
Wilting Plumegrass
While you decline to cry,
high on the mountainside
a single stalk of plumegrass wilts.
While you decline to cry,
high on the mountainside
a single stalk of plumegrass wilts.
Brilliant skyscrapers,
Mosaic paths sway to songs
Of crushed bricks and rocks,
This gleaming concrete jungle –
Spews blinding diversity.
cherished firsts and fleeting scraps of thoughts;
these cold words – dear, are they
for bitter freedom do I hold when they soar away.
I hold them close
And tell them slowly,
They are my friends
If they’ll ever know me
And in that moment, I swear we were infinite.― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower Past these horizonsWhere the rays of infinityCradle the wilted ripples of time;Ripples that have traversed lifetimes,Is nocturnal magic –The kind that never sleeps And lends old, comforting dreams to sleepless minds. Artists are we, and reality our Foe from ages-old […]
Forgiveness is this wonderfully marvellous human thing, I don’t know if you’ve ever forgiven or been forgiven by someone but I need you to know it’s the closest thing to pure freedom, any of us can ever experience. I’ve been writing and thinking about forgiveness for the past month and it’s been a beautiful experience and I want it to be the last thing you feel before you leave.
For when times seem bleak
And your mind turns into a cage,
Remember to forgive yourself
For being human.
“Realize that if a door closed, it’s because what was behind it wasn’t meant for you.”― Mandy Hale Flakes of beauty and castles of glass,Trees caked with pristine powderAnd the cold white blanket beneath –Testify to the great inner turmoilPlaguing the winter soul. Like royalty is the world aroundElegant in its chaos, andGracefully fierce,With stunning beauty […]
“… You can’t see a person more nakedly than that, when they don’t know they’re being watched, studied.”― Jo Nesbø, Blood on Snow When the going gets tough, I think of the bus. It was a typical day at school, quite the balanced mixture of embarrassment, awkwardness and laughs. We walk to the bus stop where the […]
Sometimes when it’s too sunny that the rays penetrate my skin and the heat burns my soul, when it’s too cold that the world outside is hauntingly heartless, I run away. The day is gentle and the rising noise of life heralds the start of a new memory.