18 Letters

Cocooned in a bunch of letters,
I fail to pick up even one;
“You are afraid.” They say,
But all I am is concerned.
The bird I called mine has flown away,
And it won’t come back,
I tried calling it out to no avail.
I say it flew away,
But you and I,
Know it was forced to stay.
I tried consoling it; hoping,
It’d smile and flutter some,
I fixed it, all that was broken,
But it flew away anyway.

It was floundered and flushed,
When I caressed it in my hands;
It looked innocent, I knew
There was a devil within.
I didn’t pay heed,
For I poke away worries;
I fancy the demons, and
Those who mock the sins.

When I cradled it in my arms,
It was pure bliss,
Or so I thought.
I felt connected to it,
Felt it to be my dreamcatcher;
For I had always wanted an associate,
Is it too soon that it faltered?
This was a question,
It soon brazed to answer.

I talked to it when I was miffed,
Wrote 18 letters to it,
All sealed within minutes;
As it were to be my companion,
Waiting for it to fulfil my surfeited junctures.
I pulled into an encouraging smile,
Whenever it turned to me for advice,
I told it, all was safe and sound,
Held it close, near my heart,
For that was what was most profound.

At this hour I stare at the sealed words,
Wondering if they mattered,
For it went away nevertheless.
It wasn’t long ago,
I must admit,
It met me yesterday
And now it only seems fit,
That it went away,
Like everybody else.

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4 thoughts on “18 Letters

  1. Those who go weren’t meant to stay,
    They were meant to teach…
    You learnt all they could give,
    Then they went away…

    Isn’t it sad? You know they’ll go…
    But you want them to be,
    You want them to stay,
    You give them all,
    They go, and take it away…

    You are left, forlorn, befuddled…
    But as he said, “Sluttish time”…
    That moron heals it all…
    You build yourself again, from scratch…
    Just for someone else to snatch,
    Once again, you’ve fallen prey,
    To those who come; don’t want to stay…

    I relate… I know how it feels…
    And in the end you agree,
    Its for the best they left,
    Each time someone leaves,
    they make you stronger,
    And birds are meant to fly, my dear…

    The last two years, I hurt myself a lot…
    But in the end I struck the pot of gold,
    Which I know awaits you at a turn in your life…
    I found a few lights, they are here to stay,
    To cry when I cry, to laugh with me,
    Not flighty birds like the ones we’ve seen,
    They are souls, they are lights,
    They are those that are meant to be… ā¤

    Liked by 2 people

    • Are you being quotable?
      Because I see lines and crevices,
      Of the letter ‘q’, and today
      I’m handing it to you.

      People always leave,
      But does that worry me?
      I would like to say yes,
      But I disagree.

      I have become accustomed to
      Scares of whiny words, and teachings
      Of a cruel soul; always asking what
      But never who.

      Sad is how I can’t feel the pain
      When it burns my skin, and chills
      It from within; like it is all I have lost
      And all I have left to gain.

      I haven’t cried in so long,
      For I have got some mere words,
      To let my agitation turn gay, and
      Let them test the right and wrong.

      I have found a cacophony,
      Amidst the greatest whited ghosts, which
      Die to be seen in the glory of peace,
      It could have been an applause to the century.

      These ghosts, as I like to call
      Them, are, well, nothing more so;
      And I remember my words, and I remember
      Theirs; all of which hold up my walls.

      Liked by 1 person

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