Poem 338 : Passive Passion

 Passive Passion

                             - T ABRAHAM

(SOURCE: AI GENERATED IMAGE)

A single strand taken in hand,

Each day picking up a band,

When a strand becomes a band,

Many arms and fingers holding,

Strands are holding and folding,

Monochromatic artist created,

Colours in the palette of psyche,

Each making a lock and key,

Colours turned to paint words,

Words becoming a bouquet,

Beauty gently beating about,

Felt little murmurs and shouts,

First tangled into unruly bands,

Day by day it becomes a beauty,

Churned butter becoming soft,

Letters turning words to draft,

The days have gone so far,

Till it resides as a sweet passion,

As the heavy duty still succeeds.

Poem 337 : Stringed Dreams

 Stringed Dreams

                              - T ABRAHAM

(SOURCE: AI GENERATED IMAGE)

The loving nature turned down,

Unkempt and stubborn pleasure,

Made from firm bricks and stones,

Unbending and unyielding bones,

Filtering out dull and dark clones,

A deep despair covers the surface,

Damp coldness around the fireplace,

The flames unable to fight back,

An unfelt ignition draining back,

Hotness and warmth being lagged,

Murmur of gloom and sadness felt,

Highly passive and possessive attacks,

Which tip toes and comes to drag,

Bending and breaking the strings,

Tunes and tones wavering within,

None being felt or heard outright.

Poem 336 : The Soothing Rhythm

 The Soothing Rhythm

                                       - T ABRAHAM

(SOURCE: AI GENERATED IMAGE)

Tight strings holding honestly,

Sharp strings sharpened sleek,

Tunes turning two needles away,

Lights flickering to be turned on,

Pulsating sensations lingering,

Keys tuning softly and gently,

Distractions being destroyed,

Demons being stabbed to death,

When life blooms with a breath,

Patches fall apart to make nets,

Captured the soothing essence,

Loss turning into strong lessons,

Fingers scrolling and controlling,

Moving speedily and steadily,

Sickness turned to strength readily,

A rage racing and calming itself,

Diminished vanity turning to sanity,

Real air becoming a peacemaker,

Finally trashing the pacemaker,

Fake essence and senseless drama,

It still moves apart like an enigma.

Poem 335 : End Of Drama

 End Of Drama

                              - T ABRAHAM

(SOURCE: AI GENERATED IMAGE)

True words being uttered only once,

But the false and fakeness repeating,

Uttered one time and never undone,

Sequence being repeated in long run,

Fairness turned to dark under the sun,

Sunshine kept hidden by the fatigue,

Sleepy head moving out in the dark,

Eyes lost their glamour and spark,

Dull drowsiness and wobbling in air,

Bravest step taken by one who dares,

Even though evil follows backward,

Moving and pressing towards light,

To have some delight in the sunlight,

A darkness dared to come behind,

Swords of freedom kept hidden,

The day it was raised against a curse,

Swords and shields kept protecting,

Freedom aroused from one last verse.

Poem 334 : Adverse Diversity

 Adverse Diversity

                                 - T ABRAHAM

(SOURCE: AI GENERATED IMAGE)

Strings of dissimilar strands,

Stiffness and broken strands,

Unable to weave soft garlands,

Threading apart to difference,

Unwelcoming the sufferance,

Anticipating mutual acceptance,

Repelling and rebelling apart,

Darkness and light can resolve,

But friction present unsolved,

Softer strands tearing loudly,

And cheapest rough threads,

Are chewing loud and rudely,

New born strands dying out,

Friction causing smoke to come,

When the binaries meet to rebel,

None can compel to stay mutual.

Poem 333 : Normalising Actions

 Normalising Actions

                                - T ABRAHAM

(SOURCE: AI GENERATED IMAGE)

Days gone past without being fast,

Speeding up and gearing the most,

Soon starting to glare and distress,

Blank stares and emptied witness,

Sharp words and tongues playing,

The games of hit, rush and smash,

Unleashing the normal conditions,

Undeterred and determined spirits,

Directions directing the highways,

Boarding and heading very faraway,

Resilience standing unsilenced,

Loud enough it sounds and heard,

Standing amidst cloud and doubt,

Always seen amidst heavy crowd.

Poem 332 : Unbled Wounds

Unbled Wounds

                            - T ABRAHAM

(SOURCE: AI GENERATED IMAGE)

A dying rose lying in the garden,

With its petals and greens intact,

Meeting its death on mother land,

A hand which tried to hold it back,

Could only hold onto the thorns,

Piercing and gushing out blood,

To bring life to the fading petals,

Wounds that bleed feeling no pain,

But the eternity speaks with no gain,

Petalled rose being soaked in red,

Both meeting their final destiny,

Crushed hands clutching the rose,

The grab drops and so does the life,

Departs away within one toss.