Website Security Test A promise Skip to main content

A promise

A river full of sorrow flows through my heart, carving its way to find a way out. I keep telling it, don't rush your way through for many have tried to break these walls before you. Perhaps flow over it, and weaken its foundation. I've had great help and people who cared, but that never helped because I never helped myself.

Teach me how to weave my wounds together, one at a time so it doesn't bleed. How do I keep myself from bleeding? I am no merchant of venice. A pound of pain in my right hand, a pound in my left- at least get me a balance to weigh. I know what it feels like to be left alone with bruises, they burn just like my soul does without a cause dissolving into pure chaos.

Shallow, all your promises and words full of lies. I always wanted to see the real you. Please put down your mask and scratch that skin off for words don't do justice to the injustice you cause. My blood was warm red, now it flows blue, eyes were deep brown, now they look sharp blue. Someone said, there will be ups and downs in your life, but all my life has seen are the lows. The spectrum so dull, the spring of my life has turned white.

Who will hold onto these memories when I leave? Perhaps I'll pass them down to someone in need of love and compassion, for only those who have been through a perpetual torment would know the need for love. Open your heart to mine, and I will forever embrace your scars as if they are engraved on my palms. Don't let go, the sufferings won't end, the pain will follow you. Learn to share the pain, lend some of it to me and I will take care of you.

Yours truly,
Ihsaan Want.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

beneath

  flesh and blood, gaze beneath, shadows creep, nails beneath, writer’s paradise? share beneath, all oceans, sail beneath, perhaps to pause, and rethink, let it sink, and crawl beneath, pyramid of dreams, sand beneath, you stand tall, sky beneath? you climb, world beneath, ponder, once, what have you lost? eerie nights, but roses beneath, skin and bones, yet lush beneath, you walk, but a creek beneath, shallow, yet you freak beneath, and all that, yet you leave life beneath? -ihsaan, always

Sunflowers

I turn my attention towards you as the sunflowers turn their necks towards the sun. My life is an endless stream of water feeding your garden, an endless row of trees shading your house, and perhaps an endless night holding you - my qamar. If words would do justice to how beautiful you are, I would have to teach eight billion people a new subject - a new revelation. Buried inside my letters are words that merely describe your outline, with each shadow of my so black stroke gently gliding over adjectives to suit you. My ink, O my beloved ink loves you more than I do, for when I get tired of framing sentences - the ink structures paragraphs against my will. Shallow. Shallow I thought my love would be, for when I saw you, you reminded me of my mother. Your eyes hold a million treasures and a million dreams, and those dreams, their own stories. I wish to be just one of those million stories, even if it is of less importance inasmuch as you remember me. Your love by Allah has n...

A letter for you

To my forever, yes you, Some days back I started wondering what would be an ideal definition for love. What is that makes people fall in love? How come two strangers, no connection, no history all of a sudden just connect? How is this different from attraction? Is it attraction that makes people fall in love? How can one put all of this in words? How can one distinguish attraction apart from love, and vice versa? How do I outline an answer for these questions? What love is and what love isn’t how do I gauge it? How do I put a range on it? Is my scale of understanding wide enough? Then I look at you, and all these questions evaporate like water on a hot pedestal. Love is immeasurable, it is uncountable. It cannot be taught, yet it is learnt. It is not an exercise, it is a responsibility. It isn’t planted, it is born. It has no shape, yet it is beautiful. It has no degree, yet it is worshipped. How Rumi describes love is how I feel; I am filled with you. Skin, blood, bone, brain, and sou...