The Paradox of Music

I find it hard to believe how many people can make music. I tend to see it as too magical to belong to everyone. It’s understood that everyone sees it differently. But isn’t it too personal? It’s a paradox. Its universal and personal at the same time.

Repetition

I can’t write about freedom to love and express love;
Because I’ve written about it already.
I can’t write about womanhood;
I’ve said too much about that.
I can’t write even about my doubts about my sanity;
Any reader would’ve gathered that by now.

Even original ideas I come up with have been thought of by someone who died centuries before my birth.

I find repetition quite irritating.

A Rebel Signs Off

I will succumb
Just like a rebel ‘convinced’
Was I fighting on the wrong side?
Now I give into a natural flow

I believed in a non existent
An imaginary construct
How hard it is to let go of beliefs;
Ideals…

completeness.

of all the people who had come to visit her, what scared her the most were his concerned eyes.
they left.
he stayed.
she closed her eyes and willed him to go.
too weak for a battle.
instead, she felt the radiation of warmth from his palms on her cheek.
contact.
all this time...just for this warmth.
this completeness.