How safe is this heart I often wonder, while standing by the window I look at the thunder, suddenly fear crawls in, and the bird returns to save its home, this heart loves like there is no fear, only hope but one day a storm came and took away the faith that wasn’t built in second, so many days of faith breaks in one second, how sad it must be for the heart to believe in love again, how sad it must be the for the heart to believe that storm stays for a while rest is always the sky.
To protect is like giving someone room in the heart but remembering that the heart beats for me, to protect is like opening a door but remembering to keep the keys, to protect is like treating them like the moon but remembering that the sky belongs to me.
In a world where faith collapses, hope comes as a hand in need, in a world where sometimes love hurts, love is the only that heals, In a world where doors are closed on the face, windows become the gateway to spring, In a world where storm scares, sky, the strength saved me.
Healing is that beautiful poem that haunts a little in the first stanza, then gives turmoil in the second one, and then feels a little calm in the third, and in the last is like a flower blooming on the barren land.
One day, instead of waiting at the door, I came back home, one day instead of counting my scars, I counted stars, one day instead of looking for someone known, I looked at the moon, one day instead of being scared of the storm, I walked over my fears alone, one day instead of staying broken, I chose to heal, one day instead of waiting for spring, I sat by the tree and picked up the fallen leaves, and one day I saved myself from every storm that scared me not by closing my ears and eyes but by looking at the stillness of the sky.
So when someone walks through every season on their own, even in autumn and also when they are alone, then there is no storm they fear, there is no sadness they feel sorry for, there is no spring they dodge, there is no dream they feel unworthy of, there is no summer they get tired of, there is no winter they wish to never come across.
- – diksha suman | Varanasi 🔱 🇮🇳
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