The nineteenth attempt

Tick, tock;
tick, tock;
clock's arm slowly walks towards twelve,
towards the mysterious, blank door.
Knock, knock;
time gently opened the lock,
cleared the block,
leads, to the nineteenth walk.

Stepping into a new path,
paved with unexplored possibilities and, laughs?
Eyes to the front,
but the front itself, is blurred;
layers and layers of mist,
veiled the upcoming road.

As if,
a shy braid's hiding,
before unveiling.
Stuffy, humid air moves along wind's breath;
hides, distant floral senses,
attempting for a further step,
a step closer to its dangerous intoxication.
A rush of wind runs,
over bare raw skin;
shiverings and frightenings follow,
into heart.

races fast every second.
Eighteen attempts tried,
zillion of steps have been taken,
on this every-changing road;
reaching out for zillion of unknowns.
This,the nineteenth attempt,
road confuses vision as ever;
puts no end on the exploration,
but runs, hastily for all potential opportunities.
Tick, tock,
tick, tock;
another new door is now opened.



Always running, in almost everywhere;
sometimes noticeable, sometimes hiding,
nobody knows,
where will chances appear, next.

The visit comes,
during the yawn, during the mourn;
never when it's expected for,
too long.
Before the great manifesto,
be it a heavenly message
or dead note;
remains a myth.

one takes it.
Photobucket Photobucket
Taking it,
requires, more than a nod;
asks, for more than a promise;
it, looks for courage.

Courage, that shields one
from the disappointing future.
Ends the long anticipation, in boldness;
run after it,
chase it,
stop it,
taste it,
champion it;
before it vanishes.
this is the moment.



Sara from One Long Road has tagged me for the following, thanks dear :)


8 Things I'm Looking Forward To:
1. My upcoming birthday
2. exam result slip released in 30th JUN
3. A tea gathering with my dear friends on Friday
4. To do a bit of shopping tomorrow
5. Visiting the nature again
6. an improvement from the kid I have been tutoring
7. learn how to make breads
8. See him again

8 Things I did yesterday
1. went to church
2. slept for 3 hrs in the afternoon
3. watched "Lake House"
4. watched a hilarious local game show
5. had fun with friends in my place
6. read some reference materials about the university i want to enter into
7. did a beauty route
8. had a nice brunch

8 Things I Wish I could do
1. Hiking
2. Dancing
3. Drawing (really bad in this field)
4. change other's mind
5. stop overthinking
6. less talking
7. do magic and bring joy to those who are suffering
8. shape a better future of this world
8 Shows I Watch
1. Gossip girl
2. So you think you can dance
3. Ugly betty
4. Dirty Sexy Money
5. Sex and the City
6. Project Runway
7. club sparkle (local show)
8. beautiful cooking (local show)
thank you all for reading this :)

agnes xx


Love brush

A brush, a touch,
applying colours,
swirling memories in
the paint.

From the brightest glow of white,
to the darkest shadow of black,
all in all.
Dots of shades and tones,
slightly sign the past,
shape a vivid, dead frame
in all corners.
The charm lies within, never missed,
amazed others with applause;
the soul lives within, never noticed,
locked others with blockade.

A frame of picture window,
the beautified emptiness.
An unfamiliar touch moves across,
enlighting shades,
calling lights back
to the paint.

Starting from the first blush of winter rose,
till the declining lines of summer sunglow.
Bleaching beauty, ends dormancy,
fading out old allure,
drawing in new flushes,
embraces a strange new life.
Charms flourishing outside,
shines with sunglow;
living soul inside,
dances along with passion flow.
A love brush,
fills colours into life, in completion.


Life, in the living

Scribbles on paper,
dozens of broken pencils,
empty glasses of vitamin supplements,
all watching, in commiseration.
Calendar flips, slips hastily,
like it never does.

Moving from January,
stops in April;
time walks towards, no delay,
lays tensity along its path.
Tension stirs in mind,
mind in conflicts,chaotic,
mixed into thoughts,
till blurs of words
into nothing.

Nothing, but urges.
Colours is dingy,
patched with old, washed
grays and blues.

Melody sings flat,
paved with dry, deadly
mourns and aches.
Sun glares and fades,
seeds grows and fruits;
living the day,
walking the lines;
side passing life.
Life, in the living.

P.S my exams are finally over :)
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