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  • hridaya 9w

    Universe bestows upon the Quill,
    Potential to unite wavering minds
    Spilling ink, filling empty canvases
    Drafting tale of unheard silences
    Of the smiling facade.


    ©hridaya

  • hridaya 11w

    Dragged by thread of faith,
    It broke yesterday,
    Filling the void with emptiness
    Up till the brim, overflowing ache
    Even the spring could bestow no care.


    ©hridaya

  • hridaya 11w

    Until yesterday, a vagabond chasing the north star,
    Tonight I rewrite my stars.


    ©hridaya

  • hridaya 12w

    Unapologetically I stay

    Short hair,
    Orange it's shade
    Pair of khaki pants
    Brown tees
    I wear, unapologetically.

    Comfortable in my skin,
    Tattooed in numerable hues,
    A physiologist by profession
    Passionate of art,
    Unapologetically.

    Alarm rings at four,
    To rest I go at one,
    Dark circles lay under eyes
    In peace, unapologetically.

    I am the shy one,
    I am the narrator
    When around I like,
    Creating stories,
    An introvert unapologetically.

    When twelve, drove my first bike,
    At twenty-one, rode a Harley
    Down northern terrains,
    A tomboy, unapologetically.

    In an era of Metal and rap,
    Humming to the tunes of 90's
    Sitting in a balcony
    Staring at clear skies,
    A day-dreamer, unapologetically.

    Reading love tales, broken
    Gripped by mystery, sleepless
    In philosophy, seeking myself
    A book-worm unapologetically.

    Class ranker,
    College drop-out,
    Baking muffins, plating heaven,
    A baker, unapologetically.

    Of absolute soundness,
    Breaking stereotypes,
    Living like there's no other day
    Churning memories,
    Unapologetically I stay.


    ©hridaya

  • hridaya 12w

    Wild flowers of the same bed,
    We all struggle to bloom.
    Some as weeds, some Lillies,
    Some tender dandelions.
    Uncertain, how long
    Frangnance shall last.
    Crushed before we start.
    We all share struggles
    To stay, to make it to the end.
    Yet, foolishly we compare
    To be the rose,
    Unaware it adores thorns too,
    Proudly on its chest.
    Appreciation is degraded,
    Taken too granted
    We never acknowledged our efforts,
    Until it's too late,
    Eager to reap what we haven't sowed.
    The poor, the rich,
    All have boulders to move
    Some to make a living,
    Some to keep what they have earned
    Yet we own nothing.
    Regardless of the breed you belong to
    Hustle shall stay constant.
    Count your stars, not theirs
    A million dreams you are here to make
    That shall make your way.


    ©hridaya

  • hridaya 13w

    When I was a kid,
    Magic was candy she
    Would take off her back,
    Christmas presents kept me
    Awake
    Just until the santa arrived
    And left in a wink,
    Running around merry go round
    I belived I had wings,
    Building sand castles
    Real struggle for my tiny hands,
    I learnt how determined I was,
    Childhood had the magic wand,
    I swooshed like a magician,
    Then why do I tremble to trick the mind
    That's slipping of my head?


    ©hridaya

  • hridaya 13w

    Dear Captain,

    Darkness is not here to fill in gloom,
    It is to bestow upon you the
    Power to unveil the light,
    Like stars you often stare.

    Begining this night,

    Seek no more to ESCAPE the turmoil,
    Here to build the captain in you!


    ©hridaya

  • hridaya 13w

    It takes great passion,
    Immense dedication,
    Little sacrifice or may be
    Just a little prioritisation,
    To wander away
    Fom the present,
    mentally
    Stealing our muses
    From neighbouring
    Enclosures,
    Creating just an
    Ordinary piece.
    Sadly, calling it
    an addiction,
    They killed the
    Wordsmith slowly,
    Tearing down
    Diligently
    Pound by pound,
    Wailing silently.


    ©hridaya

  • hridaya 14w

    Not that I have run out of breaths,
    Neither am I on verge of shattering into pieces,
    Just a part of this rat race, too exhausted.
    I crave a little holiday
    In a faraway island, little quietness
    Or shall I say, time to myself?
    Paint an immature art,
    Scribble pandemonium of verses,
    Dance to tunes of gushing Ganges,
    Or may be, just lie motionless
    And let the air do it's business,
    Because I want to make small steps,
    Running no more, living on the edges.


    ©hridaya

  • hridaya 14w

    A moment of mediocre stillness,
    In an hour of chaotic relay,
    Instill an art of tattered palms.


    ©hridaya