redstrings

insta : redstrings_123 ��

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  • redstrings 1d

    Our eyelids have rain often,
    As leaves bend to ground,
    Our lips have refused to open.
    Letting our chins hold heart,
    Till our time has a run left.
    And when we fall in tempest,
    To silenty wash away in depths.
    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 1d

    cant I hear the song,
    whispered by tombs?
    to dig up the wet soil,
    soaked in salt drops.

    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 2d

    I am lost

    I cant pretend,
    Not in this moment.
    Please wait more.

    My soul is tired,
    Maybe its cursed,
    For it loves fate.
    ......

    Dont try to die,
    Its a miserable lie.

    You just have to smile,
    There are yet, hundred miles.
    .........

    Have a little rest,
    Or burn the lust.

    Crave the thirst,
    And it will be must.

    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 2d

    'Individual existence constricts
    But complacent breaths persist
    And blindfolded society restricts'

    I have a confession,
    I am a creature of words,
    And they love to be wrote,
    But demurely they spoke.

    Somehow the meanings,
    Cascaded down the throat,
    And only syllables croaked.

    On cue my eyes met stares,
    Sly hauteur in torpid vessels,
    But mirror reflected the pardon,
    On excused morass in the prose.

    Word plus Word, society of thought,
    Catered to more the purpose I wore.
    I aligned only on ticks not the cross.
    And a single digit was lost in score.

    There was mistrust somewhere,
    And to understand the rotten song,
    Cover had to be thrown if not worn.
    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 4d

    Whispers of childhood,
    have brought unwanted tears
    and I keep sliding them,
    to drown my ringing ears.
    Those are the times gone by,
    distances are miles longer now.
    I keep searching a resemblance,
    Nothing sounds familiar just cold.

    People laugh and try to reach me out,
    and I smile once more hoping for more.
    I look back begging her to meet me soon,
    But she stares at me with death in her eyes.
    Feeling so cold as if ice enclosed her within,
    I hold a hammer but fear if she will break too.
    She screams at me to never remember them,
    Photographs are staged, moments true as mirage.

    Nothing sounds familiar just cold.
    Everything is as if nothing has changed.
    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 4d

    A full moon never lasted forever,
    in undecipherable depths of skies.
    Inch by Inch it got eaten at heights,
    and downstairs fate was knocking...

    A fiction was all, what I read,
    A fantasy was all, what I dreamt,
    A metaphor was all, what I kept,
    A riddle was all, what I had...

    Is it enough to write all of you in blue,
    when I fear you may never come true.
    So much long and it had been prolonged,
    Just like that prologue with no pages to fall...

    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 1w

    I have lived years with you,
    to write you as our past.
    So beautiful were you,
    Reflection of our time.
    Bitter, Sweet & Saline.

    I craved forever with you,
    to draw again the time.
    So temporal were you,
    Shadow surviving light.
    Blind,Entwined & Alive.

    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 1w

    A long wandering search
    is begging to end with you..

    ©redstrings

    My hearts dwells on him.
    As memories bell on me.

  • redstrings 1w

    It dawns on you slowly,
    that an emptiness,
    keeps swallowing,
    your tilted cheeks blush,
    your million stars in rush,
    your gentle & loyal touch,
    but you didnt mind it much.
    & ever wonder why is it such?

    And now rain is getting heavier,
    and mask eroded by salty tears,
    is too weak & humble to hold on.
    Your tongue cries like a bitter whip,
    and ears echo as sanity caves in.
    You burst out in thousand syllables,
    with puzzles in few to reach you out.
    And tired eyes keep looking around,
    for familiar shapes & figures to rest.
    And a sweet feeling of nostalgic dirt,
    looks cheap but is sold out in heaps.
    ©redstrings

  • redstrings 2w

    these calm clouds are a mere agony,
    with sunkissed afternoons too plenty.
    and nights all but montonous tyranny,
    with peace sprinkled in vapors of irony.
    ©redstrings