Fairy Tales (series)

The muse of this poem is the powerful picture at the end. Once again I would like to give credits to the anonymous artist.

This poem tries to bring out the turmoil of a person suffering with depression. If you know anyone who is depressed, please lend them support. They need your love and patience...

DIARY OF A BROKEN BIRD

I still don't know what to remember
What I have lost or what I had found
And here you are, a confusion
At best, I'd say, 'a sweet distraction'
I don't know what I am anymore
Am I still the broken, chained -bird "free"?
I don't know , what could I do
with or without hurting you.
Some times I see myself
Adding new leaves to my diary
I had torn away blank pages all
But then I know I am broken beyond belief
I guess I will just pick this broken bird I found
And see him heal
My every new moment is just that - a moment
There is no smile that hides no sorrow
One day when I am strong enough
I will put an end to this theatre of my life
And look just as blankly at the winter sun
Or if I am stronger, I will walk with the winds
And find my place amongst the flowers
I will then look at the happy birds naive
And bless them with all my power
-Mx

Disclaimer: I do not own the image used.

Fairy Tales (series)

This is a poem on the plight of those sweet, lost, direction less depressed souls, that require help and encouragement.
If you know some such person, please try and be patient and kind. They could be living with 'all hope lost' but they aren't hopeless cases. They are people like you and me.

OUT OF 'URN'

In darkness dwelled
"It's your prison own"
she denied "not mine.
lest I could have flown.

"Pitch black and painful
Mindless insane
Save me somebody!"
She thought no one came.

"You don't understand"
She thought no one could
And forever in dark,
"live" she would.

In darkness, dwelled
until one fine day
she moved over the lid
she had found her grace!

Lit up and lively
All alive all anew
She had left her urn
And out she flew!

-Mx

YOU COUNT

Whenever you feel you are alone, in person or in your quest, just remember this:

YOU ARE ONLY AS POWERFUL AS YOU WANT TO BE!

The brightest of flames
leave the deepest of darkness
and yet
the weakest of flames
kill the mightiest of the dark

-Mx

LOST

Gloom invading :P (please don't get all gloomy after reading this)

This one is a rather pessimistic poem I reconsidered posting many times. Somehow I personally like the imagery.

Also, should you choose to read between the lines, it does emphasise in a subtle way that *our fears our only the product of our mind*. This is one possible good message that this poem spreads. (Note how the 'frightening frigates' are actually 'clouds') ("power" of the brain?)

*Optimism is when something always shines within you like the sun that always shines no matter how many clouds invade the sky.*

Pessimism is when you surrender to feeble clouds, overwhelmed.

They do say wars are won depending on both attack and defence. However the subtle yet significant battles of life are more about how strong your defences are and what are the odds of you (your mind) getting overwhelmed by and surrendering to matters that in reality are insignificant.
(This also sums up the concept of 'moh' or 'delusion')

*When you do realise these 'matters' are all but insignificant, you do not succumb to the pressure your mind creates and do not get LOST in the puzzles designed by it*

*our mind is our greatest asset and yet our biggest enemy*!!!

LOST

When I was a wonder that I am not no more
Sun shone regardless beneath greys cold and sore.
Those feeble greys are now such frigates frightening
Across oceans of former skies, with rain and lightening.
Ecstasy now a distant feeling too far away to try
No more I know how I even thought I'd someday fly.
Buried beneath I wonder what. Buried what? Buried why?
No more I know how I even thought I'd someday fly.
-Mx