Shriyandhaa's space

 What hope you once had,  What hope you soon lost. All those good times,  Freezes into still frost. Fades into mere memory, Buried deep inside, And away in a flurry, you might think,  It flees to the world outside. What memories you cherished,  Will tend to fade away. You might later not remember,  The joys of the early days. Not even a trigger,  No oversight.  Because what is lost is not found,  Not even with sheer strife. Fragile memories from old childhood,  Splintered into pieces as you sow a reformed life, But hold on to them, will you,  Don't let your new self be your old life's knife. You might, however, lose old laughter,  Your joy, your cheer, and all sweet banters. But one day in your reinvented dawn,  You will reminisce about the past, and the past's future. And, oh, will you ponder and wonder,  Where has it gone, the good old laughter? Then you'll see light, regretting the major changes,  Of your youn...

  What you knew you had right beside you What you never knew might leave you What you had neglected for days What you wished was still there, within your gaze. That miniscule amount of hope  That you feel lingering close by You could open out your arms, embrace it, But suddenly it's high in the sky. Once within your grasp, But now away from you, Don't waste a moment on a wee gasp, Time won't stop, and the moving hope too. Each moment is to be caught, Each memory to be cherished, Hold them carefully in your arms, Before they shall vanish. The consistent inkling when you feel, Something close, yet so far, Is only because you know yourself, That it is within your grasp, but not within your confidence. If you're positive enough that you can hold it, The 'it' that is mysterious and something only you know, You can hold the precious 'it', Clutch it tight, don't let it go. You must be close to the end of the day, With its cliffs and slopes and Rocky slides,...

  With a crisp, short name Yes, you heard it right, Blue likes to play a unique game, Blue likes to change the light. With serene hues, Yet bold forms, You can't resist colour blue, Blue's both the calm and the storm. Blue is constant, Being the colour of sea and sky, Blue is not hard to hunt -  It is present everywhere; be it low or high. Like the vast ocean that contain salt, The bright yet dark blue sucks up your fear, Blue is, like red, a symbol of bravery and courage's vault, But it fights with peace, unlike the violent red which fights with bright colours far yet near. Blue comes in forms of all, Subtle, dark, bright, jarring, But not one colour has been disliked by them all, Each and every colour has its own standing. Blue, well, is it a symbol of sadness too? Or is it just our own assumption? Not all bad things are dark, not all skies are blue, And not always does blue, for sadness, function. Blue establishes peace and hope, With its striking, diverse, positive shad...