Fighting with thoughts Struggling with emotion I am here strengthening my own world.

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  • sheikha_97 6w

    A longing,
    A wish,
    A wish I dreamt,
    Just dreamt.
    A longing,
    To visit that world of mine,
    That world of my glory.
    A longing,
    To swim in that velvety stream,
    Of my tears,
    My tears,
    My golden gloomy tears.
    A longing.
    To climb up,
    The mountain of my dreams,
    And the dreams left undreamt.
    A longing,
    To fly high,
    Across that intoxicating,
    That purple sunless sky,
    Those grey tranquil clouds.
    A longing,
    To feel that hiraeth,
    To sense that hiraeth,
    To absorb that hiraeth into me.

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    Poem in caption.

  • sheikha_97 7w


  • sheikha_97 8w

    Let's look into ourselves. Though admiring our own nature is difficult yet beautiful.

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    Who am I?

    Who am I?
    Am I an introvert?
    Or someone afraid of reality?
    Am I a peaceful person?
    Or an ocean of thunders within?
    Am I water?
    Black coloured though.
    Am I wind?
    Warm and intoxicating though.
    Who am I?
    Am I a cloud?
    Covered in a blue velvety cape of calmness?
    Am I an ocean?
    Fully filled but hollow.
    Am I a flower?
    Full of grace and solace.
    Or am I a thorne?
    Dangerous but protective.
    Who am I?
    A thought flashing across me,
    Everytime I look into the sky.
    Am I the sky?
    Beautiful yet tranquil.

  • sheikha_97 9w

    A warm welcome to the season of utmost beauty and faithfulness.
    Here comes winter,
    With scary screams of coldness,
    Knocking at the door,
    Of the upcoming life,
    The life out of summer.
    Here comes winter,
    Too eagerly waiting,
    To knock out the spirit of summer,
    And establish itself,
    Within our cold,
    Shivering hearts.
    Here comes winter,
    Cold and chilling,
    Filled with moments,
    Of utmost beauty,
    Of utmost care,
    Of utmost faithfulness.
    Here comes winter,
    Scaring away the flowery glory,
    Scaring away the spirits of life.
    Here comes winter,
    Knocking at the door of,
    Laziness and beauty,
    The beauty of coldness,
    The beauty of faithfulness.

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    Here comes winter,
    With scary screams of coldness.

  • sheikha_97 10w

    I want to be a broken star, sharing a glimpse of shine with each and every humble person whose dreams have got everything shattered.
    I want to be a broken star showing every withered person that BROKEN IS BEAUTIFUL. I want to be a broken star to show everyone that a small blink of shine can light up an entire distant land. I want to be a broken star guiding every person whose tears have a golden glow arrested within them.

  • sheikha_97 12w

    For perfection is an aesthetic pleasure, not meant for the mortal man to practice. And,imperfection is a natural atiquette too gloriously manipulated and cried upon by the perfection seekers. Thus, blending our life with a speck of perfection and a never ending tale of imperfections, we move and move getting into the flow and shaping the nature.

  • sheikha_97 13w

    So here I end up,
    With that blank feeling,
    Which leads me into a world,
    I have been nurturing.
    And, here I again roll up,
    That piece of paper,
    I have been nurturing,
    To fill up with my feelings.
    And, here I land into,
    That world of mine,
    Where feelings are words,
    And, emotions are swords.
    And, here I end up,
    Harbouring the blank feeling,
    I have been struggling to convert,
    Into a handful of words.
    So, here I end up,
    Again too messed up,
    With the words,
    I love the most,
    And with the blank feeling,
    I have been harbouring.
    ©sheikha_97 .

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    Where feelings are words,
    And emotions are swords.

  • sheikha_97 14w

    Too pathetically broken.

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    "Why I feel like crying",
    Is a story untold,
    Too original,
    Too faithful,
    A struggle ,I wanna hold.
    Flow and flow,
    My heart says ,
    Addressing my cries,
    But all I do is,
    Curl my eyes,
    Wiping my tears,
    Nurturing my fears,
    Getting into a world,
    Too bold,
    Too cold.
    All I do is thinking and blinking,
    Sinking and sinking,
    Under the water,
    Filled with the story of,
    "Why do i cry a lot? ".

  • sheikha_97 22w

    Some say thoughts become things.
    I say thoughts become weapons.

  • sheikha_97 23w

    I practice love,
    Because it is the only perfection,
    I get to practice,
    After my eyes are devoid of tears.