The Midnight Werewoman

Once upon a nightmare,
Under the oak tree,
Gazing the October sky,
Painted darker than black,
I flumped onto the blood-red ground beneath me,
Oozing melancholy of my gifted wounds,
Asalia tears betraying my iris-coloured iris,
And falling down on my lonely scintilla.
The cold breeze ruffling through my grey furs,
The rust lining my spine,
The blackened sharp nails with bits of flesh,
My intangible ugly halo shining bright.
The darkness of this light hurts me,
What am I?
The screaming pain in my bones,
Every full moon,
Splitting my soul, one by two,
And every time,
The tinted truth in the glow of this darkness,
Petrifies me, haunts me,
The slices of life, smeared with death around me,
The instant burning rage,
When I switch into this animal,
Failing to realise,
The shrieking mistakes,
The apologies lodged in my throat,
The wailing human soul of mine,
Through crevices in my heart,
Can I still be forgiven?
This isn’t my choice,
It’s the nature’s imprisonment to me,
The waning hues each time.
The lone wolf in me is still breathing,
Weary and frazzled,
Curled up in her furs,
My human side struggling to take over now,
Waiting for the Night’s final veil,
Perhaps, it’s over for tonight,
As I see the sun rising,
I notice my white skin coming back,
I’m human now,
Till the next full moon,
Once upon another nightmare,
A werewolf and her hopeless despair.
            
-Manu

IF I POETISE A MOTHER..

Eyes that shine with experience,
Wrinkled lines on the forehead,
Subtle and solemn face
that hides fears,
And Smile of a silly teenager.
Eyelashes wet with worries,
Some silvery hair strands waving out,
Endless prayers of well being,
She recites
And sole responsibility of hers,
She believes,
To seed happiness into lives of loved.
O! Maybe the angel itself has taken birth
In human form,
To set free the mortals
From worldly tribulations.
Indeed She is a mother.

What’s a world without the gentle caressing of a mother….?

She’s the one who shows the least pain when we fell and have a wound. She hides her worries for you. She is the one who stays up late just so you could complete your studying for the examination next day

When you grow up in a teenager, she deals with your new grumpy side where you say idiotic things to her, she never even take those words and stick to them and be mad at you for your whole life. Still she is the one who helps us when we have an emotional side up on.

And when you do grow into a beautiful woman or a handsome man, she gets filled up in pride and watches you carry out your life as perfectly as she aspired.

In and all, she spends her whole life growing you and then when she leaves this world, she is all satisfied and contented as she completed as sole responsibility.

A little tribute to our mothers.

THE FORGIVEN BETRAYAL

Oh! When the heart flutters with the beats of love, it’s the most serene feeling in this universe. But what anyone can do when the love of your life is the reason for your existence, and is taken from you or betrays you. you couldn’t just put that love behind and move on,can you?

The love never dies and so does your feelings. If by any chance you’ve got to know that your love was not the one who betrayed you, but the destiny did, you want your lifeline to hold you when you count your last breaths.

Oh! This feeling!!!!! It takes my senses to another level….

Presenting you this piece of mine….to say the above in some woven words…

THE FORGIVEN BETRAYAL

Oh! The light of faith has gone
And the serene blindness in it,
Warmth of the hearts dulled
Have icy questions in it…
The silken thread of trust
Is somehow, broken,
And the feathery feelings
Are now, just a token…
The pious love never gets faded
Though,
Wails with the tears of betrayal,
And stands still on that trail
where the hearts met…
Ablazes everytime,
when the lost time flashes in the mind.
But flies in heaven,
When relives the moments;
Yes! Those one of a kind….
On the deathbed,
The last wish is to hold hands,
The warmth would return,
The cracks of heart would heal…
Peaceful smile on the lips
with the touch of beloved,
And the eyes would close,then
Forever,
As everything’s now,forgiven….
                                                    -MANU


PERHAPS | POEM

Premise
The possibilities of the livings drives them forward. With all the heart wrenching predicaments of life, they still breath, they still live it to the fullest…

Only in the glimmer of hopes…..the sparkles of probabilities….the happy ones, the fulfilling ones…All the hardships seems dwarf when the canvas of life projects beautiful prospects of future…

Especially to the ones which struggle to get mouthful of food….the shattered huts and the smelling arenas tell their stories of wrenched life….Still the poor lives…the eyes search for just one flicker of hope….flames of possibilities..

Here’s a piece to magnify this feeling….

“PERHAPS

Perhaps the armour of the poor
is just a myth…
Endless sufferings
And
Deep scratches on the soul,
Yes indeed, it’s a rippling lie…
The flashy cards flared up
and the hollow promises,
The deprived eyes
and the questioning faces,
The sunken cheeks
which not blushes pink,
The chapped lips,
Far from being scarlet.
The lost smiles
and the tarnished thoughts,
No cloudy dreams,
In vicious cycle, they’re caught..
Necessities turned into needs
Chirpings into wails,
Knowledge means nothing
And Oh! The ship that never sails..
Perhaps…
Or indeed, if I say,
The dreams of newborn,
In these shattered walls,
would end up in dismay…
Perhaps..


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