Last Updated on October 11, 2021 by Sangita Ekka
The breeze is cold; hushing through the hair, whispering secrets to a denying heart. But secrets are meant to be true! A bitter truth is like a sword stabbed right across the heart. No escape!! And death is never an option. Left just with gaze to the infinite and a strong desire of abscondment till eternity… But the horizon is lost in its own black and very few scattered stars remind its existence. It has lost the tincture of melted sun. Red it was; blushed with beauty and love! But perhaps it will rain today; it has a hint of red, wounded enough to bleed…
A woman is a soul of mystery, sometimes to herself as well. She can take the pain of an entire ocean yet not shed a tear. She can be a need for a hundred souls, an inspiration to the fallen and shoulder to the broken. She can become everything one needs her to be. But sometimes she’s just her; dreamer like a child and winged like a free bird; trying to let go everything; dying to be alone…
It’s a silent night, but I can still hear the raindrops patting my window. Cold as they are; dying to flow down the panes, touch my warm feet and wake me from the dream I so much wish to cherish before I sleep forever. Happiness dwells in closed eyes. So does peace. The heavy ones lift to see the emptiness, hear the silence and solicit the soul by grieving loneliness. It’s a silent night, but I can still hear the call of my tears. Warm as they are; dying to roll down the face, touch my cold skin and lull me to the dream I so much wish to cherish before I wake again…
Originally posted on Blogger on Jan 19, 2012