The Slacker’s Way

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Here I am full of vigor
Yet time passed in vain again.
Clock’s never tired of circling its arms
But the devil sings lullaby to my ears.

A chant that cajoles my feet
to the enthralling thoughts
of blankets and pillow.
Who am I to resist
when the bed talks to me
through its lines and comfortability.

Another day crush out
in the calendar.
Another slice of regret.
And then I remember a friend asked

“why do we adore wasting time for mediocrity?”

I just smiled and look at her regretfully.

Inspired by the Quote ‘Life sucks and Then it’s Great’

 Maybe life was all about striving and getting tired, a little bit of sprinkles of hope, motivation and wisdom and then faith. Maybe it was all about destroying one’s self and whoever survives — rebuilds to become better version of them.
Maybe life was all about making mistakes and doing it over and over again.. until the lessons were devoured by our minds.
Maybe life was all about being naked, stripping the last part of cloth, the last part of protection because only in nudity of the soul, you become yourself. Maybe that’s where you begin to know the real you.

Maybe life was all about filling one’s cup and then learning when to empty them.

 Maybe life shapes you through certain pressures, right molding, twisting, cuts and bruises, to strip off that last piece of cloth so you’ll be more comfortable, confident…

With your own skin and your own battle scars.

Maybe, sometimes you have to lose yourself once more, forget the old you, to become that person you want yourself to be.

Note to self:

Belated Happy 24th! You weren’t the scientist you dreamed of when you were just a fourth grader but you’re the writer of this blog. That’s whole a lot more cool because powerpuff girls were made by writers not by Professor X. 🙂

Be Awake

 

Our eyes is in waltz
When it’s bound to strike and ignite.
Was it just me, looking for signs
between those replicated sighs.
Is there any chance of crossing the lines
or am I the only one who thinks
that this is OUR time.

Halt the delusional myth
I created on my mind.
There were no cryptic things
it was just my imaginary universe
creating utopia — for you and I.

It seems safe to stay in this world.
But when reality slaps like ice splash in the face.

That’s when I know, it’s morning.

And I said ‘Hey self, be awake’.

 

 

The Man in Sleeve Tattoos

 

Their eyes throw stones of mockery,
Insolent and filthy, that’s what they see.
In every line drawn into his skin,
They believe he doesn’t fit in.

The least they know,
This man wrapped in tattoos,
On bended knees he sings.
Offers every thing to his King.

He screams, he growls,
And praises the Lord in fire.
Hypocrites don’t seem to matter.
GOD knows him way better.

Society thinks he’s a tinted threat
I wish they see what’s underneath.
Coz in heaven we are judge by our deeds,
And not by the tattoo on our sleeves.

 

1 Samuel 16:7

 But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”