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-

Fathers Day… How much I miss you

Two decades ago, I lost the most beautiful relationship I once had, the void that no one will ever fill.

How much I miss you dad

Now looking back, oh how much I miss you so.

On a day like this; memory lane takes me back to when dad used to hold my tiny fingers as he guided me in the right direction,

To keep me fearless of the world,

Keeping me tucked under his angelic wings.

How much I miss you dad

My moments with his so sweet, and memorable,

Oh how I wish you were here right now to show me the right path in the maze I live in.

Those moments when he wiped my tears,

And give me cuddles,

Nothing ever felt wrong,

The teachings were always so humble,

To never give up on myself, and fight my way through.

How much I miss you dad

Those memories are not faint, yet so fresh, so surreal.

Fathers day has always been a reminder of the innocence of my past.

Never take your loved ones for granted, as tomorrow may never be… Oh dad how much I miss you so.

I will live the days with the memories I have in my heart and forever hold you close to my heart

I love you and will till my last breathe.

Happy Fathers Day.

-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 Locked up soul

 

This little piece is dedicated to myself, and the intro of “The Locked up soul”, which will be one of my dominant topics, a little story about myself, possibly the other side of me that I once lost.

 

Where is her soul?

Why has she always cried out to search where she is ? I think I can  hear her.

 

she is lost’

amongst herself’

amongst the amidst of life’

she lost her soul a long time ago’

Very far away from here’

 

Once upon a time there was a little girl,

she loved to smile and her giggles would light up the room.

She was pure and innocent to the world,

The world that along her journey stole her smile’

her little chuckle would now echo inside my mind

The warmth of her presence is just an eerie feeling now,

and her memory is what lives on each day…

till the day she will find her soul

Till she relives again.

 

 

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