the_poetic_room

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  • the_poetic_room 1w

    How far can you go?
    On a journey, that would never end.
    The heart embroidered memories,
    Of all those left behind.

    Isn't it true, love is beautiful?
    But how do we justify,
    When all we can retrospect
    Is heartbreaks and cold strains.

    Fooling oneself for the sake
    Of an unreal smile,
    To feed the depression
    That led to a schizophrenic inflation.
    ©the_poetic_room

  • the_poetic_room 3w

    Why not hide behind phrases
    Of some unsung tales of the broken,
    And truncated hymns meant for
    The love that hurted.

    For a change , why not embrace
    The decayed flower that might
    Bloom again ,longing for
    Love to shower.

    Where does relationship justify
    The legitimacy of its being an
    Omnipresent masterpiece of Love
    That can never be finished.

    To make believe the stories told
    About love and hate that can
    Never unfold , nevertheless
    Believing the prisoned youth.

    -$iddhartha
    ©the_poetic_room

  • the_poetic_room 3w

    Bid Adieu

    The masquerade of the lamented
    Went out in numbers
    To pass through the path
    That was doomed somewhere within my heart.

    The cold breath and restless thoughts
    Seemed intoxicating , maybe I was dead.
    I blamed none but myself
    For being in love again.

    Introspection of the bald expectations
    Made me realise everything that went unheard
    And I pledge to make things alright
    Here I proclaim , 'Bid Adieu'.

    -$iddhartha
    ©the_poetic_room

  • the_poetic_room 6w

    Parameters

    What do u fear that
    Makes you shade tears.
    Irrational thoughts that you retrospect
    Or is it the fear of falling apart?

    Maybe you want to go
    Away from yourself
    Deceiving the eyes of you admirer,
    His memories came nearer.

    Trust, to be fine with
    Everything that was promised.
    Be good enough to enjoy the moments,
    That makes you smile for a while.

    Babe it's just the dreams
    You don't want to dream of
    And if it's alright to run away
    Just stay with me.

    Maybe the past stabs
    Your back; you love the pain
    But where does this end?
    Intoxicating me and making the relations faint.
    ©the_poetic_room

  • the_poetic_room 6w

    Just something stupid...

    How unfortunate can one be?
    Well , ask someone who wears a smile on the face to avoid coming in spotlight. How can you console a broken soul? You must know it's never a matter of joke.
    Sympathy is not what someone needs , look closely it's you who makes him breathe.
    When words don't come out and the boy chokes to say his feelings out , go through the long-forgotten diary , that held him close for so long.

    He never mattered to you but appreciate when you know you matter a lot to him , you never know how long that guy can annoy you because hopeless souls don't survive for long.

    Does this sound whimsical? Or is it being cheesy enough? I must say , when you know a person has nothing to hold back except the beautiful memories spent with you , be a little humane to embrace those efforts and put a smile on the face before it gets beautified with flowers hanging around his photo-frame !

    -$iddhartha

    ©the_poetic_room

  • the_poetic_room 7w

    Sazee

    I got lost while searching
    For a love that I felt within.
    Nowhere did I go to seek euphoria
    Troubled with my own thoughts.

    I have been such a disgrace,
    Not worthy of a subtle embrace.
    Rejection of all efforts I put
    Broke me down till I fell apart.

    Maybe one more story will find its way
    To add to the words left undone.
    I will speak of my mind's elation
    Only when this writer fades in isolation.

    -$iddhartha
    ©the_poetic_room

  • the_poetic_room 7w

    Ojuhath

    Ekhono mone pore shey rokte sajano diary r pata gulo...
    Nishshobde tara jene esheche onek kichu proti muhurte....
    Bastob hariye jokhn kolponar ek oloukik sohore khuje pai tomay...mone holo sopno holeo eti shotti noy....
    Dombondho ei kalo shada jibon theke palate byartho hyeche ei boba mon... bishoyti jokhn bhalobasha ke joriye , chup kore lukiye thaki shei kothar majhe...
    Shanto ek nishi raatrer thanda abohawa mone koriye dey onek byartho bhalobasha..
    jokhn chand er dike cheye mone kori shei opurbo cheharar kotha....joler moto porishkar hye bhashe shei purono sriti....ja hoytoh hariye gechilo tomari ek onno jogot e....jokhn jotno kore rekhechilam buker ek kone.....choriye gele cancer er moto gota shorir jure....ami nijeke harate shikhechi tomar chokher bhetor.... hariye jaoa ei manushti hariye feleche tar sorboshho antar ti ke ...bhebe dekho kokhno somoy pele...bhalobeshe gechi tomake pranpone...kokhno obossho jodi paro bujhte...mone rekho shei deoale tanano photo ti ke...ek somoy beche chilo shey premik shudhu tomari jnne...
    ©the_poetic_room

  • the_poetic_room 8w

    Impression

    When depression is in progression,
    And body falls into emancipation
    The soul breaks in isolation,
    And love turns to be desolation.

    There are stories yet to be read,
    And flavors yet to be added.
    Where romance is supposed to be dead
    And love is dreaded.

    Be it in reel or real,
    Love beautifies with burns and scratches.
    Grand gestures are tied into phrases
    For everything depends on an impression.

    -$iddhartha
    ©the_poetic_room

  • the_poetic_room 9w

    Farewell

    The cheering corridors won't reverb again
    The chattering walls won't laugh again,
    The ill-favoured desks would stay empty,
    And Lifeless dolts won't sleep again.

    The screaming vocals of people in uniform,
    Loud abuses of friends in unison.
    Where memories were made with utmost delusion,
    That same old school won't welcome again.


    -$iddhartha
    ©the_poetic_room

  • the_poetic_room 10w

    Is it reel or real?
    How do you know ,
    When reality seems unreal,
    And some feelings are critical.

    When emotional cramps
    And relationship dilemma
    Cripples the heart;
    Hard to breathe and hard to pump.

    -$iddhartha
    ©the_poetic_room