? The kind of person who made you wonder what they saw in you to let you get so close, when they did. The kind of person who's so sweet, that everyone loves them but you know love isn't enough for them, that they deserve much more. Yet they keep you around, you can only wonder why. But you know you like them a tad bit more because of it.
The kind of person who brightens up your day with the lamest possible message, and, not to admit to them, leaves a smile on your face for a long time. Who you fight with, who you have such sweet memories with, who contradicts you on everything you believed in, who teaches you so much, who is very easy to be taken granted for but you know never to, who reminds of your shortcomings just for the pleasure of it, who has the weirdest nicknames for you that you find endearing... I could go on and on.

But have you had this kind of person in your life and lost them? Because you were too prude to accept the fact that just because your world revolves around them, doesn't mean theirs has to. I did. Lose that person, that is.

I spent months thinking I was better without them, that I didn't need the person anymore, that I had other friends. But I always knew in the back of my mind that the person who I thought I didn't need was the one I needed the most. The difficult days that followed would've been easier with them, had they been a round to make me understand the situation. But who was to blame for their absence? Yours, truly.

Who'd have known a small message was all it took to bring them back? One message, and everything fell right back into place. The smiles, the happy vibes, the friendly accusations - it was worth letting go of my pride for.

Maybe it was the act of falling apart that showed me what it meant to have them around. Maybe we needed that (I surely did) to realize what we had is special and not worth letting go of. So here's to you, darling. For a friendship worth more than the stars. Thank you for everything, especially for letting me be myself and never judging me. (:

#41 All at once.

She sat dejected in the little booth by the window,
The restaurant was empty and her eyes filled up at how,
She was disillusioned, thinking their love would last forever,
She felt hatred about how he had left her heart to freeze.

Rain drops began splattering on the pane, she looked on,
Dejected; she felt like the world had come to an abrupt halt,
Like the rain had a secret to tell her, they beckoned at her,
But her love for it, like for everything else, had receded.

She sat staring at the tired scrawls she made on the page,
Wanting to write a song for him, she had ended up there,
Time sped away, but the page stayed almost empty,
Like her heart, her mind blocked everything about him.

They had said it would get better with time; they lied,
For it had been years and she still needed him the same,
He was the sun to her solar system, the moon to her night sky,
He was still the gentle breeze to the summer evening of a life,
He was still her love, her world, her life; all at once.


Written for the prompt 99 - A week for writing.
https://aprompteachday.wordpress.com/2016/03/01/prompt-99-wordle/

#40 The last memory

I stood there, watching him walk away from me,
I held my hand out, in hope of holding on to him,
A hand, a sleeve; something of his I was wishing for,
Instead I was left alone, grabbing at plain air.

I stepped slowly into the footsteps he had left behind,
The very sand he had set foot on, touching me now,
From a hundred steps away I heard his voice again,
Talking to a stranger like what happened was nothing.

My heart kept breaking into even smaller pieces,
I kept wishing for him to come help me pick them up,
But he was long gone, and so were his footsteps,
I guess the sea now hated him as much as I did.

I dropped to the ground then and broke down,
And wrote our names in the sand for the last time.
As the waves took over our names, erasing them,
I made up my mind to let his memories fade away.




Written for the prompt 98 -  A week for writing.

https://aprompteachday.wordpress.com/2016/02/23/prompt-98-picture-prompt/

#39 Blindfolds.

I looked at those very eyes I had sworn my love to,
The ones I had thought I was born to fall for,
And remembered how when I laughed in the dark,
They had once upon a time, outshone the stars.

I looked at those eyes I once couldn't look away from,
The ones that followed me even amidst a crowd,
And remembered how when I had sat up crying at night,
They had once upon a time, tried to heal my wounds.

I looked at those eyes that had pulled me in for a fall,
The ones that had looked at me as if I were a mural,
And remembered how when I started fading in the edges,
They had once upon a time, tried to paint me in red again.

I looked at those eyes that had once filled my senses,
The ones that I had spent ages trying to not forget,
And remembered how when I had finally given up on love,
They had once upon a time, looked away in sheer disgust.

I looked at those eyes, after so many years today,
The ones I had spent a lifetime searching for,
But I turned away, as soon as they met my gaze
As I remembered how when they had turned away from me,
They had forgotten to mirror the remorse etched in mine.