When The Heavens Whispered

heaven whispers

Photo Credits – Pinterest

It rained,
The pink of the flowers melted into a mystical mauve of matte,
As the skies spilled their tales into a cascade of condensated love,
The soil gained a unique freshness and sprayed the air with the calmness of a mended soul,
And the edges of the leaves curved concave,
As the nectar of the sapphire sky slept unto the moss green bed,
And they shone emerald green just like your eyes,
Only that I just saw the exquisite beauty of the emerald,
And never saw your true stone-self.

I feel the beguiling beads drop,
From the heavenly realm of jewels on my bruised skin,
It penetrated my heart when those beads quenched my thirst as they fell unto my lips,
The maple syrup of the sky,
Now reminding me of the maple of your mouth on my dry lips,
And the way it tasted,
As it gushed gradually down my throat and my tongue craved more,
Because your caressing hands on my shoulder took the weight of the world off them.
I sighed with satisfaction while this alluring peace my soul absorbed,
Like waffles absorb maple syrup.

But who knew that your nectar would drench me and slowly drip my self-esteem,
But then again, I was blithely unaware,
That your maple was poison in guise of the sweet bliss of your lips,
Breaking the waffle of my heart into shattered crumbles.

I drown myself in the tranquility of this secluded paradise,
I let the skies bleed purple shades of hidden bruises,
They blend into the amber of the threshold of the bijou empire,
It’s not raining anymore.

My lungs came to savour the breath of freedom,
I let the streams of the translucent skies dilute the colors of my tainted galaxy,
I ingested the shattered showers,
Because I was tired of my own tears quenching my thirst.

Maybe the soil will absorb the peace,
And the prying eyes will once again self-hydrate,
But my throat is nauseous of the taste of my lacrimal salts,
I won’t let heartbleed be my life’s sole flavour.

I’ll be a warrior and I’ll embrace my scars,
With heartbreak as my healing balm,
I won’t be a prisoner of your love,
I’ll let the rains take my misery.


Originally posted on Medium via ACorneredGurl, you can check it out here!

‘Ello Guys! Yes, I know, I’ve been posting after a really long time. Like a really, really long time but my final terminal examinations are in progress and have kept me busy. My last paper’s on 27th February and I promise to seriously dedicate myself to this blog since that day, plus my holidays will start from then therefore will have plenty of time to surprise you and keep you tuned! I seriously apologize for the inconsistency.


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Dust

Your ample words, and the horrifying motives hidden vaguely behind them,
Act like a sieve for my thoughts and emotions,
My every bit of sanity you’re extracting from my brain,
You are making me lose control as I cry out loud to the forlorn universe in which I’m dying.

My ripped soul’s translucent tears,
Evaporating into the empty voids,
Precipitate the hazy atmospheres of my brains,
And it rains.
It pours heavily.
Their stone-hearted cold criticism floods through my conscience with rage,
With every puddle of anguish within absorbing my mind’s peace.

Yes, I’m different.
My soul’s scarred with a million miserable cuts,
Blood streaming out from these suicidal scars,
Red paintings on my parched skin,
And oh! Such an immense bittersweet relief I perceive,
From these habitual portrayals of huge, red masterpieces,
Painted painfully by my blue-green veins.
The veins which bind me to reality,
But I hate this reality,
because it has you.

Scrutinizing every deed of mine,
So unfairly you treat me and drown me in despair,
Hence today I shall free myself of this reality I’m enforced to believe are of my own choices,

You thrived on the thought that you could control me,
Use me,
Betray me,
Torture me.

But now I will finally be free,
For I shall expose the deadened veins of my neck to fresh open air,
Which I breathed in, and urged me to swallow, and not let out,
The blood I produced in every breath taken in this atrocious atmosphere,
But I shan’t allow myself these bloody lumps of guilt to taste anymore,
I will finally now bleed to my death and your profound joy and rest in your grim grave with pleasure.

My freezing body is collapsed in front of your feet,
I’m making you witness eternal peace,
You walked over my identity, my personality, my feelings and mercilessly hurt me,
You unreasonably desired to gain control over me.

So finally now my mortal body is surrendered to you,
I am dead.
Finally devoid.
It’s so easy

So walk over me,
“Bless me” with your chapped feet,
Stamp on my soulless hollow lungs and shoulders,
And make me bleed my heart out.
Puncture my limbs and eyes out of their places,
Tear my scars and bruises apart,
Wound me deeper,
Snap my neck and torment me further.
Grasp your evil dagger and gleefully into my soul thrust.
Fulfill your lust,
Finish me, demolish me, and crumble me to dust.


This poem is to emphasize on how intense a person’s feelings can get on being criticised on every single thing. The people judging them for everything they lack do not realise that they’re hurting them.

It’s important that people realise that nobody can be perfect or be exactly matching the expectations of perfection, and it is not even required to be perfect. We all are unique and have the right to have our own beliefs and the right to choose for ourselves.

We all have a spark inside us, a reason to stay alive and survive. Embrace yourselves. Nobody can do a better version of you than you yourself. You are perfect in your imperfections. Thrive in your inner beauty.

To all those people battling and struggling in all sorts of wars in their lives, you unknowingly inspire millions of hearts and give them hope and courage. So have courage, have hope, and know you’re the best💞

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The Dreadful Demon

My past is filled with ravenous regrets,
As I’ve wailed over the souls who touched my hand and melted unto the sorrowful sky,
And these craving, miserable monsters crawled united,
And formed forlorn despair immortal, deep within my mortal body.

This despair is no less than a demon,
Its hands are made of guilt, and the legs are built of rage,
And the purpose of this dreadful demon’s life,
Is to ensure my death.

The dreadful demon in the pit of my stomach,
Reaches out its hideous hand through my intestine,
As its intriguing, filthy fingers slither around my throat as a python,
Making me gasp as I choke to death.

Sadnesss seeping through the atmosphere,
My vision is blurred,
Dizziness stirring in my numb mind in every breadth,
Ruby red tears rushing down my eyes as my heart shrinks and my body collapses.

My shrill voice aching for help,
Screaming like mad, desperate souls trapped with no way out,
But no aid I’ve received, for maybe this mystical monster has muted my voice,
With me the only being to perceive it,
Or maybe it is because nobody cares to hear it.
Yet I want to live.

I have no help.
No support, no hope, no reason to cling on to my soul.
All I have is me.
But this me has everything people expect to get from others.
I have strength.
I have courage.
I am mortal and I have a soul.
Over me, I certainly have control.
So nothing will be affected, until I allow it to.

This demon is part-dementor for it is sucking every bit of hope and joy within me,
It is part-vampire as it feasts on my bleeding soul and the blood gushing out from my veins fulfilling its bloodlust,
It is a beast from up above controlled by the Gods of Torment,
With multiple hands squeezing every ounce of hope from every source of hope.

But I’ll fight.

I’ll fight this tortured state.
I’ll emerge stronger than this beast which wants to murder me and dig my grave,
I will be strong and steady and attack, with confidence as my crossbow and determination as my dagger.
I’ll flourish.
I’ll stay alive.
I will get through it.
I won’t let the demon of my past buried in me make me perish.

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