adropofhumanity

a small token of kindness (29th August 2021)
          
          when the day like the fresh skin of spring comes to the eye, naked and shy, there is a distinction like that of the earth and the roots of the sky. present is light, also its shadow and there is a firm film of growth therein that remains asleep to the world. 
          
          in this haziness, there is a movement that occurs certainly, but uncertain it happens to seem to the world. in the thousands of agonies and the delicately wrapped canvas, there is a lamp that sits and awaits the freedom to bleed; tickling the clock to slit its own throat. 
          
          such is the case of the sun that derives a meaning of death from its life. in existing, there is an excitement. in dying, there is power. there is a life of duality in the hands of mortals. 
          like the sun that exists as a shadow and dies as a whole piece. 
          
          it breaks to form and forms to break. 
          
          it is in the fog the universe waits and waits eagerly to feel itself a little more daringly than usual. there is a harmony, a secretive symphony between what is known and what is unknown that frames the minds of those alive. 
          
          therefore, allow the haze to remain where it is; as it is. like the sun that comes through an undefined sky, there will come in your path a fulfilling blessing. until then, hold your hand open to the mess, let it be itself and paint your mind with its pattern. 
          
          some blessings are unseen, and they reside like the hidden roots of a tree in the vastness of what remains unperceivable to the heart. let the haze cloud over you, let it be free. 
          
          there is more often than not satisfaction beyond description in being a prisoner. not everything has a plain explanation. there is in the prison a little more of life that you can experience. 
           #adropofhumanity

adropofhumanity

a small token of kindness (12th August 2021) 
          
          is it funny that the sun rises each day- in a ring of melancholy at first- but eventually feels its nerves brighten up with the view of moist earth? when it can merely be at the lowest, somewhere in the sky- like the buried- and be bothered least about the whining clouds. 
          
          somehow its senses are tickled by the chrysanthemums, and the lilis decorate its shine in a clinging dress. the soil lets the tears of dew to their surface aligns itself to the body of the large celebrity- in hopes of drying up their past. 
          
          the moon floats to the top of the sky, higher and higher as it can swim. albeit it is tiny, the size of a human palm- to find it beat the well of sky and fight the current of its water- only to flop on its stomach and be goofy with the earth is life. 
          
          surely, there must be somewhat a thing of interest in this land we most vehemently loathe. 
          
          definitely, there must be something of a forever in this messy group of existences, that the moon drags itself to the furthest end of its place to enjoy. 
          
          every day, hour and even minute, the sky you possibly do not even take into consideration watches your movements and takes pride in its silly observations. it finds on this planet what it is ashamed to convey through its weak language of stars and the bubbly clouds- a sort of poem it sits to fill its mouth up with.
          
          and it is through such a firm set of actions that everyday conclusions become eternal in memory. then they ne'er occur again- at least not in the same frame of events. 
          
          these immortals get passed on through words and descriptions, not lives or deaths. 
          
          in you too, there is something a little more eternal than your flesh, that has been present always. no wonder the sun and the moon hold you tenderly, and you should, simultaneously, breathe more strongly to understand that to live is not a sin or a lie. 
           #adropofhumanity

adropofhumanity

a small token of kindness (11th August 2021)
          
          it is apparent that the sun- being such a profound source of wellness- cannot speak. it is softer than the floors of a forest and quieter than the home of its ancestors. 
          
          in addition, the moon too- in its flame of glory- has nothing to share at all, except for the light it borrows. there are stars; with hues of dark blues and mellow oranges, with shades of a particular type, yet their communication is the faintest. and some days, they are inert, and exist no more than forced dots. 
          
          the air then, what purpose does it serve than fill up organs like balloons and leaves like paintings with colours? yet it speaks. with its force, with its scent, with its nothingness and most of the times, it carries the universe with it; wrapped in a woolen cardigan, soaked in the death of its tiny inhabitants. 
          
          the more opulent things in life are incapable of being talked about. 
          
          the sky has no tongue that can dictate the ingredients from the vessel of its heart. the sun has only but a mere hours of shine. the moon, pitifully, has just some costume-like light. and the air, absolutely nothing, with no presence or being. 
          
          but they do impact. 
          
          the tongue- although free to slip and run- has been prisoned between one's mind and heart. it serves the purpose of wings for a human; after all, how many a time has it flown and corrupted the masses? 
          
          therefore- while it does carry the waves of the ocean and the tropicals of the forests- it is the death of most things unseen. 
          
          it is what can break a heart- physically, like throwing a vase of flowers against granite- and not use a thing except your tongue for it. which is what can cause a hurricane in someone's life and which is how you can bury a murdered soul without a suspicious glance. 
          
          it is right to say then, that, freedom of the tongue is good, but like the wings that cannot soar past the sky, the beak of flesh too should be imprisoned with a limit. 
           #adropofhumanity

adropofhumanity

a small token of kindness (10th August 2021) 
          
          everyday the sun sneeks lazily into the sky; however with a face of marked difference each day. some hours to its body clings a mask of its own shadow for it longs to be not left to the sky alone. other days it fears to be seen by the ones who cast upon it a farewell glance and fly closer and nearer to it thereafter. and then, every once in a while, it wishes to hinder its existence and stop bruising those under it with its harsh demeanour. 
          
          likewise, under the guardianship of the sun, the moon takes form; here again, the phases speak for it enough. 
          
          its craters are poignantly sharp and they sting it with a mean frown for which reason it rises only as a half. other times, the sun guards authority upon its light and refuses to share the neccesary amount; thus only a quarter of its body is noticed. 
          
          the changes- no matter how trivial- make the day a little unlike those that have passed. 
          
          wake up early if you must but delay not in sensing the air in your chest during the early hours of life. peel the sun's rays and escape to its silver lines. tear down the earth below your feet and find yourself amidst the granules that you step upon without a thought. in your mind, let alone a corner for the moon to make notes for it is in need of a dark shade away from the sky; somewhere better welcomed, an area too personal.
          
          it is not a piece of new knowledge that you have abandoned your days and nights like a rotten flower, unnecessary to be tamed. the thought of growth has begun to haunt you in your soul, and even through your ribcage. 
          
          forget the regulations, there is a world beyond it. watch with squinted eyes and a palpitating heart, there are little stars you miss out on. 
          
          the more you take life for granted, the lesser it appreciates you. 
          
          besides, you have died a little yesterday, you will die a little tomorrow, so why not live today; only a little, with little? 
           #adropofhumanity

adropofhumanity

a small token of kindness (8th August 2021)
          
          when the sun rises above the seas- lost a bit within the clouds and a bit in sleep- the sky takes it for itself. it bears its crown like a drop of blood on a fingertip, preciously and protectively. 
          
          then the clouds, no matter their age and symmetry, are in synchrony with the paler and the deeper shades of poetry etched in the fine crooks of the sky. which they fill. with a little blood of theirs. 
          
          finally, the universe- oh, the hopes it shields. 
          
          it has a firm grasp upon the planets and the larger bodies- like the ocean floor that the earth has laid down upon itself like a blanket- while the stars and the comets, it leaves to the space- to the air, to the motionless- to swim. 
          perhaps this is the sweeter side of death- an illusion of the forgetfulness of one's self in itself. 
          
          there is a universe flowing through the darkness of your veins. anachronistic and bold- you will find a home for the dried chokes of your throat and the salted drops of the bygone. there is a place for the sophisticated waves of your ocean and for the rageful desert where you are senselessly burning. 
          
          you and the universe are the sanest paradoxes- alive but dead. 
          
          do not let the crowd deceive you. stay awake in your own place and keep away from visiting others'. those who have the ability to accept and adhere will step in at the right moments, but in the meantime, you are desired to stay put, in your own home. 
          
          for, God forbid, if you walk away further than required- for that is what the humankind aims for- you may forget the way or even worse, the scent of your home. 
           #adropofhumanity

adropofhumanity

a small token of kindness (6th August 2021) 
          
          i have at times, pondered over the sun; with a soft talk and steel eyes. and the moon, i may have gotten drunk in it; for i had most certainly and very unbelievably held it by my sleeve and consumed its wounds with my bruised tips.
          
          and later, my experience broke to me that it had vanished; somewhere to the woods, some place away from my warmth. 
          
          the sun, the moon, your heart and light all are present somewhere beyond the length of your arm; like escaped convicts living but with their shadows entirely alone, in the dense but somewhat alive earth. 
          
          like an iridescent flame, like the bulb of June that glows with power, like the shawl of a seashore that wraps the hurt with salt- they purify the air; make it livable and latticed with fragrance. 
          
          they are far, but present. and perhaps that is what outlines their importantance. they seldomly drop close to the earth. they ought to not, for it is better they stay out of human reach. 
          
          tell me; how many a soul have you killed? how many a heart you have spoiled? without touching. 
          
          so what then would be the case if you could possibly hold them in your palms? 
          crush them; like the flower you had intoxicated with your false trust, like the bird that was consoled with lust and the bleeding womb that you have betrayed. 
          
          far off- where your blood drenched fingers cannot stain them with murder- they are better. their love from a distance is all that you befit. and they are better- without their eyes getting clogged with your disgusting skin. 
          
          this is who we are; this is what we are like. 
          
          and so, do you know what God did with our heart? kept them protected in a cage where our desire-laced tongues and wretched minds cannot reach. 
          
          yet this poor organ dies. like everything innocent. but it is better off caged in our ribs, like the sun is by the sky. 
           #adropofhumanity

adropofhumanity

a small token of kindness (3rd August 2021)
          
          have you ever witnessed the rainbows? the mosaic of colours painting a blush upon the pale cheeks of the sky? 
          
          i trust the sky is radiantly teary and heavy with the quotidian gloom. there is in the fog an enchantment and in the thousand agonies of the clouds the tales of those who had bragged to soar in their dreams forever. 
          
          for mad it maybe, but it only has been aware of misfortune and upon misfortune it has fed. to such an extent infact, that it burns a bit each passing day in order to find the blue to stay awake. 
          
          and then, when the rain has imprisoned it and has fed it a little of death from one end and eternity from another, does the somber appearance of a rainbow happens.
          
          it is a souvenir with a feather-like kiss, soft and unbelievable to exist. with a hue that blinds it with bliss, with a glow that caresses sweetly the violence in it. 
          
          this rainbow draws upon the sky a blush of life; a bit of a miracle, a sort of an inconvenient gesture. 
          
          but surely, there is a reason as to why they share such a delicate bond that feels alive for merely a few minutes and gently, cautiously, blend into one another; never to be separated, never to be told again as two different foundations. 
          
          in life, you shall come across several people; each with an exquisite blend of the earth. they leave behind some of their days and hours in you and change your perception to something finer, something more of perfection. 
          
          thus, you must be cautious and let in wisely. for people may leave but they do not die in you. instead they cause your own death in turn. 
          
          because all we ask for in this life is not the heavens, but a little less of the hellfire. 
           #adropofhumanity

adropofhumanity

a small token of kindness (2nd August 2021)
          
          the sun and the moon have cautiously bred me to comfort and solitude ever so often but today they seemed to have left me and my heart of desires to their relations. 
          
          and so it is, with a mouth full of buried doubts, i ask you: have you ever seen the mountains? 
          
          no, i have not. but i have been taken to explore them, or rather their roots, by the air that had me confined in its madness. because who would dare to skim the nervous tips of their soft skin against the hard that had withstood even its lovers? 
          
          of what good is a pile of ancient grief around the life that buzzes with bees and flourishes under the enslavement of rain? 
          
          it is a statue that depicts the power of sadness, grievance and objection. the more a human bears the burden of rocks upon his shoulders, the stronger he becomes and thereby more capable. 
          
          it is a lonely ride to the top though, with little air to breathe and lesser rest. however, it is filled with a magnetic touch that empowers the settlers to keep walking and taking steps. it provides a freedom such that one's names will be pronounced with command, with respect and with eyes that swim nervously from a side to another upon the mention. 
          
          such privileges are rare to be found. grief too chooses those who find it worthwhile and personable.
          
          never will anyone sit and see through the haze with you. the impairment of vision will kill them enough to even paralyse their smile and flee. 
          
          and such is the tale of the warriors who walk alone. 
          
          the best soldiers lead on their own while nobody understands but beg to follow. 
          
          for being understood enslaves one with a certain responsibility and to risk the blood to read a heart takes courage; therefore to have no-one understand you is a cloud of opportunity; with little falls that feel like a gift of grief. 
           #adropofhumanity