tan-mehar

[tan-mehar]

"The older I get the more that I see

My parents aren't heroes, they're just like me

And loving is hard, it don't always work

You just try your best not to get hurt

I used to be mad but now I know

Sometimes it's better to let someone go

It just hadn't hit me yet

The older I get"

- Older; Sasha Sloan

[tan-mehar]

Heart Awaits

Bound with a heart full of sorrow,

that lone figure under the haitang tree.

Half a life spend for morrow,

earning to looked at, in the crazed spree.

once was a child of innocence,

beamed at all with a desire for care.

Life turned those an eye of insolence

cold and unrelenting, none kept bare.

Thought would live for none

Yet that day under this haitang tree,

pulled from a reverie by that tone

those stare unwavering, a smile so free

Days stranded away, came along the spring

muddled with a feel all too unfamiliar.

A glimpse, gleaming orbs and a heart left unstring,

soured, when another came to relish its allure

'A fond and a fate, all meant to be forbidden',

warned those bottle of painstaking fervour.

Dared not to yearn for what was not given,

clung to the hope to be worthy, a preceptor

Bloom gone to await the mercies of wither

eyes held up high in pray for else's benevolence.

Sealed, mindful of every breath that fare,

away, every word a reverence.

Let the live pass, longing a fortune to revive,

a live where fate shall cross path anew.

Naught a note that beat by this hymn shall grieve,

for love is a strive too sore, true-blue.

This little poem is gleaned from one of the recent web novels I read,  “The Husky and His White Cat Shizun”  (二哈和他的白猫师尊, Èr Hā Hé Tā De Bái Māo Shī Zūn). To those who are new to the chaotic and unrelentingly growing world of web novels, don’t be in a haste to deduce your opinion from the novel’s name alone. Because I did so at first and then shamefully regretted later. 

 2H is a very beautiful and satisfying read. ML(Shizun or Chu Wanning) made me shed boundless tears every now and then. At times, I could relate to his aloof nature and lonely heart that wept for a flare of love. He, after leaving his master’s aid and shield, stepped into the world where the weak died to thrive and the strong remained unwilling to care. Was a child full of smiles and innocence. But life gradually wore him down. He woke for the weak and forgot to sleep. Along the way, his indifference to the dominant made him insolent to the majority. His time and heart was set for those in need, not for those who tried to will him and heed. 

Everyone thought he is a scary, antisocial, ‘should not to be meddled with’ master. What all bestowed him was respect, respect out of fear and his great beknown proficiency. All but love was there. He thought he would never have a chance to bemoan the savour of love, whatever kind it maybe. 

This poem depicts the escripts from the novel, which drew the picture of Chu Wanning with a heart that fell for his discipline MoRan. In the poem, the Chu Wanning I pictured out is standing under the blooming haitang tree and relinquishing his unrequited love(so he thought. I’m not gonna spoil the novel for you.) 

What follows are the verses describing his first meeting with MoRan and him realizing he has got feelings for those gleaming eyes and petulant heart. Their first meeting was under this very same haitang tree. Lost in thought, he didn’t realize the hand that was pulling his sleeves and came to stare at a pair of very innocent and bright pairs of orbs that beheld a childish gleam to it. In the later years, he falls for those same peevish eyes. Even a glimpse of his silhouette made his heart lurch. Later, he comes to know about MoRan’s feelings for one of his other disciplines and his heart sours with jealousy, a feeling very unknown to him. He mourned for a love that could never even sprout out a little to breath the fresh air in dew. He knows what he feels is forbidden and chides his heart for the same. In the end, he can only hope for a rebirth, where he could cross paths with MoRan again and have a fate in which their love could bloom. 

I felt for Wanning. My heart hurt for him. That’s why this poem.

#compassion #2H #Moran #chu wanning #husky and his white cat shizun #i feel for him #awaits #heartache

[tan-mehar]

the love of lives is a raging fire whereas the lives of love is nothing but a shimmering flame

#me and my stupid analyzations #do #learn #repent #repeat

[tan-mehar]

For as long as I live, and as long as I love, I will never not think about you

never not; Lauv

#don't know that feeling #is there a love that lasts forever #unrequited love

[tan-mehar]

Defiant by nature, beyond redemption

#me and my stupid realizations. #should be carved on my grave

[tan-mehar]

REDEMPTION

Was all the apprehension perhaps.

Perhaps the self-respect and self-worth.

Maybe the scarce in lit path, or,

just the unjust scare of rejection.

Was told to speak.

Shed blood and carved it in heart

yet only the stench remained,

strive forgotten.

Hollered under the sun, wishpered to the moon,

none left unaware, neither the heavens.

Yet left nonchalant, numb to the heart

Either known or Unforgivebly forgotten.

Plugged the hollow with shame

seconds minutes and bygone hours

It kills to wait than live

Still shame, Yet wait

Feigning no care, stumbling, never losing foot.

Being laughed at, yet laughed along.

Wondering where the rest left when wailed alone.

Not knowingly, lost all front, not aware, was being laughed at.

In the hurt, still fall.

fall deep in abyss, head frantic, heart delirium.

gone the rememberance of self-worth,

endure it all and still fall.

Sown for inept, reaped hurt

wailed for rain, blessed with dearth

laid to step on, stepped on, deserted.

Gave a good laugh, laughed along.

Too many conjectures, all bliss.

The drops ripples, the rythem follows.

The night waits, never meets the day.

None along, always one after another.

Many might know and hail

But It doesn't tickle anymore, It pricks.

Crimson drips, not a flush.

Cry, neither a glaze.

The cries would cease and heart shall stale

Hurt would numb and the wound shall heal

then mellow of new love, now hollow of new pain

Hope for the good, wait to hold the self.

New day comes, comes new love

New love comes, comes new pain

Promises, love will bloom and pain will vane

Spring shall follow the summer, shall stay

Be the love, be the spring and be the worth

[tan-mehar]

So, I'm writing!

More like venting it out..

Oh no wonders, it's just cluster of words

Patching up these stabs

Else they would drain

And I would die.

So I'm writing

Why? You may ask.

Just had enough of this,

That's all.

'What?' Some may ask.

'You barely saw around' ,

Others would say.

Had enough?! Mockings

You lived?! Grimaces

' The world have been

through hell and back

Yet you say you lived!

'Had enough?' '

A vast would shame.

Let me ask you,

what is hell?

Is it a place

Or a phase?

Is it just pain

Or some more?

Why don't they gain

Pain is pain

Lesser pain?

Lesser hell?

Oh let me laugh!

You don't see the rift. .

You don't see the void.

You don't see me,

Rippling nothingness.

'Ah it's just a phase'?!

No! It's my hell.

Let the stick turn

And wait for your turn

You will see through me

You will scream, ah same.

you will sob and crawl.

Never acknowledge?

Better! Better hell.

Atleast I'm stumbling up

Atleast I'm catching up

Don't worry.

I won't mock

I won't.

As far as I know,

You are your personal hell

Then, why would I?

I have had my share.

So spare, if not care.

So I'm writing

Why? Still many may ask

But oh look!

A few learned.

Now that's some progress,

Isn't it!

#mini rant #feels good feels fresh #let me diss