Will you keep me alive?

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  • ablaze_writer 7h

    Life is not easy to be someone's cup of tea or coffee it is constant to and fro between thousand different personalities, beginning new for billion times until all those beginnings just come to one end which we profoundly call

  • ablaze_writer 15h

    And if I were to go, will you still hold onto the threads of past promises and weave me a poem
    Full of somethings which none of them have seeked before, something which will be known as a surprise of love?

  • ablaze_writer 16h

    {Ghost's Daydreams}

    On some snowy night as the ghost of memories collide my dreams, will they be pleased to see grief, anger, guilt beautified in ways to make a wish?
    Will they witness murder of my innocent dreams?
    the one's I had when my fantasies were keen, now transformed into repressed scribbles of lives demanding to be noticed by the past, screaming to be heard in the form melancholia songs. The dream where everything is an illusion. You,me the time we shared together, the slippery fields of sunflower, the myriads of waves and sky reflecting back onto the tears fresh out of not so often fears.
    Sun comes up and brings back memories of good dreams.
    But I ask will the ghosts sing the melody of eternal death's daydreams?

  • ablaze_writer 1d

    We all try to escape something uncertain and inescapable/Death/Fear.

  • ablaze_writer 1d

    #eyes #pod #genuine_readers
    @mirakee @writersnetwork

    My eyes can't take onto this pleasure of being reposted by @writersnetwork. Thank you so much WN ��❤️
    And @piyuldwivedi what a pleasure to share this with you ��

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    / / /

    My eyes take onto the adventures of
    filling the infinite boundaries of ocean and sky,
    beautifully hazardous work of widening my horizon.

    For its been long since my eyes have avenged the good, now they seem to like the despair filled spells of moon recited in the poetry like a little boon.
    There was this wave of love 15 years ago
    comfortable and deep seemed to sustain for an eternity.

    But all that we see or seem
    Is but a dream within a dream,
    and when that dream shattered all that remained was a fury accompanied by ashes of hate and misogyny.
    Unable to think about what should I do with it
    I made them my muse, loved them and wrote poetry.

    And as it seems to be the end
    I want to rest and breathe silently again.
    For I have been tired and want to see myself
    from his dark eyes again and wonder
    What they would look like if he felt the same.

  • ablaze_writer 2d

    //Singing in the rain//

    The last time it rained this hard was when I heard the voice of slap against my mother delivered by father
    my legs trembled, voice stuck in throat spread through veins like a venom.
    As today this drops rattle the earth I remember their non existentialism similar to my mother's tears.
    Now I look at her resembling the bottled up river full of unshed tears.
    I want to sing a chorus of melancholy and sadness that how in the name of love people suffer caged into crucial chains and yet smile when it rains.
    I look at my father for it has never been same after that rain to talk to him about anything plain.
    He looks away maybe ashamed of the script they put in front of their children proving karma has its own way.
    I want to sing a melody of shame to explain how ruthless one behaves when they think they are of greater strength.
    I look at myself, for I am so weak that I ran away when my mother was sinking and screaming for help.
    We all speak less maybe it is our way of saying sorry for all past mistakes.
    And I want to sing an apology to myself for thinking I was strong that the world was wrong,
    while I shed my mother's unshed tears,
    When rain awakes my fears.

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    For whenever it rains
    my nightmares come back
    to hunt me again.

  • ablaze_writer 2d

    //Seeking love //

    And as I set off to another adventure
    I hope I'd find myself in one of the streets
    looking at beautiful sky colors
    for its been long I took out my binoculars
    and swept in the beauty of each stranger
    It's been long I captured
    stories their eyes hold and learnt
    about fear their voice chatters as to know
    What is it that I should seek?
    Should it be beauty of galaxy or
    Retardness of human body?
    Should it be color of someone's eyes or the
    Poetry their sadness weaves?
    The map is so big
    I wonder what I will find
    for this life is an adventure of hide and seek
    Where we hide demons of agony and loneliness
    to seek the melancholy of something called as love
    and as I set off to another adventure
    I hope I'd find myself looking at someone
    Who is wanderer in the form of home
    also seeking this feeling called love.

    #picturec #galaxies #genuine_readers
    @mirakee @writersnetwork @writersbay

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  • ablaze_writer 4d

    I like boundaries
    for how fine they can be separating existence of two things,just like lovers before confessing,
    Have you ever looked at the horizon into its infinity proclaiming to separate the sky and sea?
    Have you ever experienced twilight or dawn separating day from night ?
    Have you ever been in love so much that there was no line between obsession and passion?
    Have you ever wrote poetries at 2 am when the world is in deep slumber and you try to jot down your broken pieces into some beautiful verse?
    And lastly my favourite the lineage of eyes which set two worlds apart, a boundary between dream and reality where you are still with me hypothetically..

  • ablaze_writer 5d


  • ablaze_writer 1w

    Rant inspired from @silverglitters_

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    I have always been a coward, for not facing my worst nightmares and daydreams, for not even trying once to reach out to the stars and make them mine, for I have been weak and strong but I couldn't take any pride in, I have been mistaken and misunderstood about the mistakes I made, for I thought love was something of greater sacred strength, this is not about love this is about me for I have compared myself to infinite things right from the stardust to the illiterate writer who is sadistic
    I have wrote many poetries and waited for them to make it to the peak but now as my eyes adore this pleasure of great darkness in world I think it all is fine for I was stupid to think about validations and attention, for I have betrayed the true reason for my writer existence
    I wanted to write to know the peace, I guess I will leave you with this
    What are you filling your heart with?