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Chains Doesn’t Define Us

  I await you at the end of the line, Hoping to see you once again to intertwine. I’ve always wanted to love you the same way you did to me, If I ever did… who would I have to be? There is nothing that can shake me to the core, There used to be something from before. Bare my soul as I fall to my knees in this desolated world, This could be the last time my hands curled. Every word is a dying scream, Everything is a living nightmare than a dream, I never knew that everything falls downstream, There was no last gleam. A dying world is like a dying soul never to be found, Broken so hollow, It is all bound… You expect me to follow? I gave my life for you and this is what I get? Every scar that you and I have been through? This is no bet! You thought you knew! Instead you destroyed everything! Or… I lost the will to sing. Cage me if you want, Sure you can taunt, Leave everything behind to haunt, Sooner or later one of us will daunt. No broken soul is left to rot, There is no reason to fraug
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Memories of Freedom

Across the winter sky it became from blue to gray, As the snowflakes has fallen down you beg to stay, The air feels cold against your skin when you pray, A sense of peace when you close your eyes and wander astray. At least tell me if I can be like a cloud, To create art in the sky and away from the crowd, Not that I am screaming out loud. We dream about flying and waited so long to find our wings, Each star in space is like a dream in a diamond ring, I am not looking for a king, At least I want to sing. When you open your eyes do they gleam or sparkle? Dancing above the ocean waves spinning around in a circle, Do you ask yourself if you ever wanted to be mortal? What are the problems of being a human when they don’t have their own wings? Do they bring? Or do they cling? No one knows how hard it is to be a simple angel on earth, Even when we give it our worth, There is something deeper than the soul to find how much it is known to be a hearth. Every human goes dark, To lose that spark.

Memory of an Angel

  Remember when we used to have fun, Running towards the sun. Flying around in the sky to touch that sunlight, Does it matter to be so bright? The moment when I fell you didn’t know what to do, You were not the only one to feel that sadness through. To believe of what could have been, Understand that there is more to be seen. You held onto my hand, Saying that ‘this will never happen again’. Can you only trust those simple small words? No matter how many times it was with a sword. Or worse when you took that all on your own, Bitter and cold like a stone. When the world grows cold and shadowed, Reflects what everyone ends up to be windowed. Pain is not just a feeling, Is it something worth stealing? The difference of healing, It questions whether it is concealing or revealing. I want to be your shield to the sword, To protect what your life has been like, Let us dance on the land of the lord, No matter about each strike. When everything is spinning, You and I can show a smile, To touch

Rainbow Reflection

  Here I lay underneath the dawn of the sky, Questioning everything when the morning goes by, To uncover the veil of shadows I await any kind of lie, Who knows when the next storm arrives as it masks my cry. Listening to the rain when it collapses from the flood, Do I drown to darken the flowing sadness? Opening my wounds when the water becomes a shade of blood, Can I really overcome the screaming madness? An isolation that I am searching for a way out, Any way to erase the doubt, Or to remember what was once haunting, The memories that pass by me for an understanding. Open your eyes when your life passes by, Feeling the tidal waves when you fly, Closing the door to the heart from the moment that you'd rather die, How many more times can I try? You want to breathe so you reach up for a sign of life, Trapped within the beckoning of a reflection of yourself, Do you want to fight yourself with a knife? How many times will this happen to myself? Do I let the waves guide me? Will it let

"A flower & a book"/ Gurpreet Kaur

  πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“πŸ’“ What is the relationship between a dried flower and a old book?  That flower was in its colors when it was placed in the book.  But, unlike the Book, it's lifespan is too short.  So, It dried up and lost its color.  But still, the Book hold it up like a sweet and sour memory,  at least till becoming itself teared.  Even though, they are poles apart, a dried flower and a old book is a beautiful match.  Something like a cute love fantasy. Something like the love story of  'Nine - taled fox & a human'.

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