Life is stringing her along with every heartbeat
Choking on the words of yesterday
As she is high, drunk on emotions
Drying up on her own expectations
Somewhere in the broken heart of space
The little girl inside her has grown into a beast that guards her heart from this pathetic world
Beautiful but dangerous…
Thrones in her words keep people at their bay
Every day she wonders
What is the difference between normal painting and greatest painting?
It’s a matter of five bold stokes they say
Over time she failed to accomplish these stokes
A thought that watered screwing up the paintings has bloomed into a giant tree
Might cost her efforts or may be it was risk that needed to be taken.
Which had her hands shiver at the touch of brush
And eventually hope along with her gave up painting
Maybe it’s same for her in life too….
Never bold enough to speak up
Living in the irregularities of thoughts
Stuck in the angle of incidents
In a ocean of loneliness she became a mirage to her existence
Over again and again
Maybe this dessert flower doesn’t know the price of rain after years of torture and pain
She doesn’t know what is is like to quench her thirst with success
Maybe she is too sacred to bloom
The bud that rotted from inside out
And left to dry up and break…
Only her stroke of words are bold as she paints her words in sorrow on the sands of today.
Dieing a little everyday as the time laps the pages of life by and left to the responsibilities of adulthood begins as she has failed to master that one bold stoke ….. Maybe one day she will have the strength to risk it all.
Waiting for that day as the seconds tick by so that she can bloom again into the flower that she is meant to be… waiting seems endless for you dear flower