WHERE IS THE FIRE IN ME?

 This poem is dedicated to KIM who is the muse of this poem highlighting diligent passion.

I remember the passion, rage and love expressed in my dream

It’s been ages I can’t remember the fire will it even scream?

I build it up piece by piece to make it whole

But the spark is lost will I even reach my goal

 

The fire torch I use to carry wasn’t afraid of the sea

But deep down I could see it’s fading it is coming for me

All I wanted was to keep it safe from the sea’s with depth

But gradually it’s shinning as I’m inking with the sound of crept

 

I could hear the siren, feel the darkness yet, I’m numb

Where could I be? Or who could I even be?

I feel the tightness in my throat with loss of words

My heart sinked and reached the challenger deep                       

 

All I could see is water all around, suffocating, struggling to land in the ground

All I wanted was to protect my fire torch, was it too much to ask or bond?

As I’m losing a piece or whole self, fading, drifting, or sinking I still wanted to ink

How long could I handle this devastated self the lost me it’s gone within a blink

 

What have I even done to lose my only rope of success

I hanged it like treasure never feared and ran for my race

I worked hrs and yrs to improve! with even failures I trace

But at the last I couldn’t even win or prove was handed not trophy but it’s lace

The lace which makes me stand beside the winners

The face I see everyday and everywhere, the will, the flame is shattered with shame

How will I speak or who shall I share I’m scared, afraid even of my own name?

I yearn the fire it’s gracious touch where is the me I lost come back I won’t blame

Img: Flames surrounding a women 

Text: The search of the lost fire

Suggested by: KIM

From:journeytopoetry@gmail.com

PERPLEXITY

 

The confusion of existence and it's frequent search of meaning is exhausting.Everything is a perspective and a new angle to view?Have anyone really found a common point with different perspective?It's like the tale switches:When a hero speaks or a villain the right and wrong is a perspective.It's just a point of view of my own still speaking from a perspective.

As the entangled state of perplexity grows it's difficult to understand or go with the flow.The relearning to unwind the climber plant and escape.The thought takes time to understand and come alive.

I want to secure my foot,

Because I fear uncertainty

I want a place, to stay!

Because I want permanency

 

I don’t want to just roam

Because it doesn’t have a destiny

I want to stay as roots

Because I need a place

 

I want to free myself

But I fear uncertainty

I don’t want to trust

Because they lie certainly

I don’t want to trust

Because it drifts with perspective

I want my soul's leash

Because I fear uncertainty

Img: Papers flying around representing the confusion within a dim atmosphere 

Text:Perspective or point of view

From:journeytopoetry@gmail.com

SPEECH OF VITAL SPARK

 

Written to illustrate the souls existence and delima with immortality of the energy existing in life forms.This poem reflects an emotional theme which represents the bitterness of the soul individually.It is the lost voice of every soul's not individual but the energy who is tired of existing and running within a drafted frame who questioned, there desire to escape the eternal life and become mortal.The irony shows the contrast between humans life with life and death in a fixed manner while the energies desire just the minor escape route to breathe.The hell life of breathing counted breathe and the contrast, exact opposite.It's just a representation from a different point of view.

Neither can I drown in sea nor can I suffocate myself

But a time comes when I must open myself

The unique mechanism that I possess is obtained from layers

Which questions my choice am I existential?

 

Neither can I get buried nor can I burn with fire

My sole existence proves that I am a liar

The things you see is not the truth

I change forms from one to another and exist

Neither can I be created nor can I be destroyed by anyone

I am an energy that is trapped no fun

My existence is unknown, my life's a long run

Surrounding is unknown my identity is to be questioned

 

Neither can I get control of my life nor can I flee

I am destined to circle in the vicious cycle

I can make decisions based on selective choices

Alas, who will understand I don’t need any answers

Neither can I understand you nor can you understand my point

It's difficult to explain when things are correlated joint

For the wise ones stop it others enjoy life

For the sake of life stop! drop the knife

 

Neither can I change minds nor can you change with time

For now, let's leave it I am done no nime

I perfectly wasted your time what a rhythmic rhyme

Forget the conversation it is stressful go get some lime

Nime: to add or increase

Img By:シロノ Shirono

Img: It represents the junction of hell and heaven with the gate also a girl dressed red running away from the hell with crows around.

Text: It is a poem about Soul

FROM :ADMINjourneytopoetry@gmail.com

JUST A RANDOM CONSCIENCE LANTERN

 

Written to express trust and its betrayal, just like the lock and key provided among multiple individuals about secrets. It represents the fragile nature of trust. Who should be trusted? Maybe it is situational or a change with the drift of time. It also expresses the pain of bleeding using papers, unsure and confused whether it will ever see the light or reach the world. The symbolic relation of lock and key expresses loyalty and bonding deeply. It shows that trusted individuals are given keys, but the game begins when you can trust and remain free. Even the bonding of the lock is confined, and it can create fears of uncertainty. It represents the bitter truth about trust and partially about the nature of empathy. It expresses the pain hidden in every action, the minute melancholy is expressed even in great times. It's subsided due to the grand opening ahead, but still, that emotion is also validated.

 

I am inking the paper with poetries

The swift movement of the pen is what remains free

Just like the doves given wings and directions set free

As soon as the autumn sheds tree

 

The pens are dropped, wings are locked within confided locks

Then the days spin, nights ring winter begins

The papers are locked left over in stocks

Every little thing from synchronizing beats are kept in box

 

The change of season is very fast in here

But the emotions are scattered in it is what I fear

The ones who could decode and peek into deep layers

Are the keys I want to hide from I am scared

Just like those keys made Kafka's writing flare

But I'm still confused partially was it in his prayer

It was a piece he didn’t wanted to show hidden in layers

Out there are lots of keys who don’t care

 

 They just want to understand and give hopes isn’t it trespass, won't you fear?

Just because he is dead doesn’t mean your authorized to share his works, I think the soul will bear

Now tones of people will tell me it isn’t right, cause his works flared and is shining bright?

For I am not concerned with his success and fame after life cause I believe there are lots hidden when he was alive

The piercing fate is what lies

No one was there to share his cries

After his death everyone lured and tries

Well it was his dream he could have raised high and fly

IMG BY:Bored Panda

Img:  A girl is a lock in her back with key in hand

Text: A poem about trust issues

From: Admin journeytopoetry@gmail.com