wounds for harvest.

words inspired from events transpired.
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all true but they expire
in ink but they disappear

in the heat of things.

words that know no past
nor recognize the future

only acquaint with the present

today will grab your heart
tomorrow spit in your ears
and yesterday, deny it happened.

watching temples bleed
while chimneys retch
ashes into the summer sky

these wisps of darkness
obscure the sun
only few rays escaping lie

stabbing the clouds
that spit their spiteful rain
on wasted breath and cracking knees

the efforts of the climb in vain
and the descent a tragedy.

no one puts on a mask like you do;
we all withhold some sort of truth
of how we love and think and feel;
they do not stay long as true.

no one puts on a mask like you do;
we do not bask in malicious rot
nor wear it as a cheshire smile;
resentful child thy heart so vile. 

no one puts on a mask like you do;
and take pride in such deception;
as you tire from the lies you sell,
the more of filth, the stench will tell.

longing hands stretch
towards her porcelain skin;
fingers caress screen.

Born at the base
enslaved to the hive 
they nursed our minds
watered till we’re five.

Led by their grip 
our hands were raised
but they scarcely noticed; 
only held them in place.

They tethered our brains
to their narrow mouths trained 
to speak of good and evil
as though they held the gavel.

But we climbed higher
as they pulled harder
and with words of weight
we struck their chains.

Arriving at the peak
a wide view from the ridge
and with all accounted for
we’re captive minds no more.


"Why We Shout In Anger"

A Hindu saint and his disciples were visiting the Ganges river, where they found a group of family members on the banks shouting in anger at each other. Turning to his disciples, the saint smiled and asked, 'Why do people in anger shout at each other?’

His disciples thought for a while. One of them finally said, ‘Because when we lose our calm, we shout.’

'But, why should you shout when the other person is just next to you?' countered the saint. 'You can just as well tell him what you have to say in a soft manner.' His disciples thought about it some more, but could not come up with a satisfactory answer. Finally the saint explained, 

'When two people are angry at each other, their hearts distance a lot. To cover that distance they must shout to be able to hear each other. The angrier they are, the stronger they will have to shout to hear each other, in order to cover that great distance. 

But what happens when two people fall in love? They don’t shout at each other but instead talk very softly because their hearts are very close. The distance between them is either nonexistent or very small. And when they love each other even more, what happens? They do not speak, only whisper and they get even closer to each other in their love. Finally they even need not whisper, they only need to look at each other and that’s all. That is how close two people are when they love each other. 

So when you argue, do not let your hearts get distant, do not say words that distance each other more, or else there will come a day when the distance is so great that you will not find the path to return.’

making one fall 
on his own spear

a simple utter
of “faith” and “honour”

no blood fell 
upon the breath of those words

but what they meant
was soaked in its curds

and so he went
in accordance to their word.


When life knocks you down, stand up, keep trying and never give up.

and then kick life where it hurts the most.

(via japanesepractice)

a fair maiden’s hand in winter
is the warmth that beckons spring
along snowy roads and the chilling breeze
the sweet scent of plum blossoms bring.

I yearn to hold the maiden’s hand
for her warmth is what I seek
no summer heat nor spring day
will warm my heart as she.

trail of dirt and sand
was evergreen grass before;
trample on, deviant.