Just like her solivagant mind wanders and the soft vernalagnia colors her cheeks, rosy - poetry swells from her inside. What her camera captures, spins words of hope and despair in her.
Where the heart bleeds on to the paper, there springs poetry...
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#CURTAINS
The things we do, And the things we don't.
If only we could Then the world would be hopeful And a lot easier A lot brighter But then... Do we?
And the question says it all So that means we don't want to hope We push away the light Keeping curtains over the window of hope
We want to hope But yes we find excuses to not
And the darkness is comfortable But one day it starts to become suffocating The comfortable curtain become a noose, To strangle the life breath out But still we bury ourselves deeper into it.
There are people that might Hold out a helping hand of hope And yet we cling to the darkness, Even if it suffocates us to the point of madness.
We put heavier curtains to block out the light We spin the yarns of darkness
And continue gazing longingly at That little chink in the curtain, Like a chink in our armor Through which hope filters and beckons
Maybe one day we'll throw back the blinds, And let the hope flood us but today The suffocating darkness is our companion.
#comfortzones
Inspired by a conversation with KashishBelikov #midnightmusings
