The Shepherd asked the poetess-
Who are you?
Twinkling her eyes, the poetess
said-who am I.
Am I a breath or a death;
breeze or a storm;
am I soothed or havocked?
I am blazed and ashed.
Am I a flower or a crackling leaf;
sand or a sea;
rock or a snow?
I am a droplet and a wavelet.
Am I a mystic sky or a fog;
cloud or a smoke;
hazed or dazed?
I am a dew and blue.
Am I a moon or its shadow;
real or a fake;
peace or a mayhem?
I am resting and running.
Am I desired or scraped;
slapdash or deliberate;
gem or a junk?
I am nerdish and doltish.
O! dear shepherd
who cares and
wonders who am I?
I am a treasure of pleasure,
I am a glow and a blow,
I am tender and blender,
I am your treasured flow.
**************
A sudden sadness
A taste of madness
a tear trickles down
due to the on going storm
going on in the passage
A story never told to anyone
wrecks havocked
and it's all because of a family trait
the reason this girl can't think straight
To the outside world it all appears to be fairytale
but the numbness inside she feels can't be weight on any scale
There is a simple term to describe the yearn to kill ones self
depression.
When nothing feels right.
Even when everything is fine.
I gained this family trait
which has been passed down through each female
Most of the time I'm strong enough to fight it off
But there are those days
when I get in a daze
and I listen to the whispers trying to reel me in
No I won't take medicine
I've always been pretty hesitant
The cure lies in my own self will
If I am truly strong than I will
never let it devour me
whole.
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