Family
To the surreal strength we hold
This is an ode to the might that we hold in our hearts to mellow through the banter of our strife. We are extraordinary species that surpass the wit and intelligence of any existing creature in the biotic ecosystem. Our minds are constantly evolving in every minuscular way to foretell the vision of tomorrow. Life is a monotonous series of exemplary events that forge their being in the mundanity of a day. Stirring with the hustle-bustle of every day becomes burdening when life shows how uncertain our mortality is and how placated we are in the hands of the unknown.
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
All the light we cannot see.
All the light we cannot see. Embellishing in the moments of sadness, enraged by the atrocities of life, We often comprehend our reasons to be alive. Do you often sit by the window sill and ponder what true happiness decipher to? What is the essence of absolute joy? Can it be broken down into a simplistic perspective of experiences that we live through or is joy synonymous with money and materialistic realities? I often sit down and wander memory lane, to behold the precious moments of delight, where I felt truly happy.
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
To the ones who grew up earlier
To the ones who grew up earlier A part of my being always hurts for the ones who were always deemed to be too mature and too deep for their age. Home is often associated with our comfort zone, the abode that stalls our dejected sighs and embraces our dreams to fly high. But more often than not home is a place where a lot of us wish to escape from, to a place where peace embosoms the frantic cry of our chaotic wails and where the heart blooms and does not turn pale.
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
