No Autumn is more beautiful than a woman dropping her inhibitions in the Aura of the Man she loves.
She blooms like a Moonflower on a starless night when the Wolves in him calm her ocean of ecstatic Tides.
A Poetic saga flows through the rustic crispness of sheets just like the music born in Autumn by the soft murmurs of the golden leaves.
No Autumn is more beautiful indeed and every woman awaits her call A rebirth from darkness to the myriad shades of Fall.
We burn many bridges in life but why do we save the ashes? Ashes that pierce every time like a sharp knife. And when it rains, the first few drops that kiss the dry barren mud of the heart we become slave to the petrichor of those rotted dead memories.
Strange but there seems to be no threshold for pain.
I often find myself standing in front of that mirror left back in the deserted woods on one of the pages of my life.
I stare at her happy face, decorating her forehead with a bindi and wearing those bangles with a coy smile. Ah someone needs to shake her up and tell her that she hasn't moved since years and it's high time.
I turn back and look at me now and see the huge walls that I've built over the years. Don't we all have those walls which we laid brick by brick to simply hide or shield whatever little is left of us?
But then I noticed that there ain't any roof and I felt like a fool, when I had the sky then why didn't I fly, why did I believe in the hoax that all is well within these dark sombre walls.
And if there wasn't any roof then why didn't someone come looking for me and take me on some wings which seemed clipped for me.
A Hero we keep searching for outside, didn't you listen to Mariah Carey say that the Hero lies in you.
Ah yes, I keep forgetting and every time someone appears like a shadow I've been imagining since so many years on those walls, remember those walls I've built, yes they do hold some vague images, vivid imaginations that comfort and soothe my aching soul.
And suddenly I try to lean on that shadow but hey shadows eventually fade when it gets dark and there you are left with one more brick for your wall.
So all I say to this little vulnerable girl, burn those bridges and let the winds carry those ashes to some forbidden land of no return.
Build your walls but keep filling those cracks so no shadows can be formed. And finally believe that you are your Hero and you have survived those storms and nobody promised there won't be anymore but remember this time don't give in to a shadow but only the one who promises you endless rainbows at night is the one who'll hold your hand for life.
Gitanjali is known in the Writer’s World by her pen name Laughing_Soul. She is an articulate single lady in her 40’s from Mumbai, India. Born in a loving family with its share of ups and downs, and after carving a a fulfilling career in the hospitality industry, her poetic soul finally found solace in penning words. She is a full time hobby writer, author and publisher. Gitanjali’s making waves in the literary world with her work, adorning many anthologies. She also invented a poetic form called the ‘Mirror Alphoppbet’.
Her debut publication, Crimson Kisses, was featured in the Mumbai edition of Times of India newspaper. Dated 25/07/2018, and praised for highlighting issues related to adolescent girls. Crimson Kisses is available on Amazon.
In her words “Poetry is when my Soul breathes through my words, pain bleeds through my ink and I witness a rebirth of my thoughts.”
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