She.
.
.
.
untangled, unhooked and free
or
cold, lost and alone?
She who belonged, was now free
She who loved, was now incomplete
She who knew, now knows nothing
.
.
.
One of those days...
Very rarely, in your life you get opportunities to redefine who you are, to revisit your values, your grit and grappa to realise what you are made of and how well do you fit in or if you do at all. Very rarely you are standing on cross-roads questioning everything you know. Very few mornings you wake up with no fuzz and no confusion Very few nights when your nothing box rules your thoughts and as the name of the box, you think of nothing & in those very few moments in your life you realise that no matter who you are and what you are made of, it really doesn't matter, it all is transient; time, oceans, mountains, faith... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CVUOTzoVeZA https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VEpMj-tqixs https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Wa7dFR09vU
So beautifully written. And such a realistic and scary thought. We all resist change, don't we?
ReplyDeleteStumbled upon your blog from Instagram. You write so well, and your pics are so melancholic and beautiful. Would you allow me to use some of your pics to go with my poems? Needless to say, I will give you credits by way of shared links and a short bio.
Do drop by mine.
Cheers,
CRD
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