Tired of Holding on to Nothing

They started off as
Two inseparable soulmates.
When one whispered in his heart,
The other listened and felt.
When one hurt himself,
The other bore the pain.
When one was lost,
The other was there to find him.

And then...
Between them, came,
A wall of understanding.
As peculiar as it may seem,
Understanding tore them apart.
This huge wall, the other climbed,
To seek and find him,
And return with him.
This huge wall,
Grew smoother and slipperier,
Making it hard for her,
To reach the top.
Many a times she fell,
Many a times she bruised herself,
Many a times, even when things seemed hopeless,
She never gave up.
While climbing this
Slippery, steep Everest,
She saw him.
She saw him busy,
She saw him not care,
She saw him laugh away...
Did he mirth at her foolishness?
Or was he just too happy to care?
She couldn't understand this,
Did he not care anymore?
Was he too stuck to his comfortable side,
Of this huge, formidable wall,
To look out for her?
She called out to him,
She called out for him,
He heard, never listened,
To her share of miseries.
Yet she called again,
He looked but didn't see,
The hardships she faced.
She tried once more,
He turned but didn't notice,
How she gave herself away.

Then arose out of the wall,
Thorns, of all broken promises,
Forgotten verses, abused dreams.
Piercing her straight through her heart,
Leaving it bleeding profusely.

She let go of the footholds,
To fall on the hard ground,
Never to climb the wall again,
Never to fall in love again.
She got up,
Brushed the dust off as before,
But didn't look back the wall anymore.
Instead, she began carving her own path,
On her side of the wall,
To lead her life the way she wanted to,
Where people would conquer mountains for her,
Where others would,
Give up being understood,
To understand her.
Where love had only one definition:
Her happiness.

-Me

Only...

Only one dream,
Only one hope,
Only one desire,
To achieve...
What? The mind knows not.
A cluster of images,
Forming day by day,
Giving substance
To an endless wait.
Filling gaps and holes,
Covering up voids,
Only to someday,
Reveal them.

Only one regret,
Of only one loss,
For only one time,
And then, despair to be fought.
In a pool of tears,
Spreading around,
Flowing boundless,
With unnatural energy.
The effect too harsh,
And unfathomable consequences,
Only to, someday,
Be wiped forever.

Only one thought,
Only one path,
Only one life,
To live...
How? The heart knows not.
The very essence,
Of movement,
However slight,
Yet alive.
Struggling to move,
With emotions restraining,
Only to, someday,
Cease living.

-Me

The Realm of Misunderstandings

Give away,
For in giving,
You receive.
Smile away,
For in smiling,
You glow.
Hope away,
For in hoping,
You believe.

Beat away,
Oh! Sweet heart,
Beat away,
For in beating,
You live...
You live, you energize,
You re-kindle an extinguished spirit,
You urge a forgotten thought.
You calm a pressurized mind,
You soothe a tormented soul.

Whisper away,
Oh! Lush lips,
Whisper away,
For in whispering,
You instill faith, long lost,
You clear the mist of misunderstandings,
You rejoice in expression,
You vent subdued feelings.

Sway away,
Oh! Silky hair,
Sway away,
For in swaying,
You unleash a disguised power,
You let loose the trapped energy,
You reveal a hidden magical essence,
You unravel the realm of misunderstandings.

Go away!
Memories of the good times say,
Go away!
Oh! Mist of misunderstandings,
Let my heart live,
Let my lips whisper,
Let my hair sway.
Let me prosper,
Let me flourish...
In my giving, yet not receiving,
In my smiling, yet not glowing,
In my hoping, yet not believing...

In my waiting, yet not obtaining.

-Me

An Ode to the WOMAN

Finally a woman bends...

Dark times envelope
A little household
With one man, his wife
And their little children.
Harsh words are exchanged
As the children grow up.
The adults find it unbearable
To stand the other's company.
A growl, a stomp
An enraged bang on the
Ancient expensive wooden desk.
Fury at its ultimate;
Anger at its peak.
A brewing storm breaks free now...
Threats, warnings, blackmail.
Backstabbing.
And the children growing up
Amidst the anguish
Amidst the pain
Amidst the anger
Amidst the fury.
There is a house to run,
The children need to grow,
Their health, is all that matters.
Education is necessary, so what?
At least they can read and write!
Utter chaos commotion in the house.
There is perhaps a better life ahead.
Yet, the woman bends.
She gets up and clears the mess created,
Picks up the broken, fallen pieces
Scattered all over the ground.
Makes sure that no glass piece,
Lies about so that
The children hurt themselves,
And yet she misses one...
Sadly, she misses one.
It pinches, it pains;
It reveals itself
Most hideously in the form
Of a deep cut,
Deep enough to reach the soul and scar it,
Give nightmares to the little children,
Mould them into the heartless beings
She always wanted to save them from.

"Whose fault is it, though?" asks someone.
"Of course, the woman's!" replies another.
"Why so?"
"She missed the piece of glass!
She did not perform her duties well!"
The other adult...
The dominant one,
Rejoiced by the orthodox,
Rather, the insignificant fools.
And, as always, the woman bends.
Gives in to the stick-straight pride of men,
That if bent, will break,
Lacking flexibility
Because every bit of it
Lies in the women who bend.

We continue to survive
We continue to stirve
All because, sometime,
Somewhere in the past,
When we were children,
Growing up...
A woman had finally bent,
To become out back bone,
Supporting us through
Think and thin of life,
With us through our
Darkest hours of need,
Not caring if she rested or not,
Just to ensure we were sound.
There is no amount of gratitude,
That may repay what she does for us...
A higher person, might just aim,
At being a better person
Than his present personality.
A lower person, might just write
A poem and forget about it later.
While the others, just watch and read
And pretend to admire and enjoy
The greatness equivalents in person and verses
While passiveness fills
Their hearts to the brim.

As the world continues to revolve,
As the sun continues to shine,
As the wind continues to blow,
As the sea continues its rise and fall,
A woman continues to bend,
For there are morales she needs to mend.
And thus, the woman finally bends.

-Me

Two sides to the same coin

Dusk appears over the landscape
Yet the moon seems hopeful.
Days are bright and cheerful,
But it is the night that seems happy.
A little treasure box,
Its lid inscribed, with verses
With words unspoken
With poems unwritten
With stories unheard.
The sun, trapped.
With only its radiance revealed
Through tiny gaps and holes.
Its heat of utmost agony.
On an ancient string of feelings
Occur some flaws with time.
The thread wears out
Through constant use.
Bonds weaken, energy is lost.
The heart, mind and soul,
Collapse under the pressure
Of the tension created.
The two ends of the lifeline,
Pulled across the length
To be ripped apart.
The anguish and pain exceed limit-
And then comes the night...
With its cool breeze
And calm demeanour,
Releases the tension, the stress, the pressure.
Rejuvenating the heart, mind and soul.
The body might bear the marks
But to serve only as bitter-sweet memories
On achieving the ultimate goal.
It is the day that is lost,
And the night that lives on...
The stars maybe out of reach,
At least, the moon appears clear tonight.
However...
Without the sun, the moon is nothing...
Without the sun, the moon is nothing.

-Me

Figure this out

I need a theme for this pic :|