Pans dark with age.
Burning – triggered coal to crimson
Golden tar browned by ancient sun
Flames of sword
Star- treks of warrior
Through our times
We cry, we laugh
We worked, we talked
Our flames fanning
Our heart gasping
We search with eyes
Our minds as drunk
Heavy with age
And light as gray
These flames that fanned
The light of our fame, we too must learn the rhythm of fate!
What is it about his reckless speed that spurs my feet.
is it his callous fist, firm but tender?
I will forever wonder upon
that one that came in a storm
with cupid’s bow threatening to quail all in his path.
Yet he held my breath.
for a while, it seemed…
The echoes, oh the tempest
And whirls of outburst
Of infernos sacred flames,
threatening to engulf all in its path…
Till then came the storm, to reveal
proud Sagittarius upon his hind,
begging the nymph for a drink by the streams –
the stream of life!
Catch me if you ever can
He implored arrogantly at Aries’ silent stance
Coyly she would stare demure,
covered in innocence
for he is yet to discover
how true of a match she truly was.
They would race down the hills and prance around in 4 moonlights
each recently holding on to the other’s heels
till spent he laid forever conquered in the flame
His face in deep dismay
for suddenly he would realize
how he had never expected to be burnt by a nymph-of-a-ram
So I asked the tides,
with arms stretched as wide
What a woman wants?
It responds with grin as wild
“How would I know,
pray how can I tell”?
with winks and wry smiles of
Who-knows-what it is a woman wants?
Forever and always
Right there in the sunshine
The earth and all its brilliance
Where we played with mud
We had such love!
Fueling the ovens that baked the pies
The clayed pies of our pride
We let strife be
Within the breast of innocence
Beneath the soils of our feet
Two fragile limbs
You and I
Filled with such peace
We had it all
Now and for all time …
Love creates warmth…
within the coldest of hearts…
It fills the emptiest of voids.
A helping hand in the dark
A shoulder when you ask,
A key to the field of your dreams
And a guide down the sacred paths
Of your earnest embellishment…. Such is love!
He will say the words endlessly, he would
she would listen with bated breath
quietly, struggling silently to believe
in the cavalry of his conviction.
The winds, they were their witness, how they echo
each syllables, echoes so savage,
their whip slicing the gravitating groves,
growling, groaning yet glowing with unyielding darts.
Yet she will listen,
struggling to quell the river of doubts slowly engulfing her
their rippling robes cascading softly down the nape of
fear for what-not-with, if not so? Continue reading
The signs are there all along, we just overlook them, sometimes we underestimate. The escalating frequency of tantrum and put-downs. Appalling generosity turning selfish, more and more. The verbal explosions of irritation and subtle manipulations to have his way. Her grievances constantly turned around on her, so that everything is her own fault. His growing attitude that he knows what is good for her better than she does. But the woman also sees that her partner is a human being who can be caring and affectionate at times, and she loves him.
― Lundy Bancroft, Why Does He Do That?: Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling Men