Tag: story
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[216] Seasonal Existence
![[216] Seasonal Existence](https://rahulgaurblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/img_1226.png?w=1024)
i look at winter falling on your shouldersfrom far away but do you knowwhere I am winter doesn’tenvelope darkness like it doeswhere you are. I understand. I don’t know my place in the worldI’m always stuck between seasons Right now it’s the autumn of our memorieswhere I step on brown wilted leaves to get to…
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[215] Afraid
![[215] Afraid](https://rahulgaurblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/img_0594.png?w=750)
ever since i lost my dreams i’ve learned to sleepwalk in the darkit’s familiar, learning to walk againshades of light, i try to hold on again cries of melting flashes of emotions that we hold sacred in our minds it’s a secret unknown how we get lost and then we find ourselves again in the…
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[214] Seasonal Heartbreak
![[214] Seasonal Heartbreak](https://rahulgaurblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/tumblr_nisj6ztnlp1r1arpmo1_500.png?w=500)
Seasonal heartbreak merry go round I will wait in your mind till you are tired of wasting times that you are chasing time that you lost teardrops fall like raindrops fall on the balcony of our demise Why do we go around to be hurt all the time All this while we could have been…
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[210] Past vs Present
![[210] Past vs Present](https://rahulgaurblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/img_0505.jpg?w=1024)
For all i learn everyday I forget a little in return Vivid memories fail to rise when new experiences fight The ones that stay hide behind return to knock me down on the darkest days when they can step out in the familiarity of yesterday
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[209] beautiful things don’t ask for attention
![[209] beautiful things don’t ask for attention](https://rahulgaurblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/img_0504.jpg?w=1024)
Distorted voices play in reverse The sound of my waking comes in the form of a storm outside Is it morning or is it night? I can’t figure it out My brain’s got me pinned down Disorientation of my waking extends throughout the day and melts into the night of my irregular beating heart Who…
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[208] The Tale of an Imposter
![[208] The Tale of an Imposter](https://rahulgaurblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/img_0033.jpg?w=1024)
An imposter writes while looking over his shoulder His mind mindful of what’s left and not of what’s right The moon he sees hides only for him so he writes through someone else’s eyes A nagging in his brain remains that tells him he is just a reflection of a shadow that fades
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[207] Looking Again
![[207] Looking Again](https://rahulgaurblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/img_0213.jpg?w=1024)
How do I start writing? How have I written until this point in time? These questions plague my mind that is numb. Feelings don’t come and stay, they are fleeting like the time that I lost. The confidence that I cherished until now is nowhere to be felt. Ideas do come in my head but…
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[205] Last Attempt
![[205] Last Attempt](https://rahulgaurblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/img_9758.jpg?w=750)
Uncanny valleys of little sense Where everything feels not real at all You are at the far end of my regret I’ll be quite near to your regret in a while Wilted leaves fall out of time I try to revolve to maintain our orbits But you’re going astray into another galaxy Far away new…
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[204] Knock Knock
![[204] Knock Knock](https://rahulgaurblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/img_0216.jpg?w=1024)
The dreams deceive the reality that the morning light confirms Who would have thought that the light meeting the dark would be the reason of my demise In the morning I weigh a lot more in my mind Everything is a reminder of you and the red sunlight in my eyes makes me think of…
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[202] The Performance of an Artist
![[202] The Performance of an Artist](https://rahulgaurblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/img_9713.jpg?w=480)
Nothing satisfies an artist. We are creatures who’ve got self-doubt running in our veins. Everywhere we go we remind ourselves of our inadequacy to be better/best. We hold our failures on a pedestal rather than letting our victories dance around our mind. Even to call ourselves artist only springs up an emotion of cringe in us. The myth…
Smoke words every day. 