Many asks her why she loves him even though the world has printed his name on the first few pages of a book called H A T E , binded with fingers pointing out accusations and covered with anger filled misspelt words ?
We all have watched and felt a mother's ardour , the epitome of L O V E . Her child might be an indecent boy carrying hints of tantrums in a naughty pair of eyes or he might be the most brilliant minded 12 year old among his peers . But throughout the journey from the extreme worst to the extreme best , joined together by a bridge called J U D G E M E N T S , the love of his mother stays the same , unfathomable always .
One day , if her child , the once 12 year indecent or brilliant boy , manages to procure all his once childish and hopeful eyes had dreamt for under a starry night , even though many will join hands to rejoice in his accomplishments , a hint of pride in their gazes as they look at him , there will be some , atleast a single person who will bicker with everything . Watch him keep his sanity aside and dig out every possible reason that will normalise it when he shakes his head no at the child's triumph , even if it means getting a pair of soil matted dirty hands in return .
But does this beginning of disagreements and enmity makes the adoration of the mother stumble and falter as she crosses the bridge ?
N O !
Because she has it written in her every soothing touch as she pats her son , sleeping on her lap , that even if her child has countless reasons why he should be loathed , all taped on his body , cutting through his skin , her own rationale to willingly pour down the gallons of fondness on his paper cuts , stands out of all .
ISN'T THAT HOW LOVE WORKS ?
Your single reason to fall for someone , foreshadows all the thousand reasons to hate them .
Something is always so exquisite about cities at night . You might roam around the various places of visits it offers to you during the sunlit days and gladly let yourself taken away with the vibrant hues of its street shops .
But at night , as the city lights join hands with the moonbeams to lighten up the paths of the city dwellers and pedestrians , you feel like with every step you take deeper into the heart of the city , your heartbeats get a bit faster , an octave louder .
You realise how full of life a place can be , even though it itself is devoid of a beating heart .
Those two eyes sparkled like the finest whiskey , filled inside the orbs , perfectly placed on the moon face . They looked so intense , gossiping with the sky , as the stars glittered above , whispering to each other , how moments with her were just like getting drunk on the most unexpected days . A wish to be reflected in those untainted pools of dripping honey , burning furiously in their hearts .
As the iris widened at the beauty of the galaxy , shimmering to its fullest when the streetlights had died down , the desire to be near smoulderd away even the most brightest star and it fell down , with a hope to be a bit closer to its love .
Hand in hand , when two lovebirds proclaimed their ardour for each other under what the foolish world still called a "shooting star" , the lone pair of brown eyes quietly chuckled and the two drops of tears met the lips , celebrating the moment of fascination .
The heart was amazed how the star had breathed its last only to keep those eyes in its last prayer .
A heartiest thank you for this awesome challenge . @say_me_krish This is the team YOUNG FOREVER .
We tried to portray the glimpse of the life of five girls here . They represent our own life , interests and struggles along with our IMAGINATION . Our names in these are the cores of our souls . We're different and unique , yet the same by heart . Our humble message through this work is to encourage to you to find your true self and pursue your passion against all odds . We hope you enjoy this and have a great time !
N E F E L I B A T A : ( Portuguese ) Cloudwalker , Daydreamer A creative person who lives in the clouds of her own imaginations or dreams . An eccentric , unorthodox person , who doesn't abide by the rules of the society , literature , or art .
NEFELIBATA : TALES OF PASSION - I
| The Sorcerer |
Two doors open , but I need to chose only one door to walk through. One door for me to escape and one where I need to be . Both are pretty far . Moonlit and sunkissed tears , now smile as the dawn broke into pieces , all the pieces shine like mirrors , that are now scattered .
Enthralling cosmic atelier , filling the torn pages of the old books breathes out some chimerical magic Chemical reactions of love and responsibilities find a way to break out the life - death .
No ! That means , I won't live , I can't smile I can't love whatever once , I did hate. I want to breathe through my verses , the words that fill love in me . If I am to root for a change in winter , amidst the snow , where my tears turn cold , I will . If I need to cross the deserts , under the deadly helios ,in the way to success , where my feet get blisters , I will . If I need to get drenched in heaven's love , to reach peace , where the petrichor will be my soul's scent , I will . If I need to walk over the thorns that fell on the ground , attached to the leaves that died sensing my arrival , just to reach myself , I will .
Let my fate , be judged by me , as I do not hold anyone responsible for whatever happens to me .
Elegy of dead drawings towards it - the hearts that beat fine , she who's waiting on the other door , wants me to be righteous , colorful and overflowing with peace . She needs me to be successful in breaking through the walls of the world . She who whispers my name in my ears , is me . And if she needs me , I'll be there , as she wishes .
// Not all twenties are shut with selfishness , mine are thoughtful in the darkness and shine brightest under the sunny skies .//
The wrinkled pages I leave for myself shall be my words for her to cross and reach me .
//When the time repeats , every me will just find the heart . The same heart every ' I ' shall posses , the same heart that was once lured by the death , the same heart that was once buried under the guilt , the same heart , that will win at the end . //
| The one who walks away from O m e l a s | Yes , I'm the one caged in , I walked away seeing the injustice done to me . Now I'll return , to make my escape , successful ....
Fire smouldering in vicinity , wrapped me up in a ruthless warmth , inconspicuous parts eaten up and bones melted into gray smokes . Basked in I was , in the cruelest feeling of an end , while the cage around me slowly blistered away into nothingness . Dampened eyes watched my wings loose their identity to the evil truth . But the agony condensing into my feathers wasn't to be blamed for the heartache A small puddle of gaiety , still breathing somewhere within watered all the pain away , whenever my mind wandered towards it .
//My heartbeats inched a bit closer and whispered an unknown secret and the words replaced my pain with wonder "Phoenixes have to burn first , to be born again my love ."//
Question mark concluded my wonder as mind muttered in hesitation , "Why burn yourself, when you were the one to be enslaved ?" But the promise of rebirth penned the next phrase of curiosity. Eyes darted around with a desire to adorn something in my last thought , and landed on ...a daffodil...inside a glass vase. The struggling buds offered me farewell and I breathed my last.
Eyes fluttered open and sitting I was , on an opened cage. My wings flapped in a small gush of triumph , gazing at the window nearby , and in came mist , followed by thunder , gossiping about the drifting cumulonimbus . But something in its voice screamed of despair. So I peered down to search for a soul sharing my sympathy. And instead , found hands shielding the heads from the foretold hail and colorful umbrellas guarding their way under the gray hues.
"Was no one going to help them ?"
Question roaming over me , sympathy dressed on my heart , I spread my wings and into the unknown , I dived . Silvery mist covered my euphoric self . I sailed higher , along with the raindrops resting on my wings , reciting tales of the umbrella weather .
// Petrichor lingered in the air as the barren land rejoiced watching the drizzle fill up its cracks with tender love . My heartbeats sped up as I watched my soul giggle in delight , for the once aching wings for the once aching wings were now healed by the bracing gale //
Even the sun joined me , it's affection waltzing with the silvery drizzle. Each drop of rain was enclosed within thin films of golden hues . And together , they gave birth to the rainbow . Rain dews scribbled down pages of intimacy and rebirth, while the sunbeams weaved them together into a chronicle . And named it A m a r y l l i s
Witnessing it like a proud mother , sheltered beside the last shades of the rainbow , I was left wonderstruck at the once moaning child , who had now pulled herself together . A lone tear broke free , matching the rhythm of the rain , as my heart ached realising , maybe ,I was a lone admirer of these rain dews , when a small chuckle pulled my gaze down . There came a small girl , chasing her paper boat on the deserted streets , daffodils braided in her hair whirling with her smile .
Taken aback I was when a whisper left her lips "Wish you could stay a little longer..."
//A glassy pair of eyes looked up at the receding clouds ,as a dazzling smile decorated the face of the girl with the paper boat . And that was the moment I realised...
Maybe , I wasn't the only one here , who could proudly call herself a CLOUDWALKER...//
#1306_7yrs#7toeternity#btsxarmy#BTSFesta2020 ______________ / B O Y S of our family / D R E A M S that are fulfilled / S M I L E S brighter than the sun / H E A R T S full of love / R E A S O N S to smile / Y E A R S of togetherness
A post dedicated to BTS and all the ARMYs , on this day of our 7th year of togetherness . From , 13.07.13 to 13.07.20 and many more years of happiness to come .
Our Journey , From N.O ( O!RUL8,2? - 2014 ) To ON ( Map of the Soul 7 - 2020 ) _________________________________________________
" In Seoul to the Sky , will parents really be happy ?"
– N O –
Our young , naive hearts had questioned the world " What does it mean to dream ?" And we were shown thousands of smiling faces But was it happiness , or muffled screams ?
Gradually , we had let it slip , that we too were made of flesh and bones 7 flowers of hopes were growing inside our empty heart's room But in a demanded fight to bloom the brightest Our flowers died for those , who couldn't even see it bloom .
Whitewashed were our brains with a single thought "Remember, there's no place for grief and failings" We slowly drank the poison that our minds poured for us And funny , how we wondered why we felt so miserable and ailing .
We had blisters on our feet from walking on the path already laid and built We were told it's wrong to traverse on the wild one we yearned Confineded in a city of Seoul we were Getting mockery and hatred in return .
But still after the restless nights , the sun still shined on us So with our hollowed eyes we looked up to ask why And as each sunbeam traced the cuts on our skin The sun whispered , " You deserve another try ".
So we decided to finally look away from humiliation When we realised our dreams weren't worthless , even if they said so , Clenching our fists and nodding a Y E S to our aspirations We set out to conquer the world , even if e v e r y b o d y– s a y s– N O !
" When you want to die , you need to strive to live as much as you want to die ."
– O N –
7 years flew by us , but no , we haven't changed It's only the masks which have fallen off We are strong enough to cry and show the world our pain But hiding it behind that fake smile , it's tough .
The flowers , brutally stepped on Still manage to stand straight and grow Your words may slice our skins deeper than a knife Yes capable it was to make us bleed , but ages ago.
Call many others to despise on us , we will still stand tall and smile As we will watch our shadows growing under the camera flashlights Where we are now ? Is it Seoul , New York or Paris ? We don't give an uh ! For we're together under the skylight .
That 7 year old past still lives with us in our memory We haven't just left it like a pool of dirty water to stagnate For in order to love ourselves completely The experiences that have shaped us , we cannot hate .
The rain may pour today , the sky may fall on us tomorrow And you may throw whatever your hand holds We live not only inside ourselves , but in million other hearts too Standing shielded together , whether be it summers or colds .
Yes , we had wobbled , we had stumbled , we had bleeded , we had cried But now we beam under our universe as the past is long gone Our cuts and bruises are healed beautifully now So don't hesitate , we're ready b r i n g – t h e– p a i n– O N !
from N O ~M O R E~ D R E A M S to D R E A M S
HAPPY 7th BANGTAN DAY ! - Kim Namjoon - Kim Seokjin - Min Yoongi - Jung Hoseok - Park Jimin - Kim Taehyung - Jeon Jungkook - BTS !
Not among the garden of thousands She grew alone like a bluebell some miles apart But no one appreciated her presence , so she remained just a weed to the eyes And like an uncared , unloved wildflower , remained her heart
Tears were moistening her wobbling roots But a kick on her stomach tugged at her sleeves , whispering "now , you aren't alone" Yes , a life was inspiriting inside her Maybe not conversant to the world , but for the one , she wasn't unknown
Merriment rays never greeted her days She would always wake up facing the downpour But all became alluring , as the life stirred inside her For now the drizzle had embossomed the petrichor
She did swithered , yes , to bring a life unaided For it takes both rain and sun for a plant to grow But she knew she had to become both for her ardour For sometimes , the winds of change do blow
Foreign to love , to an immense extent she was She had lamented for souls still alive And now the callous 22 year old pondered How that small life was a solitary reason for her to survive
And the day she finally cradeled the little girl A lone tear decamped from her eyes No , this time , it was the ecstacy fluttering inside her Not the torment due to another goodbye
The world did questioned the marred little face But for all the worthless prattling , it was too late For she had discerned what was meant by endearment And she had cherished her already , long before they met .
As she would caress her skin in warmth Her heart would be holding the affection she had to give For her memories were always sprinkled with hurts and lies And pitiful was the life she had lived
She watched her child crawl then walk Canoodling the little one in her arms , she smiled As she realised how no bond could be vehement Than the one shared between a mother and her child
How someone could pour their entire soul into someone , without yearning for anything in return Years later as the ' once little girl ' sat down to ponder Her mommy slowly grazed her fingers on her daughter's artistically marred face As she mumbled "Wait , till you're a mother"....
the day betrayed him in exhaustion among the dejected chaos his silent heart still smiled his elation fell like mild winter snow that glittered like once lost hope , on the forest gone wild
he recites the world where to recover it's essence but himself goes astray among the stars at night and the moonbeams peek through the sanguine clouds grazing the skin of their long lost love , – T H E M O O N C H I L D –
On a rainy day, I was waiting for my bus. Far away from the bus stop, there was a tea-stall, the tea-seller or chai-wale uncle, was too happy (donno why :)) and played the radio as soon as I went to order a tea. It was pouring heavily, while the hot tea arrived! Ah, what a great time! But, I can savour this nostalgic moment only until my bus comes! Soon, there came a news in the radio, I wasn't bothered tho. Then the rj came up with an interesting topic, "Do you believe in reincarnation?" I was dumbstruck. What? Are we reincarnated? Did we undergo through this tiresome life before? Wasn't it enough that we came up again to live? No, I don't believe in reincarnation. It feels disgusting tho. But am sure that, life doesn't be anything new, your problem no. 1 can be someone's 100th.... Scary? Or sickening?
Then, why do we hate to love everyday? Are we a collection of words? Or a collection of good and bad experiences? A collection of time? Wait. Time has a collection? What if the present me was a past me to myself! A collection of world? Whoever sees the next day, is present in the collection of time? Obsolete humans find no place in the world? Fine, yes. That seems acceptable like Darwin's theory! The perpetuality of inanimate world is to test who rules it. World puts on difficulty levels to every individual, if you know the solution to the problem after nth attempt, you must know that you have another level to clear.
Are you sure, you wanna live 366th day of the same year and not enter 1st day of the next year (no, not about 2020). Can you live in 25th hour and endure the same dark night rather than entering 5 am of the next day?
Hope a substance, a lifeline for those who are about to fade. Can't we lose and gain hope? Lose and gain trust? Lose and gain time? Still, are we new to world every next level? Even if you could see death of people by seeing their eyes, you wouldn't be able to interpret your beloved's death! You have something in you that keeps dragging you down. Sometimes to past, and anemoia. If living is just in the tales that your brain weaves, can you not know your brain wants you to be something more and not less.
Anatomy of life has some rules for dissection. Firstly, learn the incisions, the way you see your problem; the lightest way you feel it, the easiest way you can find the roots of problem. Secondly, prepare with your instruments; whatever you can use, whatever you have-- love, mercy, strength, brain, hope, faith, trust. Thirdly, know the way to fix your problem; if you need a shunt,you can use your previous experiences to avoid the new mistakes or recorrecct them. Fourthly, know how to stitch everything into a perfect one piece; know how to make the bad memory, the past problem to heal and form a new scar. Fifth, make sure that the percentage of recurrences is less, that means the removal of bad memory is removed, but the lesson, the type of surgery is always left behind, a musing.
Make sure to remember the problem of other's life and be prepared for it or the worst. World isn't new. Should we be new to the world? But we are. Are we?
It would be wrong if I begin with tears, Rather I would blather up the righteousness, of having an angel like you.
It would still be wrong if others judged, "You haven't seen him in person still love him so much." But its a subtle serenity that clings me to you.
A boy, nah let me choose man, A man with subconscious innocence, and a pulchritude within his eyes. It speaks volume.
Its totally insane isn't it? I havent met you, I probably would know you the least, but still why do I feel This warming, the sparkle, every time I see you Dance in joy. Why do I burn when I see you shed those tears? How is all this possible. Well writing about you makes my heart flutter with joy and real glee.
At last, even if you fail know there are people who are waiting to see you happy. No matter how much you grow, You will emerge from the better. Its been a great journey you have lived.
I still haven't met you, I dont even know if I ever will, But let me tell you, You make my heart fluttler with a rush of oxytocin, And even on my lows, you never fail to lift me with that charming smile. You have been the cause of my euphoria, And you forever will.
~a small dedicated one to a person who turned a year older. Happiest Kookie day you all!
To: The "TrustFrated" man Jungkookie❤ From: One in a billion ARMY SARANGHAE❤ Kashish.