The stories in my eyes
I like to call them dreams
Span across a myriad different themes
They come to me in full splendour
And technicoloured beams
I struggle to remember them on most days
Holding onto them by their seams
But they’re flighty and ephemeral
And not always what they seem
But today
Today I remember
More than a few snippets
So tell me
Would you like to hear
The stories in my eyes?
There’s a small city
On the other side of the world
With the tiniest shoreline
But the clearest skyline
And a heart of pure gold.
Hi people,
How’s this new year treating you?
How many resolutions are still a go?
For those with the travel bug, what’s one city which makes you feel more at home than home itself? I’d love to know!
Cheers and keep smiling.
As always, thank you for reading!
Love,
Varnika
Featured image ©Varnika Jain
I’m walking on a road
Paved with my own dreams
Bordered on both sides
With the weight of expectations
Every twist and every turn
Every treacherous meander
Designed to make me crash and burn
From the thoughts of a foul stranger
He says I can’t make it
I’d break
For I’m too fragile
He says I’ll have to fake it
With deceiving eyes
And a pretentious smile
I could listen to him
Fall for his beguile
Yet I choose to shrug him off
And walk that extra mile.
I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
– Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost
In the vast expanse
Of the night sky
I see a tiny star
Twinkling down
One in a million
Or more
And yet
It seems focused on just me
Trying it’s best
To uplift the dark
And send a sliver of light
To keep back the demons
And rekindle warmth
To fight back the sorrows
And recall happiness
If an unknown stranger
Can do so much
To make me smile
I think I owe it
To the world
To make it worthwhile.
There’s a place
Where all bad thing go to thrive
A place which goodness has forsaken
An apt dwelling for Satan
It’s a world within a world
A terrarium of terror
It can suck you in
Like a whirlpool
Or quicksand
Or even blackhole
And the void left behind
Will be all that remains
Of a person once known as you
But this isn’t all
No, not by a long stretch
This place which scares me most
Is where all my nights reside
Where every sleeping hour is always lost
Day after day, year after year
It’s the only constant I have ever seen
I am so used to it by now
That within its murky halls
I weave my way about
Knowing it more than seeing
In the dismal, dreary, dark.
Feeling it
More than believing
Of the misery therein contained
And tonight I’ve come to realise
I’ve finally made it my home.
I feel stuck inside my mind
Having the same dream,
On loop,
Night after night,
With no interlude.
It’s a paradox
I want to resolve.
Blank walls
And blank pages.
Nothing to account for
A life that was lived.
The still warm body
Looked peacefully at rest
Endowed with an eternal sleep.
Yet, still floating behind those closed eyes,
Lingering as if to prolong their goodbyes,
Were a myriad fluttering dreams.
Her eyes dreamt
Of an inky sky
Speckled with stardust
As a crimson hue trailed behind
The horizon dipping Sun
Shapeless clouds billowed by
And a lightning crack
Split the canvas in two.
She dreamt a dream
Of an endless night
As morning came tiptoeing in
To the fluttering of her eyes.
She sought him in her nightmares
She sought him in her dreams
When she woke up
She could hardly tell
The one from the other
Since he saved her in her nightmares
And she lost him in her dreams
The one became the other
Somewhere in between.
So she took to sleeping with him
Held closely in her arms
The warmth that he exuded
Ended the nightly tussle
And merged the happiness
Of the one with the other.
Love found them
On a starry night
From half a world across.
Through stormy thoughts
It made its way
Dispelling the dark, grey clouds.
Their hopeless lives
Now saw slivers
Of a bright sun’s shining rays.
The misery plaguing
Their happiness
Was similarly chased away.
And their restless nights
Of nightmarish dwam
Brimmed with dreams galore.
Yes, love found them one starry night
And crept into their hearts.
Featured Image : ‘The Starry Night’ by Vincent Van Gogh
Moonlighting Scrivener 