Written in these lines,
Are years of stories,
Ages of men have passed and flew,
But this tree stood,
Now it's time has come,
Struck out its barks,
By nature's act.
Found a broken tree while morning walk.
Was Impressed by patterns in its barks.
Embedded Files
“Kogarashi”
When you feel the cold wind that signifies the arrival of winter.
Leaves falling down after a windy chill
Why pretend,
Why not end.
Why think,
Why Care,
Why love,
Why dare.
Why Lie,
Why share,
Why start,
Why stare.
Why win,
Why lose,
Why play.
Why Why.
Cold hallways,
Frosted Days,
Chilled nights,
Blurred vision,
Fainted smiles.
Winter has arrived.
(1/3)
Purple Hyacinth,
Flowers of
Sorrow, Forgiveness.
Things at end of life,
wish you don't find.
(2/3)
White Hyacinths,
Flowers of
loveliness, prayers.
In life, you need,
in the people you seek.
(3/3)
White in a garden of Purple
Praying for love,
In a field of sorrow.
As people in some stages of life,
In deep suffer,
But offering solicitude.
Red Clouds,
Like Bloody hell,
Angelic Voices in the sky,
You see, You hear, You tell.
Clouds a bit more red in the evening cause of Lunar Eclipse.
I love winters,
My skin shivers,
I can see my breath,
I can feel a cold wind swaying around,
.
Birds on trees,
warm cosy nests,
.
.
"My tears are always frozen
I can see the air I breathe
Got my fingers painting pictures
On the glass in front of me
Lay me by the frozen river
Where the boats have passed me by
All I need is to remember
How it was to feel alive"
~ Aurora, Winter Bird.
Photo clicked be me on a winter walk I took once.
P.S. That ain't snow.
Redness glowing like fate,
Like demons inside on every date,
Hope they never come out,
Cause they'll grow up and shout.
Sirius in the sky,
You try to click it,
But hands shake,
Cause they have been broken,
For Another Love,
For Another Love.
(I shaked my hand and made a light painting of Sirius in the sky)
Lights in a Lecture Hall,
More pleasing to eyes than slides,
See it blur when you...
you glance around at birds.
Lights streaks at night,
Like Tears on a sad face,
Moving shyly trying to be unnoticed,
But still be noticed by keen ones.
Streaks of light,
Like a blinding sight.
Blurry like depth of a well,
See closely or miss the story they tell.
White Canvas,
Empty like void,
But don't you notice the imperfections it holds,
The delicate scars, its small roughs.
Just like boring people,
If you look deep enough,
They might be the most interesting ones.
Distant lights, I stare.
Ganges at night.
n a Sky filled with stars,
Jupiter Shone different than Mars,
Its Bands evading eyes like a mellow cat,
Meanwhile a lonely traveller moves on an unflat.
A leaf in a sea of green,
Being odd of all,
It's three petals can tell,
What the nature yells.
.
Green petals moving in trice,
Weeding out in a field of rice.
Even in the gray-est sand,
You can differentiate them from other land
Petals raining,
Drops of pink,
Swiftly as time swaying,
Glimpsing like a brink.
Red Spirals Odd,
Like life sometimes,
You stuck in a loop after tries,
Even when you try to go out,
You are stuck in a even bigger one.
Yellow Flowers on asphalt,
Like stars in sky,
But way too clear,
As not blurred by clouds they are.
Through tunnels of tricks,
I see the world with mists,
Blinded by the rest,
I try to focus on things best.
To white flowers of old,
Your petals sparkle like gold,
Your beauty can only be told,
By those that can see in depths of every fold.
To Flowers' glamour,
To the grandeur the show,
To the beauty the don't hide,
To Nature's art they display.
Bridges you wait upon,
For the dawn to sweep,
Just like some times in life,
Thinking about one's own shit,
Waiting for change to hit,
And your thoughts to finally fit.
Magnificent aren't they,
look them when I see up,
If you see in the morning,
you won't find them a lot,
The harsh sun they wait for,
Cover it like blinds they want to.
Your Rhythm and Muse,
Only I can deduce,
Your gait and every trait,
I am the one to celebrate.
Your heartbeat, your breath,
I can listen from far.
You every move,
I notice, I count.
Your Deepest fantasies,
I can Understand.
The complexities of your scars,
into I dive.
The lines you write, the words you speak,
I appreciate.
There is a light that never goes out,
Even when your loudest demons shout.
Colours in Sky,
Maybe Refracted by clouds,
You don't see them often,
So look at them with "wow"s.
Plants after rain,
Dust sliding like grain,
Waiting for the drops to settle,
And the stillness to belittle.
Redness like Blood,
Piercing eyes as Lasers,
But still I have to know them better,
To make my life a little simpler.
Windows of dew,
Like people few,
Make your vision hazy,
And your mind fuzzy.
I don't know why, how,
But Jupiter has always been my favourite planet,
Is it because it's the largest, or cause of it's scarry texture, or just because of the song "Drops of Jupiter" by Train.
Image acquired via Wikimedia Commons
See through your heart,
The things your eyes disguise,
Just by people's opinions,
Don't change your life notions.
Shades of Grey,
On leaves during day,
Highlighting the contrast of life in their own way.
Why is the moon so alluring?
Is it cause of it's moonlight,
Which is sun's reflection.
Nope,
It's cause of its scars,
Scars which attract the intensed.
.
Similarly for people, To state Lex Fridman's Quote
"Imperfections are beautiful. They are the window into a person's complexity, depth, and character".
.
Moon's photo taken by me in 2019,
Ignore the exposure at right.
I don't know why I added John Wayne as the music.
Flowers under streetlight,
Reflecting their colours with delight,
Just like Moon under sun,
Reflecting its glitter to Earth.
A part of the crowd,
You are still proud.
You have a lot to learn,
And a Lot to burn.
So, Learn to let things go,
And Curb your ego.
Photo from "Where's Waldo?"
Mornings with no clouds,
Sleeps with no dreams,
Things I see,
Things I see.
If you go deep in thought,
And stare at black for too long,
You'll find something in complete darkness.
It's not Empty, that's white.
It's actually quite full,
Just that you can see none.
Before the break of day,
Clouds washing the sky sway,
Birds waiting to chirp back to home,
Waiting for breezy clouds to turn to night foam.
To Flowers of crimson pink,
I due my bow and wink,
How thou take eyes of old masters you?
That can't compare to yellow and Blue.
Gayish bubbles,
Like colours in rubbles,
Exploring dreams,
Like colourful creams,
Only the the "vivid" understand,
The vision these sparkles embed.
Photo of bubbles at 250x magnification.
Wikipedia Picture of the day.
What is red?
Is it the color of the dead? Blood?
Or it's the color of love?
But I know this so,
Red attracts like no other.
Moon through sky's circular frame,
Like a lens of flirt's play.
People say love is a game,
A game you can't just win.
If their is a way ...
It's the last day of earth,
Skies blazing with fiery wrath,
Even how scorched the tears of love be,
When hell calls, thou wait for nil.
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