Or may be hear nothing?
Oh no no! They can be mimicked.
Possibly you feel nothing!
I feel nothing?
But my heart still beats.
Oh no no!
It's just another thumping sound.
It really means nothing!
Why does it have to mean nothing?
It might just be something
For I do not hear, I feel my heart beating.
I feel the rush of happiness
And the blush of Love
My eyes maybe illegible
And tears invisible
But my soul...
It cries the emotions thereof.
It might not be what it seems.
For your actions for perfection
belong to different themes.
For you speak of bliss and light
And the world relates to tales of dreary sight.
Even "belong" seems to not belong
For you are different, so different
Like the lyrics of an alien-made song.
That came to me as a blessing
But was taken as a curse
By the world that tried to coerce
My melody to their different verse
I see the beauty of the morning
And feel the depth of the charming night
My words smell the dew's purity
And innocence of the flowers
That dance with delight
There maybe a sense of fear
But never of loss
For the night maybe dark
But it leads to a morning of hopeful gloss
Be as different as it may seem to the world
But my words of Love
Have been my dreamy abode
On and on, I will move on that road.
For the catharsis my thoughts seek
They have, upon me, bestowed.
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A little something:
The thoughts for this piece have been there with me since a few years now. When I came across the prompt "Catharsis", I knew the time has come.
Catharsis, the term, has several interpretations depending upon the context. The popular interpretation, as I have seen, is to express deep-seated emotions through some medium, mostly through arts.
In this piece, I have used a conversational style of representation. The context used here is primarily based on 2 different mediums,viz. literature and theater.
The aim is to let go of the things that have been pulling you back or are too burdensome for you. The first step is acceptance of the burden that you carry. In the process of letting go, you end up losing things, and that loss is the harbinger of new beginnings. The outcome also becomes the catalyst of the process And I find this beautiful, poetic.
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