Missing

There are few who can really lay claim to knowing missing you,
I need not prove it, when I say I belong to the missing few,
Because I am one of the few, who tried getting away from you,
Only to realize that it was one of the hardest things to do.

I thought, losing you would be as simple as just walking away,
But no matter which direction, I just couldn’t lose my way,
Every road I took already had the footsteps of your anticipation,
Every turn I took, showed me, that you were the path and destination.

Weary at finding you in every corner, I grew suspicious of land,
I believed, the water was one place you couldn’t force my hand,
So, with a paddle in each hand, I headed for the expansive blue,
How much of a surprise I was in for, I had absolutely no clue.

With every gust of wind that innocently toyed with my sail,
I began to hear the bellows of how tragically I was fated to fail,
Because you were the waves, bracing and coasting me ashore,
Only to prove to me again, that you were the sea and shore.

That was when I decided, it was the earth holding me back,
And that flight was the only way to let go without turning back,
So I strapped the sturdiest wing available to each shoulder,
All the while wondering why it took me this long to get bolder.

It must have hardly been a moment since I took to air,
When the drag of your memories, became too heavy to bear,
It was not until every feather refused to any longer cling,
Did I come to agree, that you were the wind and wing.

Call it sour grapes, and call my words a failure’s grumble,
But failing to get away, has shown me how to be humble,
Humble enough to share with those still thinking of escaping,
That the word ‘miss’ shall always be a part of missing.

Although a Beacon, this one is for the Mirror, since it is true as much as it is fantasy. She doesn’t need to be named, because she understands (or atleast she pretends she doesn’t).

Falling Leaf

Nestling in the sun, tethered to the strongest stem,
Looking at cousins in my shadow, I laugh at them,
Basking in the glory of my sun, I miss the impending grey,
I should have listened to those stories of the sunshine and hay.

I soon feel the link weakening, my only life cord,
And finally came the snap, one, none of us could afford,
Free to fly, no wonder they say, death is the final freedom,
But the looming ground distracted me from all this wisdom.

Floating and fluttering, every second of the way,
Surprised and shocked, I clearly have nothing to say,
Hopeful and helpless, in a free fall to the ground,
Spellbound and deafened, I await the dreadful sound.

Whitewashed feelings hover for directions around a blank mind,
One that never found itself put into such a bind,
Their silence is temporal, my silence is eternal,
Their sound is external, my peace is internal.

Stripped of my ego, shorn of my pride,
There is no friend left to even confide,
Buried in the pain, sunk in the sorrow,
There is not even a smile, left to borrow.

Looking around, I see many more falling,
All at the end of their ropes, no more stalling,
All of us were together, and each of us was alone,
Yet, every one of us, stubborn to the tombstone.

The last we hear is a crunch, the last we see are feet,
As we depart. hoping to never again meet,
A few feet away, a sapling begins to sprout,
We grin, having learnt, what life is all about.

This is one for the Mirror, because it best reflects the rock-bottom that my life is at today. Despite being crushed like a leaf on the forest floor, the only thing i can now see is the sprouts of a new beginning.

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