Aesthetic
Nights, such a mesmerizing paradox it is, don't u think?
They show the end, which is always the bad one as compared to a bright day yet they represent the serenity that comes with it.
Shade by shade like in a canvas, the dark clouds overlap each other until it turns the sky ebony.
The once lively coloured sky sullens to an inky blanket draped across the world with the promises of comfort in the embrace of stars which seemed to twirl around like princesses finally in the power.
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Poem
From my rooftop I devoured the stars
the night had attained,
And wondered the amount of stares it heft.
The stars, they fancy glinting alike
for the saints and the stained,
The darkness was the ballroom
where they twirled and fest.
Or could they really be like a souvenir
Of what once remained,
just like a cruel reminder of what life has left.
Do they twinkle as a taunt to our life,
Or do they criticize how we never really survived?
Do they laugh at our small existence
And how much pride we can still hold
Or beam at a fictionist with amusement
When an occult story about them unfolds.
The stars, they radiated all night to honor the past,
but the dawn too came to glorify the new.
Since forever is not a promise that can last,
but an attempt of comfort by the beauty up there, so true,
That they will always intervene, Whenever the darkness threatens to everlast.
YOU ARE READING
Running From Reality
PoetryAs a child, we all had our own sort of vision of how the world might be when we'll go out to explore it . I remember changing my ambitions and my full career plan based on the movie I saw last night. Though,while growing up that vision gets edited...
