Shriyandhaa's space

  As I slowly open the gate That creaks with delight  My eyes are allowed to feast upon  A beautiful sight. Rows of buildings, Huddled together  Going on and on until  It fades into forever. And the clothesline dancing  To the pleasant breeze  The clothes flapping  In the wind with ease. The shirts wave their sleeves  Flossing to the airy music  The pants wiggle their legs  The wind still mystic; The sun hides behind the clouds Casting a noteworthy glow  And the wind, forever, Continues to flow.  The buildings, however  Remain erect  But I know that they too, furtively  Enjoy the effect. The sky, so high,  Graceful, never-ending And me, still at the terrace, Standing there, dreaming.

  Have you felt that feeling  That feeling where  You have a lot to say, A lot to explain, A lot to justify,  A lot to argue over, And you do know how - But you don’t know how to? Or, what if, you did, But nobody cared, nobody  Stopped to listen? You don’t know - To feel angry, or sad? Frustrated, or depressed? Annoyed, or overwhelmed? At that moment  The moment of the flurry  Of emotions  You let it take over  And end up doing something  Stupid. Which  Lands you on more trouble  And at the end,  You give up.  See no purpose for everything, Want to run away,  Into the dark void.  But a few moments later,  The same in you  Awakes  And gives you a better idea - Think clearly?  And no matter how hard you try to, Your brain cannot function - Cannot process much more, And so it gives in To the sleep That engulfs it. And at the very end, when you  Wake up, from your whimsies, It’s lost, in...

  Behind the clouds  Is the hidden sky, so far, Behind the plasters, A nasty scar, Behind the curtains,  Are bright windows  But behind a mask - It is not for show. Not until you tumble into the trap,  Stay trapped there, in disguised gloom  Without realising it - And then go deeper and deeper  To discover what really looms. Then realisation strikes - How they behaved, how they feigned The hidden meaning behind every wave  You've found it. And the rage, You try to stifle it with much courage, But instead, burn down the page, And whoops - that leads you to your cage. But in the end, the mask is gone - To reveal an atrocity, so from it begone Don't explain, on its own will it dawn - Upon others, just the way it did on you - Ignore their every scorn. Just wait for their mask to be openly torn.

  As I open an unopened book, Waiting to be opened, To spill out a story  I move forward to read its pages -  But end up sniffing them first instead. Oh, the scent of untouched pages  The feel of the smooth but rough surface  Its colour - very white, but tinted in yellow  And I continue to intake its beautiful aroma  For a few minutes, letting it sink in  Then I gaze dreamily at the pages  The second  Before I lose myself, partly,  Dive deep into the world the pages house.