She waited for a very long time, just to let out the words she always wanted to say. They kept heaping up inside her, singing and dancing. One day, all the moments she had been waiting for, forever, vanished in the air, like a dream. In the end, she had to kill all those words she had given birth to at once and bury them together, inside her. That graveyard was the biggest and saddest place anyone had ever witnessed. - Akshay Vasu Graveyard of words. #graveyard #words #akshayvasu #quotes #poems #dream #forever #sing #dance #she #pain

Graveyard of words. #graveyard #words #akshayvasu #Quotes #poems #Dream #forever #sing #Dance #She #Pain

She waited for a very long time, just to let out the words she always wanted to say. They kept heaping up inside her, singing and dancing. One day, all the moments she had been waiting for, forever, vanished in the air, like a dream. In the end, she had to kill all those words she had given birth to at once and bury them together, inside her. That graveyard was the biggest and saddest place anyone had ever witnessed.

- Akshay Vasu Graveyard of words.

#graveyard #words #akshayvasu #quotes #poems #dream #forever #sing #dance #she #pain

पूर्वार्थ

DREAMS AND GRAVEYARDS The past is somewhat like a graveyard, Whether those we visit there bring happiness or sorrow we can do no more than look, One directional conversations and a paralyzing realization that the end is real and that it has happened is what we are offered, There is a familiarity in the feeling of fingers clawing at our chest, Clawing to fight this distant pain they know they can never reach, The tears we wish could roll back because we know this kind of salt doesn't heal wounds, We keep getting lost at the crossroads of things we wish we hadn't done, the things we wish we had done and the things we wish we had done better, Eventhough we made those crossroads and have walked them many times before, It's a futile routine that comes with a pinch of amnesia so we don't quite remember its futility when we repeat it, But I don't suppose anyone could say they've done different, How could one deny that the past is a drug that has permanent residence in our blood, That we are all addicts of some sort, The regret, nostalgia, memories, ruins...the pain, So why then do we keep coming back? Do we not know we can't breath life into bone? That we are resented by these graves for standing above them? That we disturb their peace as much as they do ours? We don't belong there any more than the past belongs in the present, And so the question forms itself, How many years must we spend on spent years? ©पूर्वार्थ #dream #graveyard

#Dream #graveyard #Poetry

DREAMS AND GRAVEYARDS

The past is somewhat like a graveyard,
Whether those we visit there bring happiness or sorrow
we can do no more than look,
One directional conversations and a paralyzing realization that the
end is real and that it has happened is what we are offered,

There is a familiarity in the feeling of fingers clawing at our chest,
Clawing to fight this distant pain they know they can never reach,
The tears we wish could roll back because we know this kind
of salt doesn't heal wounds,
We keep getting lost at the crossroads of things we wish we hadn't
done, the things we wish we had done and the things we
wish we had done better,
Eventhough we made those crossroads and have walked
them many times before,

It's a futile routine that comes with a pinch of amnesia so
we don't quite remember its futility when we repeat it,
But I don't suppose anyone could say they've done different,
How could one deny that the past is a drug that has permanent
residence in our blood,
That we are all addicts of some sort,
The regret, nostalgia, memories, ruins...the pain,

So why then do we keep coming back?
Do we not know we can't breath life into bone?
That we are resented by these graves for standing above them?
That we disturb their peace as much as they do ours?
We don't belong there any more than the past belongs in the present,
And so the question forms itself,
How many years must we spend on spent years?

©पूर्वार्थ #dream
#graveyard

PФФJД ЦDΞSHI

सोए है कई लोग graveyard मे यानि कब्रिस्तान मे, जहाँ लोग कम भटकते हैं बस साल मे एक बार आ फूल रख,candle जला आते हैं, यही लोग जब जिन्दा थे तो क्या धाक रही होंगी पर अब क़ोई नहीं पूछ रहा जीते जी ही अपने सब शौक पूरे कर लो पुन्य जमा कर लो जाने कब मौत आ जाए तो यही अच्छे क़ाम आपके क़ाम आऐगे ज़िन्दगी के रहते भी और ज़िन्दगी खत्म होने के बाद भी... ©PUJA UDESHI #Jindagi #graveyard

#Jindagi #graveyard #विचार

Mahed Sadia

Graveyards, The word that brings fright. But not to everyone.. People's bodies don't really die.. The soul of the dead never lies. Waiting for their loved ones years are gone.. The soul is tired and worn for too long. But still they wait for people some, till time has forever hung..... Graveyard.. #athisgrave

Graveyard.. #athisgrave

Graveyards,
The word that brings fright.
But not to everyone..
People's bodies don't really die..
The soul of the dead never lies.
Waiting for their loved ones years are gone..
The soul is tired and worn for too long.
But still they wait for people some, till time has forever hung..... Graveyard..
#athisgrave

Somya Katiyar

Resting silently over there; with many tears and much more hustle and bustle when mine soul peeped out, it was nothing else but the final destination which they called: "MY GRAVEYARD" where- Some were weeping while other's were lying, probably it was hard for them to believe that yes; finally I left them with: "A SMILE" and ironically- The flowers which I hate(rose) were kept all around me to reduce the soul's weight, infact those who never knew me; now are eagerly asking for the reason of mine sudden "DEMISE" there- Lovers were complaning to my resting body why I have left them alone, the soul hugged and promised to drop them daily home; while haters were scrubbing the scripts over that: "STONE" Yes it was nothing else but a small house permanently made for me with many stones, which they now called: "MY GRAVEYARD" Graveyard #raindrops

Graveyard #raindrops #Life_experience

Resting silently over there;
with many tears and much more hustle and bustle
when mine soul peeped out,
it was nothing else but the
final destination which they called:
"MY GRAVEYARD"
where-
Some were weeping while
other's were lying,
probably it was hard for them
to believe that yes;
finally I left them with:
"A SMILE"
and ironically-
The flowers which I hate(rose)
were kept all around me
to reduce the soul's weight,
infact those who never knew me;
now are eagerly asking for the reason of mine sudden
"DEMISE"
there-
Lovers were complaning to my resting body
why I have left them alone,
the soul hugged and
promised to drop them daily home;
while haters were scrubbing
the scripts over that:
"STONE"

Yes it was nothing else but a small house permanently made for me with many stones,
which they now called:
"MY GRAVEYARD" Graveyard

#raindrops

Akshay Vasu

She kept visiting the graveyard of her memories until she learned to grow the flowers there. ©Akshay Vasu Visiting the graveyard #she #akshayvasu #visit #graveyard #memories

Visiting the graveyard #She #akshayvasu #Visit #graveyard #Memories #poem

She kept visiting the graveyard of her memories until she learned to grow the flowers there.

©Akshay Vasu Visiting the graveyard

#she #akshayvasu #visit #graveyard #memories

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