There is a limit to your love

Is there even a point to pursuing it any further when you don’t fear losing it?
Is there a point of having it if your way is the only way?
Is it even possible to keep it if you have no ears to hear it?
Is there no error in your ways?
Is there a possibility that it is slipping away with every unkind word?
Have you ever considered her not being the one for you; have you ever considered she might not be what you thought her to be?

Misunderstandings

It is easier to write than to speak. It seems as if with every word I utter the barrier gets lifted. Your words shrink me, I would rather be in the company of your actions, at least they sooth the eyes with reflections of your love .

Soar

While lying outside on the balcony, I watched the clouds as they blissfully sailed by. What caught my eye though was this great illumination of a soaring bird. When I think of where my life is, it’s as if God is saying to me ‘patient, you are in formation and soon you will glide into heights unimaginable now and light up the skies, for even the blind will feel your touch’. Anyway that was my blessing today, I created ripples that turned into diamonds in water, then hours later I saw myself in the clouds. 🙂

21

Worlds apart, words cannot capture the emotion that unites our spirits at this very moment. I cannot speak to you, nor can I see you, yet your face stays entrapped in my mind. I fear you becoming a mere memory, I fear my ability to feel has become your demise. Despondent, keen, desperate, silent I am and you, paralysed; now a fog has fallen gravely on our meeting ground. We are moving frivolously or so it seems, unaware of what lies beyond the facade; oh how fearless we become when we think we know, when all seems to be in our favour.

The future is yours

They lied to us, led us like lost sheep to the brink of an eroding cliff; where we watched sunrises, ate fermented grass and layed on our backs while mesmerised by distant rainbows. They said the future was ours, as if it was a guarantee that when we were tall and handsome, a bowl full of sunshine would be handed to us, filling our days to come with happiness and success. They had done all the work, that is how it seemed to us, we just had to keep up the appearances, emulate them, bring glory to their struggles. If only they had stuck to the theme, instil the same message that brought them hope, longing, strength, vision, perseverance, patient, resilience; ‘the future is yours to make, through work and unity its fruits are yours to take.’
Now that we are full of wool and our bones are draped in fat they look at us, passing judgement; they murmur, ‘sheep are just lazy, all they want to do is eat and sleep.’

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