Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Again with a hermetic piece.....

Some says those who write to convey a message are overwhelmed by the powerful sense of timidity. Some says they are dramatic,driven by self delusion of those trivial fancies. But I write because every words I write so painstakingly is being one step more closer to you; our intimate souls and our heart beating but with one rhythm. I write because the words I speak seems obscure than the thoughts I make. My feelings vaster than the azure blue sky and my thoughts stronger than a bone. Let me write the words not written to the last dew of my ink. Let me write words forgotten and thoughts overlooked.

Those objects of an endearment. Those objects of power and strength to my tender self. Those objects revolving around my heart and giving it a wonderful rhythm. For them I shall write. Because only that way I can give my pure self;the crystal clear of my inner self. I can't ravish them by being so jolly a man because I am meant not that way. I can't flatter with the words I speak. For that I am the greatest fool alive torn between the dreadful realities of the world and my desirous fantasy.

Sometimes I wish the universe to confide with me; the sun,the moon and all natures force. By this way I can make this world an ideal place. I can be with the girl I love, my happy family by my side.All I can do is always desire and write without an efficacy. My words so impotent and my soul so whacked.

Even writing seems useless in this tiresome world of glitz and glamour. But I won't let my heart bleed to death by not writing. I don't want to let my spirit weep silently with the cruelest agony of not writing. I don't want to let my thoughts perish like a morning's dew. Because the words are me and I am the words I write. Forever I shall write; it was thus and thus it shall be forever more.
(MANIA)


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