⚘ 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘷𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘦𝘴 ↬ 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘩 𝘐𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘴

𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

now that I have turned eighteen,
the greater responsibilities have piled up on me,
making me heftily scrooch down onto my knees.

but this is not something unexpected though,
as I have covered a miles distance by now,
clearly aware of what I was advancing to know.

those eighteen novembers have swiftly went by,
I still wonder and ask myself this numerous times,
maybe like them frosty winters ember,
deteriorating up into the warm blue sky.

all the far lifted cries,
all the long awaited good byes,
I have been through it all,
despite sulking in all the pain inside.

I know with the growth it is easier to climb,
though never had it easy all this time.
the one who had always reached for the top,
definitely knows how it feels like,
to withstand the whirlpool of agony, and plop.

the stars were never mine,
when I needed them the most to shine,
so I lit myself on fire,
and watched the stars admire.

those war zones and battlefields,
they were in me,
ruthlessly piercing through my shields,
but did I not fight back,
even when I crumbled and bled.

those eighteen falls,
and those eighteen springs,
brought out the best version of me,
turning moments into unforgettable memories.

but what is there more to ask from God?
for an affectionate circle I am already blessed with,
or could it be alot of patience and faith,
followed by the virtues of that it maketh.

looking at myself from then,
when I had nothing particular to be proud of,
a child holding millions of dreams,
as her chestnut irises glistening from it, screams.

keep in mind that none could ever break me,
because of these concrete pillars,
which always prove their strength, you see,
hope, faith, resilience and courage,
are what they will always be.

as I recall my past,
when my bloomfields were barren,
and my waters were scarce,
drought, storm and famine;
a casted curse spell which would probably last.

the eldest tree of the family tree,
a title I grew up with since my birth,
and though, I never wished for it,
I reckon, God bestowed upon me with something,
I don't call it as a blessing in disguise for nothing.

I never pictured myself losing my guard,
but not until when,
it knocked me down a bit too hard,
felt like my whole world collided and collapsed,
like a house in a spinning tornado cracks.

failures are a part of life they say,
of those who are made of sandstone and clay,
those scars they only heal,
when you know where hides the frailty,
to ward off the pain and conceal.

some regrets that devour me day to day,
the things I wanted to speak of but couldn't say,
some unfulfilled promises I want to make fulfil,
the moments of resentment that caved me in.

people pushed me away,
making me look like an outcast,
and I sure did take it on my heart,
not that I wanted,
but, was manipulated to accept myself as afterall.

the times I was made to believe the odd one,
when all I seek for was love and contentment,
some called me by bitter names,
some made it even worse by making false claims.

but were they not aware of my vengeance?
when I was eager to show them the fire,
in which I happen to mend and breathe in,
and that they chose to fight someone,
who found muse in burning herself for kith & kin.

the one you usually claim to have known,
is the only one I've actually shown;
the moon sure does lit up the night,
but know to it, there have always been a dark side.

not that they've ever believed her but,
same person who hid amongst the corners of room,
has now become the centre of attention;
dusting off all the dirt they threw at her,
with a vigorous fume.

I could've chosen the wicked,
could've let my dark dimensions take over,
but guess, I am built to ignite,
many blown out candles which crave the light.

it's not like it never hurts,
them sapped smiles helped mask the deepest cuts,
vulnerability isn't something I'm fond of showing,
as adversities have always taught me to keep going.

those eighteen novembers were like fine dots,
and I connected them like a constellation in series,
they say everything happens for a reason,
and things eventually change with the season.

hate it when they don't seem to acknowledge,
things I've achieved in a little time span,
only God knows the hard work I've put on myself,
just to reach where I now stand.

funny when I am held hostage,
by my very own fears and nightmares;
when I need someone to get me out of my head,
but it is that voice they never get to hear.

the kaleidoscope of change,
I perceived in a lifetime,
painted my blank canvas of soul,
with the pristine amalgate of black & gold.

suffering is my safe haven,
a place where I love to wander,
many instances it would leave me shaken,
although I am still called to be its great fonder.

teardrops spilling on mucky floors,
thoughts overflowing like a downpour,
in all of this I learned an art,
of knowing what to keep, and what to discard.

today I am sure of one thing,
my vision is clear, and so are my dreams;
people who used to snitch on me,
now they're on my doorstep asking for forgiveness.

don't whimper when I put you to shame,
for that you witness now, I am untamed,
they've never called out for danger,
without taking my name.

the woman I've become,
have all the people around me stunned,
I swear to never go back on my words,
as this eighteen year old continues to conquer.

-s.d.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

mid november
till (08/12/2020)