I stand on the edge of the unknown it’s winter you can tell by the mist forgone the prosperity and sunshine deep into my roots, are puddles of saddened crumbled hope there’s a melancholic glow on my face it yearns for warmth, eternal sunshine, spring up there are gloomy grey skies naked and fatigued crows are hovering to seek shelter and heal their wounds I’ve sinned but there’s no blood on my hands, they’re clean the wind is blowing with its brutal gusts
a few moments later the unknown edge is no longer unknown But now it’s like I’m standing in the middle of a deserted moor it’s winter you can tell by the mist the heart is craving for insanity but mind is composed and completely poised the wind is loosely sweeping dust whirling salt mingling thyme crows have turned to seagulls they are screeching, crying, soaring a storm is brewing nearby
cliff’s edge is near I can feel the abyss the mistral winds have spoken their verses are dark and cold, but propitious what did they speak of? they urge, they whisper, some kind of invitation “jump off the cliff, be free, liberate!” will I jump or I’m too coward for that jump? black clouds have become dense there’s a sense of forbidding, the lines are thin
the mist has cleared up now as I can see the sea but the sea is in turmoil no boat in the sight Am I ready to face the storm? will jumping off the cliff calm the storm I fear, the one inside my tattered soul, the sea of torment the melancholic sea which wants to bleed out when I rip my heart open? who knows? but as they say there are no solutions to the inner storm, except to dive and join the sirens, in the perilous sea below, the real one So I jump. I jump to liberate myself, I jump to endure the pain, I jump to break the chains!
The birds around me hopped and played As winter’s chill started to fade away No shivering, just warm thoughts Came to me with each breath Gratitude reached my heart To carry me forward Even though, I hate so much I am faced with lately Each day matters, no reasons to lament Choices to make for a better future Time to spread love and smiles My faith is eternal; undying
It’s strange how we all have a persona,
An image we’d like others to see.
A charm and charisma, an emotional clothing
It’s nice but it’s not really “me”
The real me, the me of me, the “who” that I am,
He’s not cool, calm or collected.
Inside the thoughts his head go crazy,
Like an untamed deranged juvenile. He’s a mess
Always overthinking random stuff of conversations he had.
With friends or strangers
Thinking the best, then ruminating the worst,
Battering himself with enfeebling fears.
He hide these fears behind fake actions, fake smiles,
Fake talks or fake phrases
Convinced that a fake him is better than the real him,
For now and the rest of always
A mind in overdrive can be really exhausting. Phew!
Most of us portray a fake us to keep up with society on a day to day basis.Until in the end it consumes us and we become that of which we pretend to be.
Some say that a man lives a better life when he sheds all masks. The truth underneath just needs to be brought into the light.
So what are your thoughts on it? Can we shed all masks?
I believe it’s only natural that we have private and public persona’s to some extent.
Also, on serious note, I want to dive into spirituality. I know the word “Spiritual” is abstract, but something tells me that it has answers to my questions. So please suggest me something, books or some accessible texts, so that I can propel the quest to find myself and my life’s purpose.