The Game Is Set...

a ravaged heart
beautiful and violent
engulfed in a raging fire
pining, craving and longing
for her elegy to be heard
but there is no one around

the game is set, but
she is not ready...

she has to fight
the fears gripping her
the demons tormenting her
weave the torn fabric 
heal the scalds, while 
letting the scars be

the game is set, now
she is poised...

to take controls
fortified with faith
armed with hope
her heart is ready
ready to blossom
ready to fly
ready to face 
the challenges of life

the game is set, and 
so is she

Alis Volat Propriis

captivity was not meant for her
she was meant to fly
and, she did...

spreading her injured wings with pride
she took flight
to soar to the zenith
to touch the cerulean sky
to float amidst the clouds
to dance amongst the stars
to travel to the horizon, and
beyond
creating a trajectory of her own

releasing herself from all earthly binds
setting free her insecurities
she breathed her freedom
alis volat propriis 
she flew with her own wings!

RAINS

adding colors and character

to the benevolent sky

the clouds float together

forming an isle

the storm

the lightening

in their magnificent ire

usher in gusts of wind

along with the thunder

first come the cool breeze

then the petrichor

and, finally the outburst

an antidote

to every parched soul

the beautiful rains

are a frenzied delight

where the spirits

are showered, and

feelings sensitized...

Tabula Rasa

Memories vivid yet distant
of how colors turned gray
in the contours
of her convoluted mind
over the years
it seemed like
there could be nothing more
to the black hole like darkness
that was shrouding her vision
gripping her imagery
she sat there lost
in the qualms
of her fragmented life

Interlude

She could not
let this continue
it had to stop
for she was breathing
she was alive, and
deep within she knew
it was temporal
she had to move on
in life

Interlude

She woke up one day
set her slate clean
like the tabula rasa, and
edged forward
propelled with hope
towards the horizon
ready to create
new imprints
of the rest of her life

Belong

her wanderlust
epitomized freedom
as free as
the flowing water
of the river
that had no start
and no end
such was her wildness
that she held no fear
and basked in her own light
in communion
with the Universe
belonging only to herself