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2017-02-07 16.25.29

There’s a place far from here
Bigger than the flying sky
Farther than the whispering stars
A long road leads to that lonely place
Passing through the desert
Wading through the forest
Crossing the highest mountains
Alongside a vast grey river
Under the shadows of rusted leaves
There’s a place where I don’t feel alone
It’s a place where I don’t feel lost
A place built of dreams
A place where I feel… Home
And I will be waiting for you
Waiting for you to come Home. . .



A walk on the sea

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Sometimes I feel like a boy who is the lone survivor of a wrecked shop, drifting in a life-boat with nothing to survive other than his own thoughts. All the wrecked ship just drowned, like the sea swallowed the whole ship into its deep mouth, and there’s not a single clue of it left on the sea.
   I’m on a rudderless life-boat. I have no direction of home. I have nothing to hold on to. I can see only blue veil of death surrounding me as far as my eyes reflect. But in all the death surrounding me, I have hope. I have so much of it that I’m burning so brightly with this hope that no destruction could extinguish this flame of hope burning inside me.
   I travelled day and night, believing that these tides will lead me somewhere, somewhere unknown but somewhere safe, somewhere away from this version of  reality, far away from this earth, the world which is always noisy with all the suffering of this world, all this consistent pain torturing each other from materialistic and impermanent possession of this world. These tides will take me far away from any version of reality. This reality used to be like a drop of water consistently falling on the same point on my forehead, from the high ceiling always bringing me back to the reality, never drifting me back to my own world.
   Now these tides are my guide to a utopian world. I found a compass on the boat but even before I could look at it and study my way to home, I threw it away. I was tired of being on the road, long empty road, lonely as a sparrow on the road, always finding something, when all along the road, it was with me all this time.
   First time in my life, I’ve found complete happiness that has brought me to peace. The kind of peace you’ll find on the face of a homeless man sleeping on the side of the road. This place is so serene. It’s like a stroll in my own world, my own garden, every plant planted with my own hands, watered them with my sweat, that gave the sweet smell of hard work, surrounded with ancient trees with autumn leaves that will never fall from the branches and will transform into new leaves and the shadow of these fruitful trees follows me everywhere, keeping me alive.
    But I believe with all my heart that in the end, when our reasoning and efforts cease to exist, we will all have to surrender and trust, without any doubt. Just like I left my fate to these tides, submitting and trusting in the same hand, that has written each of our destiny, that has created everything on the earth and sky and everything that exists in between, that same hand that guides us all.

After all these years

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PC- Gcu Trolls and Mubeen Sanjrani

I am a boy with scattered memories
I never felt so haunted in my life.
Slowly, a silent breeze began to blow
bringing the fragrance from the holy place.
The flickering of lights
the calling of birds
the freshness of grass
the silence of autumn leaves.
Every road, every path, every step
I took
leads me towards you.

The breezes at dawn
ever so silently
always brought me back to you
in the cage of my heart
to the beauty of this small world.
Even after all these years
a part of me still lives here
in the center of these four walls
with no roof and an infinite space.

Looking at the infinity makes me a wanderer
a wanderer;
roaming in the corridors
like a ghost with bones.
Always searching;
searching for the lost memory
searching for the essence of those carefree days
searching for answers;
from the empty benches and ancient trees.
Always searching. Roaming. Wandering
until these four walls and I become one.
A truly awakened soul…

I Know

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You walked into the room
and stole my heart.
Those freckled cheeks
those round glasses
those black hairs;
when fall on your face
casts a spell on me
when illuminated by the golden rays.
You take a strand of your hair
with your index finger, and
stroke it behind your ear, and
that becomes a moment of joy forever.

Sitting in the library… crying
whilst reading your favorite book.
You thought nobody saw you… hiding
but I saw melancholy in your eyes
I saw everything.
I wish I could come and
dry your tears
kiss those quivering lips.
But, I’m just too shy
I don’t know why. . . .

It breaks my heart
to see you with him
hand in hand
taking long walks.
I just wish I could be him.
I wish I could come up and
tell you how I feel.
But I’m just too shy, and
I don’t know why. . . .

I’ve talked to you
inside my head
a thousand times over
of all the things I’d say
of all the things I’d do.
I don’t know whether I’ll ever build the courage
to tell you what I fell
. . .

So, I wrote this poem
hoping that one day
you’d stumble across these words
and learn that
of all the people you know
I loved you the most.

I fell in love with you
the moment you walked in to the room
but you never knew
how much I loved you.
Oh Ash. . .
I just wish you’d know.
How could you know
I was just too shy, and
I don’t even know why. . . .

But that’s not how this poem really ends, my love
As I just wrote this final verse, and
looked towards you for the last time
with the look of goodbye.
I froze when I saw you
from the corner of the room
staring back at me… smiling

Everything fell into slow motion
when you walked towards me
put your hand on my shoulder
leaned in to put your lips near my ear
just enough
to feel your warm breath on my neck
hoping this moment would last forever
when you silently kissed my neck
and whispered
“I know. . . .

Give me Back my Childhood

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I am a broken child
I am a cursed child
I am an abused child
I am an accused child
I didn’t do anything to deserve this
Give me back my childhood
Give me back what I have lost

I am a child filled with horror nights
I am a child wrecked with promised love
I am a child broken with hollow trust
I am a child shattered into thousand pieces
I didn’t do anything to deserve this
Give me back my childhood
Give me back what I have lost

Third Letter

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September 25, 1995
Dear Catherine,

A month has passed since I’ve written, but it has seemed to pass much more slowly. Life passes by now like the scenery outside a car window. I breathe and eat and sleep as I always did, but there seems to be no great purpose in my life that required active participation on my part. I simply drift along like the messages I write you. I do not know where I am going or when I will get there.

Even work does not take the pain away. I may be diving for my own pleasure or showing others how to do so, but when I return to the shop, it seems empty without you. I stock and order as I always did, but even now, sometimes glance over my shoulder and write this note to you, I wonder when, or if, things like that will ever stop.

Without you in my arms, I feel an emptiness in my soul. I find myself searching the crowds for your face—I know it is an impossibility, but I cannot help myself. My search for you is a never-ending quest that is doomed to fail. You and I had talked about what would happen if we were forced apart by circumstance, but I cannot keep the promise I made to you that night. I am sorry, my darling, but there will never be another to replace you. The words I whispered to you were folly, and I should have realized it then. You—and you alone—have always been the only thing I wanted, and now that you are gone, I have no desire to find another. Till death do us part, we whispered in the church, and I’ve come to believe that the words will ring true until the day finally comes when I, too, am taken from this world.




Manuscript from Message in a Bottle by Nicholas Sparks