Subtleties

The bending road, curves into the impossibilities of life,
along with the road the mind travels.
It stops as the red dot emerges, spreading.
The minds starts to wonder as to what lies beyond itself
It tries to grasp the subtleties governing it.
Unable to grasp, it shudders
Had it truly never understood itself?

All this time, never had it stopped and thought.
Life had went on, like a lazy stream.

Was happiness, gaining respect by being what someone had asked one to be
Or
Is unhappiness living a life in which one truly doesnt know oneself,
living a life of dishonesty, not only cheating others but also oneself.

The board of Destiny

The pond in the gloomy sunset looked red
like blood
A bad omen.
Foreshadowing the destruction the morning would cause?

What had I done?
For
the humiliation I had felt, the hardships I had faced
how much had I let vengeance take over me...

Would I be the destruction of the world I knew,
of my husbands, my brother, my sons, the brother of my husband they knew not of.
Would I be the cause of bloodshed, the unrighteousness that will come about in the next eighteen days?

Or.
Was all this never in my hands
Was it already etched into palms, written on foreheads, laid somewhere out there as the fate of mankind long before the epitome of time came about.
Was I just a player in the hands of destiny?
A dice thrown as a clever strategy to end what needed to end, and to start anew?

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Dedicated to: Panchaali

Influenced by: The palace of Illusions and the Mahabharata

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The thread no longer intact

What had I expected?
A thread forever stretching, connecting us.
Regardless of the circumstances, regardless of time--and its way of snapping invisible threads

How easily one forgets the brighter days, only remembering those few dreary ones...
Which end up changing relationships.

Maybe we understand little, assume too much
And expect a lot more then we should
Delving forever into the mistakes? that the other makes

What remains now are just the awkward silences between conversations filled with fluff

The thread no longer intact...

Believing in Beliefs

A few years ago I would have considered myself to be spiritual. I believed strongly. I believed regardless of what may be happening. Something inside of me that I could hold on it. It enabled me to get through many things without having to look for something beyond it, outside of me. And then suddenly the belief disappeared. Just like that. I can say it may have happened around three years ago when I was washed away by other things, superficial things. I tucked the belief inside of me, I ignored it and almost let it all go. Ironically at that time I assumed that I was more spiritual, a stronger believer. But I was wrong. And when things unexpectedly started hitting me, tripping me, hurting me I looked for support in other places not once believing in the belief hiding somewhere inside. And just when I thought I had failed completely, I believed once again. Suddenly it was back. And I found myself on the path again. The belief had bought back a lot to me. A closure and a beginning. It bought back confidence, a sense of direction.
Whether it is belief in God, or a child's belief that their blanket can keep them safe or other beliefs, it is beliefs and the hopes that they bring that keep us going at times.

Someone special

In the path of life we come across many people

Some we never forget.

They are the people who...
Even though at one point may not travel the path with you...
return in the form of warm memories.

People who are special and unforgetful.
Who have made you smile, made your days brighter.

Happy Birthday Zephyr27
May all yours dreams come true.

A glassed fu'ad

Ties.
Build homes in hearts...
of glass.
Beautiful but very fragile
Easily shattered by a mistrusted stone.
Into thousands, millions of pieces...
forever broken?
Never to be rebuilt?

Time, it will take to put the pieces together again.
A smile, a glimpse
a something
may help.
But how long will it take...
to look upon the glass home once again.
Before its shattered by just a gust of wind.

The faceless women

The seat I sat on felt too hard. The air too suffocating. I was alone. Along with my sorrows. The grueling facts of life haunting me. Confusion following me around. Many stops came and went by but I remained alone. Until a couple got in, somehow I could tell they were a couple even though there was no physical indication as such. The man was tall, with abnormally large hands. They seemed to hang around, flopping about, seeming too useless. And then there was the women, I looked at her, without knowing whether she looked back. Her face hidden. It was strange not knowing whether she was looking at me or not. So I quickly shifted my eyes away from her, and looked out the window at the blur of trees, and people. Delving once again into my deep confusion, not knowing where to go, what to do, how to do. Choices looming at me. But unknowingly my eyes shifted once again towards the couple. Now they were talking, low whispers inaudible to me. They seemed to be arguing. But I realized quickly enough that they weren't arguing, arguing took two people. Here only the man was talking, and she was listening, nodding and shrinking back. And then she said something, something more then a monosyllable. Right away his large hands shot at her wrist and held it, not affectionately. The women froze, and so did the man, they stared at each other, the man with a stern expression, the women I imagined with fear. For a few seconds they stayed so, and then suddenly the man released her hand and they both went back to staring out the window. It suddenly struck me then as to how much I had. So much more then this women. Much more then many others. I had freedom, I had choices. Having confusion from choices is having life. Not having any confusion is having no life. I got off the next stop, with a resolve in my heart, and the faceless women's face always inked into my mind.