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What drives you,
in front of you.

What makes you happy,
beside you.

What makes you, you,
will remain within you.

 

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Hurt.

You can’t feel,
And so you won’t know.
You have hurt me in ways you will never know.

You did what you had to do.
And went your own way.
But what about the things within me,
which were left unsaid.
They bring me hate and pain
Which I do not want inside of me.
They make me want revenge,
Which is not how I was supposed to be.
I do not want to be a monster,
And so I want you to know.
You have hurt me in ways you will never know.

The Last Glimpse

I am leaning against a tree.
He is standing against the wall.
I see him through the glass.
He is speaking to someone on call.

I try to hold my blink,
To not to miss his smile.
But the way he shines
Is enough to make me blind.

I take a final glimpse,
And store it in my mind.
One last image of his,
For a memory, I can call mine.

His Shirts.

Out of all those, I remember only a few.
Good old days reflecting memories anew.

The first – purple, light purple!
Then black, with white checks, I guess.
And brown too, bark-like-brown.

Last but not the least, sky-blue.
And then purple again,
because that’s the one in which you were mostly around.

Mountain

Mountain

I saw him packing, a flashlight and a rope.
I asked where you headed.
“To the mountains”, he roared.
I asked why, and his eyes gleamed
in a way which I had never seen.

“Elevated earth and hairpin bends.
Narrow paths that would never end.
You may move but shall be still.
This way you can only feel amid hills.
Alpine habitats and needle leaf trees,
Unspoiled wilderness there shall be.
Deep turns will make you sway
while the brook shall lead you the way
to a place, familiar to you
Into an empty space where
the sky shall spread blue.
Stare at the sun as it sets
the sky will then bleed red.
Gradually it will turn dark
and suddenly you will see a star.
And the next few moments you’d lay stunned
for you would see millions of them at once.
None of them will leave a scar
but you will be left with an intangible mark.
I have one, but I can’t show you.
Pack your stuff so you can feel it too.
No words can be just to describe
the peace you would feel.
No wounds exist that
the mountain air cannot heal.”

Daily Prompt