chimes of a forgotten melody

Image prompt from The Mag Underneath the rusted iron, a prowess of illusion remained, The unable driver of the machine remained in awe, Wheels turned towards a virginal meadow, wet from dew, Unheeded balloons that flew from the past settled around, It lifted the machine and made it drift along in the wind, The driver's watch made revolutions towards the past. Balloons, blue in hue, showed him paths to the unknown, He drove in mid air, honked at passing souls, some Blinded by the confusion of death, while some struggled To remove burial dirt that perturbed, even in afterlife! Balloons, red in rage, talked about the life of a wizard Who fell in love with a princess, how he gave her Balloons, red with love, out here in the meadows, Illuminated with light from his shiny new machine. Balloons, black and bleak, overpowered the ride with A fury of emotions. It hit the car towards unruly clouds, Rain and winds swirled the machine, red balloons p...

The search for truth haunted him during sleeps, Life struggled to hang on between hopes and dreams, A plate of ideas never presented itself, Time gradually left spots of grey in his hairs, It left him bewildered, and his thoughts scattered While his cat screeched for air inside the box. Ideas are contagious, obsessions are grave, He was caught unaware between the extremes, Answers clawed into his weary brains, And filled each cell with a resurgence of life. Poison spread evenly inside the box, The screeches of dislike slowly ceased. His tangled life began to relieve, he felt the Sun Shower him with vibrant quarks of love, his dark Lab was left with the fire and light of a distant source, The granter of verve pushed his brains to the limits, With each ray, he felt the unpredictability of life, He felt its supreme beauty, the cat was forgotten. His theory received its tranquil intro, but each Word build itself up towards a poignant revolu...

A plague of disorienting thoughts spread, I loiter beside shores of forgotten life And hopelessly gaze at a drifting horizon, I feel my eyes moisten , maybe at loss Or maybe with a strange paranoia. Let the lives here feel the cold comfort Of my blades. Each disappearing life Enlightens my soul with deep delight, I am a merciless killer, and a granter of Life. The cycle of memories continue. Fresh flowers bloom in my garden, I struggle to smother my fervor, Searching for thorns, I find many, But the beauty of the fresh bud disrupt The spells of agony. I feel the tranquil scent. I keep the flowers beside her grave, I killed her to keep me alive, the Plague keep hauling sands from My shores, eventually, I know, she Would be devoured by the irate seas. And yet, I know, even when The last flower withers off, Her eyes will remain enveloped within my heart, Her smiles shall remain unscathed on my shores, But her memories will go fore...

Photo by Agustin Berrocal Courtesy : The Mag Built vaguely on meticulous ideals, his anxiety Reached frivolous peaks. His tainted lips lost All of its moist red and showed a tinge of lost gray, The muddy vest, half torn by the gruesome times, Was ripped apart by the beast that tasted gold. Hardwork is a friend who guides you to places, Maybe for him, the friend was the only one ever, With him he walked before the Sun shined for him, With him he returned after his daily venture, With non-existent treasures. He would dig and reach the other side of Earth They said, but his insanity was often mistaken For a patience that he ever unearthed. He dug Like a mad man, he even found the bones of A solitary maiden who was buried alive! He dug, this day that year, he would dig, this day Next year, he would have dug in the years to come, Though destiny was buried somewhere close, And eventually he found it too, he took it Home and locked it with th...

From the posters of 'Life of Pi' Mystic monuments hugged together in the fog, Thoughts dismembered into dissimilar notes Of a melancholy Sitar, slowly continued its Relentless echo. Stars sparkled up high, With its calm delight I stepped foot into the dark. A cold spread of algae showed me the way, Winds blew until the shiver shook my walks, When at times it gracefully recede, silence Enveloped the breath of the forest, it tore My heart and unsettled my mind, I doubted. Gracefully, water kissed the meadows that night, A crescent moon rose in the Eastern sky, With its enchanting white, I saw her quiescent eyes, They fixed upon mine. The forest opened itself before, I was left forever with that consuming trance, And walked through delirium into her enthralling gems. Notes Before reading it, see what inspired me to write it. If you really got to know how I felt like when writing it, play this on the background:

First Flight of a Duckling Credits : dailymail.co.uk   Time strikes opportune, Wings, rusted for long, Shall now know the wind's tune, Even before I take the dive, I feel the air, I ride! A leap of faith, Cause my eyes cannot see, An assuring ground below, My wings shake, mind fret, yet I trust! I feel my beaks cutting through, The air is cold, The descent; indecent, The trust; in vain? I wait. I spread my wings, It send shivers, I gasp for a breath and flap, I close my eyes, Cause I cant handle the sight, And with a strange and easy rhythm, I fly!

My School 1.  Loitering sans aim, and watching the drops of rain Deepening the colors of my shirt, takes me Back to an unreachable past where all senses Of me still remain eternally spotless! Days of balancing on slipping railway tracks, Having one hand held firm at the flapping umbrella And the other placed on unyielding shoulders, With an assurance, matchless, and a sanctified Feeling of enlightenment you get once you know life! Now I walk along the same old tracks, The stations where we sat forever, happy, Seems to have grown dusted and alone. A train scurry past, splashing water all about, And the umbrella flies away with me onto the Fearsome winds. I realize for an instant how, Those calm shoulders eased even the fury of nature. 2.  Hunting for chalks beneath teacher's desk, Flinging them merrily at passing girls, We always ended up pointing each other, Memories of love began at warfares, Many would also end with a chill, But we raged on w...

Seas of bottomless blames separates us now, Words of intimacy sinks without effort, The unbridged waters keep us apart, And we glance without a tinge of love. The towering anxiety hurls my thoughts, Abrupt hues of blue fill my color pots, I shall paint your face with my purest hands, But seldom shall it turn into a masterpiece. When each ship keeps moving into the port, I look for your eventual answer, Often I am left behind with a noisy group Passing by, and my hands left unheld.

I. His feet ached with habitual walking, Eyes crumbled as it faced light, Silence transcended from his pale face, It spoke more words than his concealed love! He cursed the omniscient God, Mocked at his discrepant blessings, Blasphemed and inter-coursed. Insanity orbited in his vicinity, Inside it he remained with a stomach, Always left unattended. II. She let the butter-less bread to take flight, Felonious totems spun about, Her frolic laughs echoed with esteem, The cold anomalies of life, went on Without being repressed, while The bread remained in dirt, Before it was swallowed cleanly By the Earth, and its hunger relieved. III. Five trees staged a rebellion in a park, They were denied clean water to drink By the bourgeoisie nature of homo sapiens. They ceased the supply of fruits, Shed all leaves, which cleansed lives, They even broke branches which Sheltered a group of sparrows, The strike never went unnoticed, But all Gods were bribed, And the spar...

Rebirth by Carrie White (Liquid Drop Art) Stories of the globe never begins with birth, Our lives are but a silent prologue to a show, Which is an imperative destiny; we dance to The tunes of nature only at our deathbed! The horizon of existence never ends, whilst Our perplexed soul sees curtains fall, it is Only for another chapter to be presented forth. Awaken to the reverberations of love, glide Along the waters of friendship, snuggle beneath Blankets in a perception of security, and yet Disrupt the mind in the absurdness of solitude! Life is as such, maybe to confuse us to take it Seriously! No love joins us after deaths, feelings separate, Wreaths get burned with us, sans the smell Of the flowers. It gets stolen by the funereal Procession, along with disoriented nostalgia! All equations remains unmatched at death, All tedium grows into a silent delight, We lay awaiting destiny, and our pact with Life remains incomplete. So we ...

In a table of disoriented colors, the pawns Were carefully stacked. White, black, Then the few red ones he himself designed, He made squares with cold accuracy, he made Them white, black and some blue too. Without the faint notions of anger, He started his war against his opponent. Against him sat an artist who commanded All squares. Within his incredulous logic All pawns tasted freedom, within his Arduous commands, all knew reason! But the board was his, and he held The moral command. He divided all Pawns according to the color they were, He took the reds, as he gave them the Privilege of existence. An outrage of Colored war meant reds had a leeway. Blacks fought whites, Whites fought Blacks, Its in the nature, he knew. The dead pawns Were hoarded in squares of blue, A force of red removed the survivors from rue. The king, queen and a set of guards stood erect. The bureaucracy never fought, he knew, They remained trapped, sp...

The Mag : Image by Musin Yohan A harsh wind blew across the burning field, It untied her hair, sans her own knowledge, Sweat mixed evenly with her tears, Yet the hands never stopped its destined motion, It endured the wind, the Sun and the life. The hay that fed on the Sun's angry fever, Rested lifeless on her head, she poached For all her resilience, took it out and placed It above the stuffed up hay. It clouded her Thoughts so that she never saw her husband And how he were as alive as the hay. It never moved her mind to see the uncultivated Fields, the waterless canals, the bottomless wells And the endless Sun. She saw it all in her beloved's Pale eyes. It hugged her each night, and its warmth Betrayed her and her eventful plans. Last night the eyes forgot its hug, rather, it made Her cold. All the years of being loved seemed To be lost in the deep labyrinths of solitude that Laid before. She saw herself planted in the fields...