The Red Rose – story of Ora

The Red Rose

When spring blossoms in the atmosphere, new life nurtures.

Various colours, shapes and sizes,

All special in their own way.

The most beautiful rose in town,

The crimson colour of red it holds.

The sweet smell captured in the finest mixes of scents,

Each coil reveals a story.

The red rose

As perfect as perfection could be,

Till the day a petal sheds,

Then more…

The beauty is no longer admired with such ore’

Life can sometimes feel like that : the red rose with its lost beauty.

The red rose

Having shed the few petals makes the difference.

People no longer want the red rose in their perfectly manicured gardens.

Have you ever admired the red rose ?

I have

I am the red rose”

Yet I believe and know;

I still hold the beauty within my cuts and creases,

As pretty as I once blossomed, opened each coil, flourishing making the earth pretty.

The red rose still captures the sweetness of nature

-A.P-

One of those type of days

It’s one of those type of days,

One where I just feel like snuggling with you, so very close.

Almost makes me want to feel all your affection.

Your arms around me, keeping me warm, whilst my heat radiates into you.

It’s one of those type of days,

Holding your hand whilst I walk, no matter what the destination bd

Being around you is all that is important to me;

Oh what an amazing feeling it is.

I want to make you feel special in all ways possible.

I want to make you smile at all the small things we do together.

I want to listen to you,

I want to know you more in depth, anything and everything baby.

It’s one of those type of days,

When the sun goes down, you rest your head on my chest while I caress your hair and make you unwind from all the stress of the day.

Listen to my heart beat and sooth your soul.

I want you to feel like the very special man you are.

I want to cradle you in my arms and make you feel at ease, with no worries of the world.

You are everyones dream and right now I want to live that dream with you beside my side and share it with you.

-A.P Ora

The other side of the fence

The other side of the fence

It’s not always greener on the other side

Now when I look at it,

It can be as dry as this side.

Dealing with the low moods,

No smile to respond to

No normal feelings like the other,

No gratification

Unless you aren’t on the side you will not know.

Yes, it’s not always greener on the other side

When there are tears they don’t know how to wipe them,

Thus anger and frustration a result.

When moods are low, jokes aren’t funny and that leads to suspicion.

And when nothing works, even a raised tone of voice to the dead mind seems right to them.

It’s not always greener on the other side

When I glance at the paddock and hope I was the one giving empathy, I realise that I may not have been the right one.

The other side is as dry as this side,

Rarely will there be one that wants to jump this side, its all a delusion that this side is greener.

The other side of the fence,

Is as hard as it is to live on this side.

-A.P.

Anxiety in MY WORDS’

A dark feeling lingering around, constantly around the clock.

Black heavy clouds, following me around, thunder growling so loud, lightening bolts striking all over my body each time I get a thought, than it pours down rain, washing away my identity.

The sun keeps setting each moment, almost like I’m stuck in a cycle of repetition.

I never see the sunrise and the morning dew on nature.

There is no light reflecting off the rain drops, no warmth, no photosynthesis anywhere.

The wind has stopped, nothing moves, everything is at standstill, the only rollercoaster is the load of emotions.

Pain is the norm now, it almost feels good, as that’s the way the brain has programmed itself.

It’s a reaction to my fight flight response now.

There is almost an autopilot switch that activates each time there is any slight chance of happiness, almost telling my brain to keep producing the stress hormones.

Regret, hurt, sorrow, uselessness, all those feelings are now me.

Tears have made the tastebuds very salty, when I look at the mirror I almost have forgotten what I once looked like. There are no distinct features left that describe me as what I used to once be.

My body is like a planet almost awaiting a lunar eclipse to make me realise I exist.

Once upon a time when I heard the ocean waves, it felt soothing but now, it scares me and my heart skips beats, drowning me deeper in my dark thoughts.

There is no category in which I can define my issue, or search a medical dictionary in hope of feeling normal within the community.

Nothing can be undone, it seems like the clock is ticking fast and it keeps piling up negative feelings.

A.P.

Scars

Scars’

Not only a mark, a reminder, a memory, the ultimate playback to what was once the moment you just wanted it to be over…

Scars don’t traumatise me anymore,

They make me strong .

Scars make me realise why”

Scars make me proud that I lived the moment.

The moment that life could have either taken a U turn, or the moment life could have hit the ultimate decision point .

Scars are your achievements, they are your character, they are your inner realisation to reality of that’ one moment

A.P.

The Dark Knight’

The Dark Knight’

Introduction

Is the story of a Princess who once made a mistake; the one that cost her ,her Smile

The Dark Knight

Shining armour,

Sword sharper than the mighty Pen,

Bright, almost as the strongest rays of the sun reflecting off silver,

The Dark Knight stole my Smile.

Colours, once so warm, lit up my path,

yellow, red and blue’,

The Battle fields were lit up,

Roaring with grief, once mentioned in the Mahabharata,

As old as Sanskrit (Language or ancient India),

Thats how vague the memory is to me now.

The Dark Knight Stole my Smile.

Vultures now guard my kingdom,

Where I now reside, high up above,

So high, almost away from humanity;

Rustling old leaves, now far off photosynthesis are the only sound that replaces the sound of my hearts beat,

Creeky doors, that were once galvanised, replace the dream catchers bells,

And the Hooting Owls, the sound of the golden Harp.

The Dark Knight stole my Smile.

The shackles are really heavy, giving away the smell of rusting iron.

They almost feel like my glass Bangles I once wore.

No features on my face are the same (not that I can see),

No features on my face Feel’ the same,

They once contained my personality.

I have no mirror, the only close reality to one are the tear drops I shed,

The Dark Knight stole my smile.

A.P.

MIRRORS

Mirrors

I am a mirror to my body’

I am a mirror to my Mind’

I am a mirror to my deranged thoughts’

I am a mirror to my locked up soul’

“Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the most miserable of us all?”

Mirrors were once an object that ancient Egyptians, Romans and Greeks were very fond of.

For instant a broken mirror till this day is said to bring 7 years of bad luck.

They say that the mirror symbolically Inceases what it reflects’ (Feng shui)

Cracks in mirrors can fragment your life’ how does one reverse a fragmented self’

Mirrors are known to increase vital Chi (energy) of a space itself, than what about me?

“Mirror mirror on they wall, who is the most Displaced of us all?”

The human mind will see only’ what it wants to see, in the most truthful object possibly ever known of; The Mirror’

Unfortunately the human mind cannot sight beyond appearance, skin, hair, or even a fake smile set in a locked mirror image called a photograph.

False inner self’

False Smile that tries to hold the day’

False attitude I we wear’

The mirror shows us all;

what is it that you would to sight ?

Mirror mirror on the wall who is the sweet soul locked inside of me?’

Mirror replies at last, look deep within and you will see what your searching for, it is not lost yet, wake up and look into the beauty that you still portray. Look at the real meaning behind that fake smile, Look behind the first layer of your skin and shall find what you seek my child ’  –  Ora’

I look so hard and so dedicated yet I still cannot find what I’m trying to view.

I keep looking for hours and hours till the day ends and all I manage to find after a struggle is; A miserable me.

Mirror Mirror on the wall’……..

A.P.

 

 

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