My heart is a graveyard.
Of memories,
Of love.
Of everything that I am not
And of everything that I am to you.
My soul is a ravine.
Consuming,
Always devouring.
Taking everything for itself
And leaving me bereft of peace.
– Arsh
Posts from Arsh.
My heart is a graveyard.
Of memories,
Of love.
Of everything that I am not
And of everything that I am to you.
My soul is a ravine.
Consuming,
Always devouring.
Taking everything for itself
And leaving me bereft of peace.
– Arsh
You didn't have to say a word,
You didn't even have to look.
I knew it when you left,
Knew it in my bones
You were here,
But you had already left.
– Arsh
Some things shatter,
Some things bloom,
Some things die all too soon.
And yet we stay till we're disproven,
Stay till we're broken,
Stay till we have lost ourselves
Hoping for something different.
What did we stay for?
– Arsh
If ghosts are real,
Then they haunt me.
Ghosts from times I wasn't
And ghosts from times I could have been.
And saddest of all,
Ghosts who would never be.
They haunt me through good times and bad
And yet,
Through all the highs and lows,
They are mine.
– Arsh
You've conquered the world,
Yet all your power combined couldn't
Yellow the pages of history.
Died for your craft,
Doing the same thing over and over again:
Dwelling on your innumerable failures.
Do you remember now?
You have never been the hero of this story.
You failed.
– Arsh
"Can I go to sleep now?"
My mom said not to,
And dad said do.
But mom is sleeping
In a big, red puddle,
And everything hurts.
But mom won't wake up
To kiss it better,
So I guess I'll go to sleep now.
– Arsh
This rat race that
We are trapped in,
Feels inescapable,
Immutable.
"Remember the bright side!"
Nameless, faceless voices chant when shoving
Their positivity down your throat,
Restricting.
"Is this marketable?" seems to be
The only question all art is asked,
Stifling soul and creativity,
Conforming.
This rat race that we
Live our lives in,
Is all that we will know,
Forever.
– Arsh
Frail mortality, you have
Failed in your self-proclaimed journey,
Chasing immortality.
Enduring mortality, yet you
Continue to persist on your relentless quest,
Afraid of dying.
Fleeting mortality, though you are
Ephemeral, you are incandescent,
In your brief time,
Showing your resilience.
– Arsh
Sweet Nocturne,
She needs not the light of day,
Nor the labours that do not pay,
For with her she has numerous nebulae,
That keep her at bay.
She is oft mistaken with coldness and death,
But in her darkness one finds a hearth,
A truly limitless rebirth,
Yet one that blazes with solace.
It needs no light
And does not burn too bright,
So as to hurt your eyes
And feed you with all-encompassing lies.
For sweet Nocturne is Wicked
Man’s veil,
Though the many layers of her beauty
Enclose many in pain,
Those lost souls always searching for their way
Will always find themselves in that dark haze.
– Maya Desdemona, Arsh.
Draped with jewellery and
Precious gold covering
All imperfections, Can all
Our finery cover the rot?
– Arsh