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You may think you're alone and your pain is your own secret that no one can see but your eyes danced with mine for one moment in time and your sorrow sang clearly to me I can see you have wondered for the answers that hide form seekers of truth and design there are caverns of visions and shadows of light if you search your own soul you will find     
Use patience to the maximum extent
It must be exercised with determinationAnd it must not get foolish agitation mv venkataraman
All things in this world Be it small Or large, furry or fussy Were loved deeply by GOD He them loved from birth Through happiness and sorrow and he grieved when their life came to an end
But once god fell in love He fell in love with a young girl But the girl was soon to die This was her fate And fate were not to be broken Yet god who was madly in love poisoned the girl’s hairpin so that she would go to sleep When death then came He thought Busy as he was That he had already done his job
Later When the hairpin was removed The girl woke up from her deadly slumber god had saved her from death But death who now realized That he had been tricked and fooled by god Became furious He decided to get revenge He would make the girl fall in love with him Stealing what god hold most precious
Death then took shape as human And went to girl They met every day for thirty days And god could do nothing He watched as the girl slowly came to love death and it pained him deeply Even though the girl could never be his When the thirty-fifth day came Death revealed himself before the girl The girl who had known That death had been by her side all along Were not startled or scared She asked death who she had come to love so deeply If he would take her life Death refused He had also come to love the girl When he turned to leave The girl grabbed death And embraced him She and death were now one
GOD who had watched everything Kept loving each human equally And he never had to trick death again
To heap bliss, sleep is very kind
If sleep can be had with real ease
All our troubles will surely vanish
Sleep will surely give us all peace
Sound sleep is everyone's wish
Touch of sleep is soft like breeze
All setbacks, sleep will just finish.
mvvenkataraman
My Dear Friend...
Why will life not let me be...
What is life if not a gateway to death? The worst of times or the best of times some say And living life lost with every breath Perpetual pain 'till the end of days Wanting to go, with no courage to end Dying to live, only living to die Reincarnation the soul to be sent Pushing through life 'till you sigh life's last sigh Yet the end of Life's load can bring relief No longer a slave to the whims of fate An end to Life's tragic and constant grief Free the bonds of what destiny would say Do not mourn the lost, be sad, or have strife For what is death but a path to new life?
A queer thing indeed Seems so insignificant Yet it has wrought many wonders Underestimated but lurking In the shadows, under many Covers and gaurded walls. The insecure wants it. The arrogant discards this. But this four-lettered word Is what keeps many going in The worst of times, against impossible odds When despair threatens Many turn towards it, Grasp and beg. Oftentimes hope is there when unneeded And sometimes when it is. Without this warmth, just a flicker Mankind would've gotten lost a long time ago, Wandered in thier own misery. But hope guided, kindled, And Led them through and out Of the darkness
One of those things That seems to escape my grasp. A flicker of warmth During dark times. A thing that seems to make the diference Between coward and martyr. The trick is to span that fine line. Something that makes people realize, Understand that it isn't, Isn't all about bravery and swords or battles. Makes you confront your mistakes, Good or bad that may be. Look again, it might be there Right now
Friends and foes of flesh and bone from me they have flown A different company I keep in reveries of twilight sleep When night’s dark blanket does fall, I begin to hear their call Carriage wheels creak, horses shriek, I look, but dare not speak
Some appear restrained; others seem in good manners untrained Pale complexions, faces unshaven, countenances dark and graven Friendly words are not uttered, heavy hearts remain un-fluttered After a brief admiration I join this motley delegation sans hesitation
Through sleepy streets we ride, through dark alleys we arrive To our place of gathering - in silence, without any chattering Far from city lights, under a moonlit sky an owl hoots thrice As if to wonder, “Are these nocturnal creatures of virtue or vice?”
These ghastly preachers with ominous features invade his lightless Kingdom with a mysterious mission - in search of freedom, Perhaps driven by some demon, or for some other unknown reason The owl has seen enough, so it swiftly flies away with a huff
In a ruinous castle by moonlight lit, at a round table we quietly sit The ghostly figures each reveal packets from under dusty jackets On the table they are placed, then with their burning eyes I am faced This is to be a feast, my hosts are many, but guests there aren`t any
The packets are unwrapped, their curious contents are unmatched: Flavors of love and hate, horror, and beauty, to devour all is my duty Some taste sweet, fruits of exotic flavor, I eat; everything I savor Others brought blood to the table; to swallow this too I must be able
I eat, swallow, devour, my hosts are pleased; suddenly I am seized By a feeling of heavy heart and head, I enter a dark sleep of the dead When I wake, in my mouth there’s a strange taste, in my body I ache But the ghosts` sustenance must be treasured, their feast remembered
Or else I`ll be dismembered, the dark treasures in the woods gathered Will be retrieved and given to a more worthy soul, for their goal Is to bring their bitter, bloody honey to feed the mind not the body - The essence of life distilled by the dead in images and words I was fed
A pilgrim stood at an intersection of time and space Waiting for a sign, a revelation, some kind of saving grace Questions heavy as a millstone made him hang his head low Wondering why the heavens are silent; why it is sadly so
The melody of a song suddenly reached his ear It was soothing, dissipating dark clouds of fear He forgot about his questions and worries for an instant In that moment joy and happiness from him were not so distant
The music filled him, vibrating, shaking his every cell This ecstasy lasted till the sudden tolling of a funeral bell To make it stop he ran to the temple and pushed open the door But by then the melody was gone, and he could hear it no more
“No, no! It couldn’t have gone, it couldn’t have died!” “Give me back my hope, my faith!” desperately he cried The sound of death was too loud, harsh and strong But to listen with the heart one can never go wrong
The joyous melody was always there – now he knew It never left him, away from him It never flew It was the symphony of death with its barbarous beat Trying to hide It - hoping that they two would never meet
Taking the time to know who we are looking back what haunts the most depression of thoughts comes to mind hurting the most to why there is so much hate
laughter in the rain why can't we see
taking the time is knowing why look beyond on years to what we done and did
we made life into love stories by taking the moment our ourselves
life is about taking the time but see what we all did
knowing someone is hurt is to ignore the issue
problems arise to why no one took the time to realize what has come and done
can never erase the time all we can do is find the moment of time to know and understand
what we humans do the war of crime children at war in the middle of the war horror stories to tell to what one member has been through
look at the world what do we see racism hate anger illusion of sickness
depression everywhere we go cause no one realize taking the time is the fact of life
why run why ignore why does this happen
why can't we solve everyone problems life is a game and the facts of the time
time to look at the clock are you in a hurry can you wait listen to your child wife or husband
phone rings who's important the modest of time goes so fast these days who's got the time
only one person who has the time the ears to listen to understand
Lord above us all he knows we talk to ourselves he knows we whispers to each other faith to believe is taking your time for all is there
one day soon you may to have no time for anything for yourself
we all need the time out cause time is patience for those who do
perhaps we are all different but sit and listen read a book to your children reflect in yourself what you can do for us all
cause the Lord does plenty for us all he is always there but he cannot do it alone
Lord needs us all to work it through but some reason the world is in fear for the war that comes
lets Pray do we have the time for that yes in our own minds and heart we take pride to what all do so knowing to what we believe helping others taking the moment of your day
taking the time
Coming to my sense what the world means to her or him we slute to the modest of time yet we look ahead what comes over her to be in the sense's of life is it for him or is it just herself thinking closing about herself she is the sense's of her time love came through yet once again sorrows come to mind is this real yes to her it is to love her sense to what she been given is given herself the quote of life to love a man for who he is for her it's all about love faith honesty her sense's are true expection is there one no yet once again in her life time she found her sense to be in love with a man who loves her for her sense of loving him just for being himself
In a house of butter, sleep, solaced by an arcane gold Lined with velvet carpets coy in lavish modesty. Dulcet tones elapsing past the sundry finished chambers Forever home though you know not, in all its bogus truth.
Sine qua non until by storm one’s armor will be melted A bullion sham of hope and loss that weeps through losing eyes. Open doors and draining light—then death!—but life as well— Rebuild with oozing bricks will you, or venture, start anew.
The sun will set, the moon will rise, by pale light you must march Trekking through the vast unknown, too cold, lost, unaided Stumbling over roots and stones, desperate, but for what? For what? As endless space goes stretching on, and you, along with it.
By night rain falls and dark turns black and hunters feed on light By day you skip and smile through a sea of watching eyes. Drink your fill from dried up ponds that give you no reflection Find your way by shards of stars that grant no light, you think.
Labored steps, a fall—no rise; on tip-toes you must bound As string unravels endlessly and lives go flying by. Groping through the boundless night for what you can’t obtain Dragged across a rough terrain, keen prisoner of faith.
But the human eye will change, and adapt to the dark So the rain need fall no more and rise the sun need not. Yet you still fight, endure the pain for what you call your good Filing through with head held high, gold glowing at your feet.
But after war the proudest soldiers turn to rubble dust And under whited sheets you lie, bile victim of the grippe. But by the sheets by death you live to see another light And rest on haunches weary feet to look up at the skies:
I think I saw my revelation dancing in the stars.
I sit here and wait for release as I try to speak No words come out and the silence streches out No feelings to feel No necessities to need No object to see My senses are dulled as I wander and sing Waiting for my silent release My thoughts float about and stray animals walk about watching with intense curiousity I am one with nature as curious creature spark my imagination. I walk about in silent revere for the world around me My life drifts by as I walk the line between sanity and insanity. Which path to take which one to choose God only knows the right thing to do
Evergreen trees. Black paves roads. Concrete cities. What wonders our world beholds. White marble buildings. Number two pencils. Blank crisp papers waiting for words. Hundreds of homes a thousand years old. They all look alike under one midnight sky. White and black mix together. Uniting under one corruptless nation. Empires fall their stories later retold. Their glory lives again. The legacy continues. New and past generation live and die. They all feel and see life differently each with a purpose unknown. They hear music so beautiful tears will fall. Above in my heaven lies all my family or so I am told. All of them and God who gave us this earth to roam. Forever to wander in pairs or alone until one day when we all die alone.
Words say mean things. Words say kind things Words make my world go 'round and crumble down. Words show love and words show hate so that people can appreciate literature with feeling. Words change lives for better and for worse. Words connect people with those who are lost. Words make people smile and some cry. Words can go on for endless miles. Words hold secrets, fears, and doubts. Words show love and rearrange things about. Words make and break bonds and show trust and betrayal. Words are out and cannot be taken back leaving regrets that last forever. Words have so many different meanings to everyone so make sure when you write on that new piece of paper that you write what you mean and that you mean what you write.
A Change Girl on Fire, Boy with bread, Lover with bow, Fake people with roses. At first glance you don't see it all. But after years the truth is now known. All has been broken, All has been fixed. Now comes a rebellion just for some kicks. People starve and children wait to find out their terrible fate. Cries arise and people shout, Screaming for the government to let them out. Through smoke and ash people wait, Just to find someone who can relate. No one comes. Lungs burn from stench and hearts break from the wreck. Homes are lost just like people who are now left to search for a new foundation. All was lost but now all is found as one girl has the chance to turn things around. She's been through so much she is on her knees as she waits for the one who'll fix her now. When he arrives he's shy at first but now he's all out saving lives. The polish is off and someone is found. Someone so pure just like a flower gets killed through a bombs great burst of power, Hearts are broken once again. Then the boy with the bread makes some new friends. In the end they save the day now haunted by people long passed away. They've had two kids, a boy and a girl who won't have to carry the weight of the world.
I dedicate this poem To you, my beating heart You ghastly, abhorrent thing Where do I even start?
You pump my blood round and round You work on my behalf Then endanger my sanity In you schemes to find my better half
You torture and you torture But follow you I must It’s not fair, but you don’t care That I lie rejected in the dust
I don’t think I can handle it Realy don't know if I can But please o vile, wretched thing Please do it to me again
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