44Bangalore, India
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My self-summary
I look
but do not say a word
as I evaluate every possible
response you could say.

There is friction and sparks fly
Between my shadow and I --
Both bent on amalgamation,
Both wanting freedom from the other.

Shadow is flexible
and it’s wings dark and obscure
Quietly spreads its domain….
Over any shape, any figure,
in the form it takes

And I stand erect;
Under weight of armor
Putting up a fight
Shielded by my cover.

I am a witness,
I am a scribe
with imagination’s fervor
and so I look,
but do not say a word.
... I am a spectator....

I am what I am
You cannot change that.
What I’m doing with my life
I pretend ...
That I can live forever -- that Time
Has no puissance but that which I afford Him --
And so, I can wait, I can be happy tomorrow,
Sleep is for the dead; but its ghosts haunt my waking ...
I feel ...
Too much -- too deeply to be directionless,
Too real for imagining, and yet the familiar eyes
Hold nothing of recognition -- only my reflection --
A meeting of shadows in sunlit glass;
I touch ...
The downy wings of hope, in wonder,
In reverence, in need, in hunger;
Alas, it burns my fingers as a flame,
A sacrilege, self-defined ...
I worry ...
That I am alone; that in my longing
I have forsaken all -- but oh, what reward,
What smile divine should light the path to freedom --
And how can I but heed the siren's call?
I yearn ...
For having too much, for fear of bursting,
And then, when by the pouring of my soul
I lie, a vessel emptied, I cry again
For what was had, and lost;
I am
A woman,

I understand
That life is what you make it,
That sometimes, the coat of many colors
That marks your triumphs brightly, blends only
To loneliest of grey ...
I say
That we are made by life, shaped,
Broken, perhaps -- unmade and voided --
But always, the core of us remains, waiting
With only faith, with trust, to be reborn;
I dream
Of bluest waters, reaching
With unnatural hands toward the faded sky,
Of dolphins that wander in seas without limits,
Carrying me water-breathing past corals and clouds ...
I try ...
To lead by example, knowing
That merely the telling holds no power;
A gift of giving is merely a day, while
A gift of knowing spans forever;
I hope ...
That my darkness holds you gently,
That pain is halved by sharing, that feeling
Wields nothing past the words it summons,
Except that it touch you with only healing ...
I am
A human,
I’m really good at
I can only imagine
What it's like to sacrifice
How it feels to do without
What it takes to pay the price
To offer all I have
Unto others with a need
I can only imagine
For myself, I live in greed

I can only imagine
What it's like to be alone
How it feels to be rejected
How to get by on my own
To never share a secret
To feel empty deep inside
I can only imagine
For myself, I live in pride

I can only imagine
What it's like to be abused
How it feels to lie awake
Feeling angry, tired and bruised
To have no friend to turn to
Filled with rage I can't release
I can only imagine
For myself, I live in peace

I can only imagine
What it's like to know such pain
How it feels to wake each morning
With a past I can't explain
To live a constant nightmare
That no else can parallel
I can only imagine
But for them, they live in Hell
The first things people usually notice about me
The flame in my eyes
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
My mind says that anything I do
Is too insignificant
Because I am wanting
In qualification.
Needless to say,
This includes my Artwork.
the paint drops from the brush
Creates patterns,shapes..........
The curious child asks in glee
Is this how God created us?
I smile,for on this mortal plane
creation ceases to exist.
Creation is divine,
we,the mortals of lost hope
can only copy the image.
Six things I could never do without
I spend a lot of time thinking about
There is but little hope for slaves of fortune,
Who will not share their failures with their will.
Mastered by the wind, they blame their portion
On chance, which sets their course for good or ill.
But ones bad luck fits snug on who one is;
Ones fortune is the lyrics of one�s song.
Each will find the label that is his
Upon the luggage he has brought along.
To be a cause, one must first admit
That one was never merely an effect.
Freedom comes to those who shoulder it,
Bearing weight that others would reject.
Slaves believe they read, while masters know
They write, though angels sing and cold winds blow.
On a typical Friday night I am
lazy days
lonely nights
looking for a lonely star
who'd keep me occupied.

looking at the widespread sky
being muself, a seeking soul
gazing at the moon so bright
questioning the relevance of existence

a blow of breeze,a balmy night........
to animate
the freezing scene

so the wings of the fairies
seem to tease the lonely moon
because it is standing still
and they are free to move

lying down upon the meadows
dream of flying up so high
reach the stars, sit on the moon
dancing ballet with the clouds
i question again the relevance of existence.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
Hope,as i hoped is not the creature of sensation.
A miracle's the work of only days.
Nor can faith be founded on conviction
Unsustained by ritual and art.
Knowledge of the senses is creation
Kindled by a truth that sense betrays,
As faith emerges whole from ancient fiction,
Holding quiet commerce with the heart.
You should message me if
you are mature in mind,interested in friendship and understands the meaning of it,interested in music,art,philosophy.

do not communicate if you are--under 50 years,dull,flirt,immoral,gossipy,droll,trying to pass your time.
The two of us