The Start And The End


The feeling of love was born,

When her infatuation for him eventually died,

But his desire to be with that imperfect girl,

Eternally and unconditionally survived;

– Parth Bhatia

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Misdiagnosed


Visit a doctor, they said.
I’d miss her.
I’d cry.
Weep.
Scream.

I tried to find her.
In soaring clouds,
In shooting stars,
In empty rooms,
In romantic books.
Anthropomorphism, he said.

I’d listen to her voice,
In gushing wind,
In chirping birds,
In melodious songs,
In busy crowds.
Anacusis, he exclaimed.

I tried to hold,
Her fragile fingers,
Her wild heart,
Her divine soul,
Her irrestible body.
Love, the doctor sighed;

-Parth Bhatia (www.facebook.com/wordsiwishiwrote)

Here and now


Cristian Mihai

tumblr_navmpw7U4D1r5gmiko1_400Anton Chekhov once wrote that any idiot can face a crisis – it’s day to day life that wears you out. And he was right. I believe that most of us are strong enough to conquer the reality we live in, but so few of us are actually in control. It’s the ups and downs that make life interesting, to say the least. The struggles, the fights, the losses.

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Rare Love, Ubiquitous Pain


True love is eternal,
Time just passes away,
And people fade away with passing time,
But memories forever stay;

Holding your hand I could never walk,
In your heart I could never stay,
But I still live my meaningless life,
Thinking of you everyday;

When I’d not be able to recuperate from heartbreak,
And on the inevitable deathbed I would lie,
My last wish would still be,
To be in your arms and happily die;

When I die and leave you alone,
Don’t think of me and give your heart pain,
Because I’ll be with you forever,
And fall on your cheek as rain;

I was the faithful lover’s fire,
You were the interminable rejection’s rain,
Your solitary deluge over my loving heart,
Left me alone with unfading, fatal pain;

 

-Parth Bhatia

The Victim Of Love


Time will eventually fly,
People will inevitably die,
Memories will be forgotten,
And so will be I,
But I still promise my dear,
That I’ll never make her cry;

A million words won’t make her love me,
I know because I’ve tried,
A million tears won’t make her miss me,
I know because I’ve cried;

My crying soul she did not see,
And my eternal feelings she did not understand,
But I still hope that she’ll come back to me,
I still hope that she will come back and hold my hand;

Maybe someday she’d realize,
That my love for her is true,
Maybe someday she’d realize,
That her heart loved me too;

Her beauty lies in her splendid smile,
Her beauty lies in her ecstatic eyes,
And to catch a glimpse of her beautiful face,
My loving soul daily dies;

True love gives you golden memories,
No one can ever steal,
Lost love leaves you with heart deep wounds,
No one can ever heal;

From the cunning trap in her beauty’s labyrinth,
My loving, fragile heart would never be freed,
Because it’s not her mesmerizing kisses that I yearn for,
But it’s her charming whisper that my ears need;

From the dirty river of lust I stay away,
And in the refreshing air of true love I breathe,
Because it’s not her flawless body that I yearn for,
But it’s a glimpse of her beautiful face that I need;

The influx of nostalgia for the time I spent with her,
Would rupture my veins and make my heart bleed,
Because it’s not her romantic aura that I yearn for,
But it’s a single drop of her eternal love that I need;

When the epoch of my last days would take place,
And on the inevitable death bed I would lie,
I would exclaim that my last wish would still be,
To be in her arms, and happily die:

-Parth Bhatia