This day, One day

Today, everyone keeps telling you that one day it’ll all be fine,

One day, you’ll find out that it’s all for the best,

One day, all the pain will go away.

Now I’m sure that one day I’ll be strong,

One day, I’ll be standing on my feet with my head held high,

One day, I’ll look back and may not even remember how it felt on this day.

I’m not a slightest bit concerned, I have full faith in reaching all of that one day.

But you see, this is not about one day,

This is all about today and what happened this day.

This day, life as you knew it changed,

Rainbows turned into stormy gloomy clouds,

And smiles turned into heartbreaking frowns.

This day, you realized that even though you thought that you finally made it home,

You were stranded in the middle of nowhere all alone.

This day, you knew that even though you thought that life ran out of lemon stock to give you,

It’ll always throw a bunch at you to slap you and alert you.

This day, you got burnt, got cheated, lost faith in yourself, and got hurt.

This day, you doubted all you’ve said, all you’ve done, all you’ve heard, and all you’ve felt.

This day, brought you tears, and achieved your worst terrifying fear.

This day, you prayed to god to give you the strength to survive those coming days.

This day, you closed your eyes and made a wish to fast forward through those coming days,

In hopes that that you can safely and with the least damage, reach that one day!

Übermensch

A brilliant man he was,
That’s what they say.
A man with no fears or anxieties!
A great poet; who most certainly lead a lyrical yet tragic life.
He valued everyone & appreciated everything about them.
Every single aspect in life captivated his attention,
But nothing trembled his insides.
And that was his tragic flaw!!
He valued everyone,
but loved no one!
“Non- wrathful Achilles” was his designated name amongst his circle.
He stood up and fought for everyone,
But he cared for non of the matter s!
He was never in pain, and never in agony.
Some called him “Tin-Man”,
And others called him “Übermensch”.
Some loathed him,
And others loved him.
Some feared him,
And others trusted him.
But all in all, he never passed someone’s life unremembered.
He was accused of being a mischievous fraud,
And was recognized as being genuinely sincere.
He wrote epic tales,
Yet witnessed non of them!
He never tried to get something where there was nothing,
And his grace never had an ugly picture of itself.
His most precious possession was a white canvas,
For the innate set of possibilities it withheld;
In which he didn’t believe in any.
He was the exception of the rule,
And he’s the one who created that rule.
He shattered everyone’s illusional realities,
And created their preference for new dreams.
There are endless words and not enough space in the spectrum of languages to describe who he was.
However, with all the names he was called,
He was never called or perceived as a fool!!

Six Steps

Six steps ahead,
Four behind,
…and two that were supposed to be defining.
But only six ahead,
with a thought pondering: are they enough?
six steps?!
Six steps seem to be a lot.
Though they're not,
they're deceiving,
For time is a cheating bastard that catches each step off guard; mockingly!
Four steps ago the entire journey began;
where the first step took stand,
and two steps ago the picture should’ve been clear,
but that didn’t happen!
Time is being raced, yet standing still,
Looking ahead with one thought in mind: there are still six more steps to go!
A whole lot of six steps!
Or are they only six steps?!!

Head Held High

The streets of this town are crowded with people and noises,
and there she comes from a distant so far away….
the glance in her eyes means and represents two things:
the first is a destination she’s heading towards, and the second is a feel of loneliness…
She walks with her head held high…
held high with pride, and held high as if no one else is walking in that road but her….
Though things are exceedingly loud around her; she hears nothing but hymn and whisper…
The atmosphere around her is very blurry, but her determination is crystal clear…
Determination to reach a certain aim….and not just any aim…
Her eyes speak out that that aim is what her life depends on…
Her entire future seems to be held on a string till she accomplishes her aim…
Who she was lead to this determination;
Who she is needs to accomplish and reach that destination;
And who she will be depends on the moment she reaches it….
And I’m just standing in my terrace watching her walk by..
And like her; I can only see her…
The atmosphere around me is just a whisper….
I’m feeling her; and as much as she wants to reach that destination; as much as I wanna indulge in that determination of hers…
But after a few moments of watching her…the truth struck me as lightning…
A weird vibe is coming out of her…
Despite her determination, strength, clarity, and independence; she screams out a feel of loss….
Loss of her past and loss of her identity…
This girl is without a doubt lost…
She knows she is someone…
She knows she is going somewhere….
She knows she’s significant…
But she doesn’t know who she is; and most importantly she doesn’t know where she’s going
…….all of this with her head still held high!!

Volcano

The surface is cold
Seems very calm and controlled
From the looks of it; it won’t erupt before millions of years
It gets agitated
Triggered
Provoked to explode
Irritated
Many factors aspire it to go wild
And still the surface is quiet
With no signs of reactions
Staying still as a rock
A myth goes around saying that late at night,
The surface slightly moves,
Causing a few drops of liquid to flow
But that’s all to it
A Myth
No one saw it dripping
And no one heard it weeping
Some say that it does that every night
And others say that it only does that when the town kids throw stones in it
This mountain body has been quiet with no eruptions for many years
None of the town’s people can even remember the last time they heard about its last eruption
The town’s people aren’t afraid of it
They camp around it,
Go to picnics on its tip,
And decorate it on Christmas
However, they started abusing it lately
They burn garbage next to it,
Throw stones on it,
And store disposals on it
Not aware of its danger
They abuse it more and more
And the myth is coming to life
But that they don’t know
They take it for granted
But the volcano is about to explode
And those dripping weeps will turn into a waterfall of lava
Eventually the volcano will erupt
And the lava that has been boiling for years in a small space,
Will get the chance to burst in a vast space
Maybe people will get hurt
Maybe the mountain vessel that contains it will get destroyed
But the volcano is now weeping out of pain
The only way that will relieve its pain is through this eruption
The lava has been boiling for years and needs a crack to be set free through
The volcano is awaiting
The volcano is weeping
The volcano needs to be released!!

The Conflict Within Me

What am I?
Am I a girl, or a woman?
A lover or a player?
A true teller or a liar?
Something or nothing?
Real or fake?
An achiever or a wanna be?
But most of all, I have to wonder:
WHO AM I?
A thinker or a romantic?
Am I a person with a free will, or a manufactured product of society?
If I’m a person with a free will, then why am I bound?
And if I am a product, should I be the one to condemn, or the people who manufactured me?
But either way I am not any of the things above.
For I am a wanderer between two worlds,
Two extremes,
Black and white.
But what’s tearing me up inside is that I don’t know which is black or which is white.
By heart is torn, and my brain is over thought.
I keep asking my self:
Are you happy?
Are you content?
Are you proud?
There is only one answer that seems to haunt me: NO I AM NOT!!!!
As I said, I am a wanderer, I am lost.
I know what I was, I know what I wanna be.
But I can’t be either.
For I am stuck.
Confused.
Angry.
Frustrated.
And incomplete.
I should break through and redeem my self from all the ties.
I must release my emotions, let the inner me rule.
Find the missing pieces to complete me.
But the more I try, the more I fail.
I just can’t.
Something is holding me back.
What is it I don’t know?
But I am tired of trying, and I am drained.
Who am I trying to please?
And what am I trying to prove?
What ever is it that I do, is just not right.
Quench is the word.
And quench is the answer.
Quench my desires!!
Quench my yearning to be alive!!
Quench the lusts that I have!!!
But I’m falling apart.
For I am frail.
I need a helping hand, as I am getting weaker.
I need the will to struggle.
I need to be contained.
For I am in pain!
Agony!
Torture!
And misery!
And all I a can do is just scream.
That’s all I’m capable of.
Scream!!!
But the more I scream, the less my scream is heard.
As I bay and cry to the moon,
I could only wonder,
What am I?
Am I girl or a woman?
Who am I?
A person with a free will, or a product?
But what I know for sure,
Is that I am a believer.
But a believer of what?
I have no clue!!!