light

I killed my shadow

 

i killed my shadow

I killed my shadow
On a silent afternoon infused with a copper hue
I refused to surrender

With arms stretched under the scorching sun
I let in waves of heat inside my being
Until they reached down my soul

My shadow was no more…

Then night came playing its Cimmerian tune
Darkness stretching its arms everywhere
Like lovers reigning in their blissful content

But I saw the path every night
As I walked through the valley of shadow and death
That black I killed led me

Now the Dark of me brimmed with light
My shadow shimmered like gold
And showed me the way

I refused to surrender….

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Poetic Truths (Repost)

poetic truths

For it’s a strange thing that
we are able to weave the web of true poetry
only when sadness reigns the heart

Like that mystery ingredient
which adds flavor and finesse
to the gourmet of feelings expressed in words

Why happiness is seldom the reason to
elevate our words, lifting them at heights
unprecedented

Majority of poets are born
not out of curiosity, ambition or fascination
but out of necessity

Needs to fill up empty voids with words
voids acting up like black holes
in the cosmos of one’s emotions

It’s a reassurance to one’s self
almost a last resort against
blitzkrieg of the senses

A major part of life is spent in searching the
joys of heart so when at hand
we try our best living those moments

Songs are often born by the mating of
euphoria and glee as the words
get the baptism of contentedness

People relate more to sadness
so tragic poetry seems like a soothing light
at the end of the tunnel

 

Its just a feeling of mine that words come out more strongly when your heart is sad.

Blitzkrieg = An intense military campaign intended to bring about a swift victory.

Poetic Truths

poetic truths

For it’s a strange thing that
we are able to weave the web of true poetry
only when sadness reigns the heart

Like that mystery ingredient
which adds flavor and finesse
to the gourmet of feelings expressed in words

Why happiness is seldom the reason to
elevate our words, lifting them at heights
unprecedented

Majority of poets are born
not out of curiosity, ambition or fascination
but out of necessity

Needs to fill up empty voids with words
voids acting up like black holes
in the cosmos of one’s emotions

It’s a reassurance to one’s self
almost a last resort against
blitzkrieg of the senses

A major part of life is spent in searching the
joys of heart so when at hand
we try our best living those moments

Songs are often born by the mating of
euphoria and glee as the words
get the baptism of contentedness

People relate more to sadness
so tragic poetry seems like a soothing light
at the end of the tunnel

 

Its just a feeling of mine that words come out more strongly when your heart is sad.

Blitzkrieg = An intense military campaign intended to bring about a swift victory.

Owl

Owl

Slowly I opened my eyes

But the night has

Gone by

Seems like a vivid

Dream

Had everything so

Clear in it

The colors seemed

So bright

Engulfed by its

Clarity I flew

Flew like a free

Spirit

Free with a glee in

My heart

But now…

My night is over

The colors are gone

I sit alone

Welcoming the light

Of the day

Which hurts my eyes

And breaks my

Heart

                                                               25 Feb, 2013, 3:29 am