Scars

Scars they are,

Scars that are left behind.

Scars of victory,

Scars of love,

Scars of pain,

Scars of guilt,

Scars that remind you of a time,

that can never come back,

of time that has tested everything,

the love that bloomed and faded,

the glory that was earned and lost,

the gain that was laced with pain

and healed with time.

the rain that poured heavily and dampened the spirits,

the sun that rose and set to rise again,

the birds that left at every dusk

and the solitude you made peace with,

the people who came into your life,

for a purpose, for a lesson, for whatever

and chose to leave sooner or later.

Scars they are,

that remind you of good and evil,

loss and attainment,

life and death,

Scars that stay whether or not you want them to,

Scars that refuse to fade away with time,

Scars that keep reminding you what you are,

and make you ponder what you will be,

Scars that have become a part of life,

whether you want them to be or not,

Scars that we have accepted and surrendered to,

just like an alter soul that cannot be detached in a lifetime or more.

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Hidden

She sits there with a half-smile,

Listening to him or pretending to listen.

Wonder what she is trying to conceal.

Would that smile fade away from there,

Or bloom into a wider curve.

I could never say, and I will never guess.

Her eyes looking at him,

While not looking at all.

Wonder what that stare hides,

Will it rise to pray or look down upon rejection?

I would never attempt to comprehend.

I see no anger in them, nor any trace of sadness.

The moment has paused there,

And I don’t know if its love,

Or a striving desire to belie.

She looks neither old, nor young.

The charm lingers every now and then,

Before deserting and pervading the face again.

She speaks, and I can’t hear what it is,

Because life goes on, the world doesn’t pause ever.

The restaurant is buzzing with people, walking past us,

And each table has a story to tell.

Stories that eyes tell eyes.

Stories that can be read on faces.

Stories that make you ponder.

Stories that create memories to retain.

Stories that kill the passing time.

And stories that remind me of you,

While I sit here alone.

Because you never came,

And I know, you never will.

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Write

When a memory wants to speak to you, write
When a dream wants to be unveiled, write
When your childhood wants to be relived, write
When adulthood takes its toll, find sometime to write
When the fear in you wants to explode, write
When the anger suppressed refuses to dwindle, write
When the love inside you mumbles, write
When hatred spreads its venom, write
When everything with in and around you finds words, write, just write ...

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