veiled beauty💕

a small token token kindness (01st january 2023)  
          
          steadfast sunsets, crooked mornings; lake a crowd of gleaming mournings. lyrics that burn, bones hopeless; tongue of wind, it rarely stays. a future of magma, temple and cityscape; humans among humans, a home bereft. 
          
          a birth that bleeds, a firmament of fleeting wisps; feet smelling of earth, lips a facade, what we appreciate. filigree like rain, a blush of darker reign; summer distorted, desert a burning lace. panaroma of a kaleidoscope, a bard like grackle; pits of doubt and a park of frission. 
          
          jardin de tuileries, seeds of breezes; memory endearments and waves of freedom. satin scents, devoted petals; barricaded branches and canvas of dripping enchantments. convivial music, lily trenchants; reflective denouements, fulgent waterfalls of wisterias. 
          
          violent fears, chalices of secrets; numbing encouragements,  frosted vanilla. oscillating mountains, cloved cessations; tainted vicolos, bricks of dried redolences. parasols of petrichor, labyrinth of moonflowers; tower of desire, rose precipices. keep a smile, with flowers divine; they grow not on well made roads but through the rough womb of mother earth. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness (07th november 2022) 
          
          patterns on palms and paws, warriors of lost tears; smears and sunlight immersed in veins; water and wax, both who prick sins. mind the bashful door, the silhouettes of skins unfurnished; freedom is only if the streets are not crowded with regret. 
          
          ports of integrity and boats of grace; rain a moon that reverberates, a storm and wings with their own mind. condemn the sky and its fingers of silver syllables; what cannot hold blood can only ever be vacant. 
          
          secure the horizon, wash the world with ancient rhymes; hang the throat by its heart. song of canaries, struggling cabarets; they say nature is weak where footprints are dense. here is the hand, the hand of reckoning; sometimes stalwart beneath abyss. 
          
          tides crash into limbs, limbs of salt and tsunamis; hope dragged in a slipstream, gratitude weather worn, vehement. find me in seas and mysteries; lock your eyes with the breathless cerulean. be it silly or be it the law; do not water a thorn hoping it will grow as a rose. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness [16th june 2022] 
          
          meshes of moon scattered on the lake, a poet's grave; a wildfire graceful and kissed by rain. 
          soaked youth in yellow twigs; in boots and noons of malicious spring. 
          sweet as chocolate, bitterness subdued; what is this spring but a death that lures? 
          hands of maidens with cherry blossoms, a cure to the eye and a disease to what lays hidden; mind and magic to the world, a golden lung to the forgotten ones. 
          filled with temper, a baby breath against a caterpillar; white linen doused with earth's cold summer. 
          
          part and pardon, wish and risk; a heart that is prisoned in a cage is not worth a heart that battles. 
          lotuses carved on sour tongues, in places of disasters, of deceit; in cities of citrus. 
          place thy feet in armours of cherries, melted crystals and awakened violins. 
          saccharine sea bulbs, choruses of rainbow dancing as a wizard; aiming for the stars, wrists cuffed by freedom. 
          berries smeared with passionate blood, with nutmeg wounds and hazelnut deaths.
          fill the bowl of the ocean, fill it to the brim; what it lacks is present in drops put into humans. 
          what is motherless requires not a different earth; kindness changes not people, but reveals their raw flesh. 
          
          [kindness does not change people; it reveals their raw flesh, their real identity] 
           #adropofhumanity 
          
          

a small token of kindness (09th june 2022) 
          
          mourning shades, earth a rustic moon; candle soldiers, sunset roars. glass of wind, a sea that chimes; struggling lungs, alveoli of pride. circles sacred, birds and barks; persistent melodies, life a screaming scar. half of ourselves, half of earth; skeptical rules and societal lusts. 
          
          summer lightning and thunderous rainbows, yesterday's reflection in today's waters. blooming trains and grieving whistles; gravity a fork, humans fixated. ripening fruit like a sturdy kettle, boiling season as a cloudless friend. 
          
          birds of the night, mediterranean lungs; lace of glory, air a crochet undone. toes of rhythm, seventh sense; sweetness of earth's roots, pears engraved as tendrils in veins. brightness of fog, of a breath fuzzy; life in the woman's womb, a universe- like history. life blurry, a home of shadows; night, death and the womb, bringers of awakeness. 
           #adropofhumanity 
          
          (do not fear the dark; we came from it, we came from wombs) 

a small token of kindness (3rd November 2021) 
          
          the coat of night is cloaked with crimson dust, the morning dew a signature of its blooming ashes. when the sun awakens, there is an ancient rhyme that spreads; far from irises, free from eclipses. 
          
          moths relinquish in the deserted divinity, life a segment of luxury and wellness. winters brace the emptiness, the soul's hand caresses the twigs of aged pain. skies are dampened with a half of the earth's oceans and the three thousand tears that collide with the moon; like its shadow that glides over the sunflower. 
          
          the brush of baby breaths against the buried memories is similar to the walk of the widow; laden with heaviness irrespective of the bad or good in them. to forget the last summer is a tragedy, to lean into it a forced responsibility. 
          
          where there is monstrosity, there is awareness. everything right is in simplicity; the world a mesh of celebrated complications. crevasses exist, fear a dynamic of every body. what we are most afraid of we must become in order to earn a stature of equilibrium. 
          
          to breathe, one must set aside the burden of living. allow life to be fueled with little. relief is found in emptiness, in nakedness, in raw depth. 
          
          like the sun that chooses to appreciate the littleness of the Earth, we must allow our hearts to explore the chaos of garnet and grapevines. for after all, have our hearts not been moulded but to be little glass ochres of residual sunsets? 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness (9th October 2021) 
          
          there is so much in us and so much we can be, like the cosmos that has been under servitude and the black hole that consumes it. there is within the sun a similar attitude; it walks the cobblestone lanes with eyes of the deceased. melted paints it wants to embellish upon the stars and pluck out the shine of its rays to decorate the leaves of autumn. 
          
          the earth moves solemnly, under the strict awareness of the watchful crowd, and it breaths yellow marigolds in hopes of being surrounded by a tree of hope. in it, on it, everywhere around it; lack of appropriate loneliness. sheer visibility of the city lights, blindness to the one from the heavens above the sky.
          
          what an agony, what a pain. jewellery like ice slitting the throat. flowers boiled in acid. the world a place of slaughter. 
          
          life is one, but lives within it many. if we choose to go beyond the doomed number, we exhaust to dust. ankles tied with ropes of responsibilities and hands with households. where rivalry thrives, it is a place of legends. the kind which carries sins and buries the oppressed. 
          
          however what of those who defy the rules? of those who, regardless of the consequences, accept war? 
          they become the kissable sea, the immortal air, the glorious sky and the soft universe.
          
          be the sun, the stars and the sky all together. if they admire you from afar, it is because they each see themselves in you.
           #adropofhumanity 
          

a small token of kindness (7th October 2021) 
          
          the sun is a relative of the old- which associated with the scarves of the dried flowers of the gone days. it has lived through jolts of dreams and eyes that held terror of desperation. the lives that lived only upon the preface of the rays, making a temporary home out of fire. 
          
          and what can be said about the moon except that seldom has it lightened its own path. it has and continues to work for the waves; the blades of which are as sharp as the flamingo's stare. it appears, it flourishes but feels foolish and stupid. it is never there by free will and is pitied upon by the sun's flames. decades upon decades of sacrifice for nothing but a few moments of pleasant lingering.
          
          the sun and the ocean are beautiful standstills; like time that has tasted oaks and horns and like seasons of dare coarsing through sorrows. they hold much; they bury misty breaths and golden glares, and they cherish the crippled yellow leaves like revenge. 
          
          but one must accept that beauty is heavy; a burden like the crisp October that balances between summer and winter. and one must stand still, hold onto elements of protection, the scabbed bits of dressed wounds. 
          
          everything beautiful is terrifying. perfection is wild; the ocean a spectacular depiction. all that which has been cursed by the needle of beauty, has used the thread of terror. perfection dies, what remains are the details. the scabs, the scars, the fine lines of torture evident upon the palette.
          
          perhaps the sun is feared for the very reason. for the love it serves and the fire that it can kill with its venom. 
          
          how else can beauty be perceived? it is common to both life and death and apparent alike in a human's blood and sweat. 
           #adropofhumanity 
          

a small token of kindness (3rd October 2021) 
          
          at times, the sun appears cuffed to the sky, as though a sin. albeit he is fulfilling his role, one cannot help but be channeled through the emotion that perhaps it is forced after all; by virtue of the role it had been bathed in. it remains paralysed, within itself, cornered by the overwhelming hunger of the rich sky to feed on its soul. 
          
          and the moon, when it glimmers constantly, defying the rules of time, how many atoms of integrity does it lose? in the balcony we think and see it reclines, but how many an hour can one sit, sipping on tea and watching the world of abyss? 
          
          if the kites were never to fall back to your hands, and the daffodils were to be away from the tips of your heart, and the dusty gate would be garnered with strings of chaotic clouds, and if different sunsets did not circle around your hair, playing with the strands like the rays of falling stars; then what form of alive do you call it? 
          
          the sky, therefore, allows the celestial beings their right to exist and mourn. somewhere away from eyes, somewhere beyond the horizon, of which place no one is aware. they dangle upon a swing like the feathers of a wing that soar and water the plants in the clouds' lines. 
          
          if these large objects take their desired rests, why should you not? let go of responsibilities, leave them to the winds. carry your heart silently in your arms, allow it a breath. it has swam many an ocean, let it drown now for a bit.
           #adropofhumanity 
          

a small token of kindness (2nd October 2021) 
          
          the sun remembers, i heard. it has witnessed the life and death, it has been through them. it has watched the colours grow venemous with sea salt; with the broken pieces of those who have succumbed to pain. 
          
          if you watch the sea, it is never at one place. it is rather lost, rather in space. how many a word has it swallowed, has dropped to its deepest self and kept it hushed from the winds? 
          
          however, have you watched the winds? throw whatever your heart desires, it carries on. moves anywhere, but the present. at times, the past is graced, then after, the future embraced. 
          
          like trees, uprooted, we stand. we fall. we watch with eyes, but never with feet. we kiss the deer, we process the river, but do we find glee? 
          
          we have rooted our minds to the screens, but not to the little pebbles underneath the shores. where does one find passion; within lives or within forests? 
          
          come way may, move. sweat is forever, but without pain, where is its value? remain alive, remain dark. there is nothing more impuissantly powerful than the world of the horrible. if you must, stand still at times. memorize the days that repeat, the days that you had lived. remind then, the purpose feet serve. 
          
          gather a little of the gentle heat of August; a sign of the sun that changes. capture it in a sentiment, in a sharp tool. if needs must, slash your skin and let the reminder awaken your distracted blood. 
          
          if the seasons move, so must you. if the shores are many, you must taste them all. if grave is one, taste many deaths. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness (29th September 2021) 
          
          far from the barricades of limits and upon the ocean of buried miracles, there was a roar; a cry of despair, a mourning of the blood that was left stuck under the nail. 
          
          there was once a nation that had sat under the sky, fantasising about the round ball of happy energy until the word light was born in them. and they remained loyal to their positions until the moon's blessed curves seduced them. they realised that the white counterpart could be named as moon- something that seduced travellers just enough to find their ways. 
          
          no name, no moral, no frame came about without contemplation. no man, no game, no space existed without a question or a pang of doubt. no history, no rules, no legacies came about without venom in the eyes of the travellers and tulips in the smiles of the oppressors. 
          
          you thrive upon an ocean of buried miracles and roar. some succumbed to death whilst on a search for it. perhaps you and i have grown unaware; timidly and poorly unaware, pitifully and helplessly. 
          
          where you stand, you rule. eyes cannot perceive but there is life underneath. the more you familiarise yourself with your identity, the better the exhibition of power.
          
          steal your time and the complexity of the universe. the moon sits in a satin gown, dripping with tragic glow. use it, burn with it, light up the ground like fireworks in the sky. 
          
          the sun has been brightening your life for years, but tell me, did you really ever find its light? you shall have to find it, even if you were born with it. you will also have to find life, though you are born with it. 
           #adropofhumanity