Never have I seen splendour in it’s purest form. I wish I had, then I would never worry about catching a glimpse of a splendour which has come in front of me in an imperfect form.
It is crude.
It is rough.
It is unpolished.
Yet somehow it is beautiful.
Often it’s brilliant gleam blinds our eyes making us lose ourselves in the night of ourselves. And there we discover a new crescent.
And the newness of it’s pulcritudinous beauty snatches us away from the night of our hearts to a day where our mind is the king and our eyes, our so called perfect eyes are the vessel of a splendour.
I once knew that gleam. Now I know it no more.
I tried to perfect it over and over and betrayed my mind over and over and over.
As it nears perfection I once again am caught in the boughs of my own beautifully disastrous night. Where I see is how small, how measly I am in front of my thousand wrongs.
I once knew a splendour who took me out of the night. To make me a home there once more.
After all they make our lives.
Let us move ahead.
Towards an unknown future
Where there is no hope neither one who is dear
Yes but there exists such a place
Where we hold no disgrace
It is a place where you me and we are always near
Yes, I hope one day we will sit on a windy evening and watch the kites soarin high above. Maybe that day we will feel a little less worried. And no one knows, we might just smile too.
And I wait for one more day when we just sit on a dirty rock and see a bird making it’s nest. That day, I hope, would be the one that the bird completes making it’s home.
One fine day, I would like to sit near a windy mountain cottage. And see the winter blossom in a chilly splendour. And of course, include a ‘we’ within the ‘I’ of that wish.
And there must be one night, one beautiful night amongst the countlessly restricted days, where we could see a star. Yes, see a rare commodity and as we watch it, i will let you point out the milky way behind my back.
I will see it, i will follow it as it’s infinite lights disappear behind another skyline.
I don’t know about anyone , but I have always looked d up at a sky of countless hidden stars.
Of course they are hidden. I live in goddamn city.
But in such a sky I’ve always hoped to find a star who looks down at the earth and truly sees that there are people who look up to it.
And yet realisation dawns upon oneself as they realise that the star is beautiful only as it is veiled by a dark curtain of a disastrously black night.
And as for the stargazer, the one who wants to empty all of him to the sky, he always remains veiled by a dark curtain.
Only his curtain is one made by his heart and that it can be easily torn apart.
You can see me as a star
On a dull winter night,
But I will fall for you,
I will burn forever bright.
We have dreams
And want to travel through the trees again