Aura of poetry

 How stubborn is this sun? It rises every morning with same light, same shine and leaves us with same night. What's your problem dear? Why don't you rest somewhere? Then every ray of every beam, answered me with a bright gleam, "when darkness prevails, effort fails, which nullify everything in you and there comes the appearance of zero then I'll restart the day with my light, to give you the courage for every fight". Then why don't you stay forever? We'll see that zero never. There'll be no dark, no grim, no end, no need to begin. Again the every ray of every beam answered me with the same gleam, "Only an empty glass can hold water in it, and a vacant heart can afford someone to fit. End with zero leads to an inception, Zero might be a villian for you, that's your perception." I asked "Tell me from this what you gain? and why don't you come on the day of rain." How are you so young at every morning? Have you ever cried on an...

 There was a cold night holding stars, and a half moon bearing few scars, set on the black backdrop with a shadow on mountain's top. An alive body with dead soul shouted with all power that he hated God, hands holding a rose flower, echo returned and he jumped from there, thinking that he left behind the world of despair. His closed eyes watched everything, gestation span and mature colours of feeling, felt the wetness of sweat and tears he had ever released, how he broke the vase and his football seized. Memories of his only pet Buzz ran away, insanity of his dance on cousin's birthday. Praying lips of his mom when he got a fractured bone father's warm arms when he was feeling alone. How life emerges from zero,  phases of time moves it to and fro. Endless end in zero's loop goes on and on, nothing in real is gained so nothing is really gone. "I love you god" his soul then said, it was an alive soul with body lying dead, slept on land, lost in the dream, with ...

At your darkest point, in the depth of you, does my message reach  to the home of lives? Pardon for dim silvery shine, as clouds veiled my face, but still I can see through at you, pursuing a dream to dive. Scenery of us created mist, covering the beauty of unseen. You are milestones away, but soft breeze of you reaches me. Oh sea! you are enchanting me, every night, when I gaze at you. I feel lucky to see you everyday, but have you noticed this small silver moon? 27 or in 29 days silhouettes leave, my old heart, same scars with new me, come again to adore your beauty, Am I there in your heart,  where you'll not forget me? I'm the reason of tides in your calm water just to show you, I'm here beside you, I'll be here always, circling above atmosphere whole nights and days. For the dweller's of earth, we are mere some objects of beauty, but it's a secret of you and I, that we have the conversation every night. GRAVEBOX:-)

I was walking through a road in the evening,  but there came a deadend which left me in dilemma. Is it over?  Should I walk back or should I have to rest in peace? I was confused and down on my knees. I waited there till midnight, then I noticed a dim light.  It was defeated by the dark,  but still trying to maintain its spark, with that came a pessimistic soul, took me to it's cottage through growl of the creatures who were blaming me  for the bruises and life deficit of glee. I walked silently to the hut, then I saw the soul bearing a deep cut. I know it sounds pretty strange now,  but I was the reason for all those tears though, somehow I managed to stitch up them. I joined the tore parts,  hide those scars. Suddenly I saw that deadend getting diminished,  all the growls were only the voices in my head, the soul with deep cut was of mine  And this was mere a beautiful sign, that I need to take care of myself. All scars and bruises have the...

Every color has walked out of it,  black and white now it is.  Hanging on a colorful wall over there,  creating strange and mysterious atmosphere. Flashes born out of it inventing a time machine pushing and forcing me to peep in. Peep in through the window of past where lot of moments seem to last.  It's a portrait with a layer of grime,  appearing as a book of epitaph at this time. Life is seriously hysterical, simplified but still looks mystical,  when an object shows  how to be alive and brakes teach how to drive;  when black represents the color of white and death depicts the glory of life,  when violence recognizes the depth of peace  and stupidity defines what seriousness is.  How ironical life appears here! when a still portrait moved me somewhere. - By Gravebox:-)