Intrepid adventure

And that is what love is.
An intrepid adventure,
an audacious exploration,
into the deepest realms of heart.
A fearless, brazen stroke of paintbrush,
smearing the life forever,
with hues of bliss.
A masterpiece to behold.
Independent.
Original.
No, not the destination.
But ‘tis a journey.
A daring, gutsy journey of souls.

Linking with Sammi Cox Weekend Writing Prompt 

Shades of life

Eerily empty,
places all around, forsaken.
No scampering feet,
no jostling crowds,
no haggling customers,
no springtime frolicking.
Nothing.
The fountain sings alone,
old coins rusting at its base.
No hushed secrets,
no whispered confessions,
no more a witness
to furtive kisses.
Everywhere, all around,
a ghostly silence,
thick grey shroud,
beneath which,
the questions lurk,
the whats, whos, wheres,
their answers eluding,
confounding.
Deep inside the caves,
there is science and reason,
the protections, the preventions.
Out in the garden,
the flowers are blooming,
red and yellow and white
and the birds are chirping
and cat, basking in sunshine.

Linking with Friday Fictioneers

The picture prompt for this week is

PHOTO PROMPT © Ceayr

Fledglings of Falcon

The wailing walls of Sirhind,
stand in sombre solitude.
The howling chilling winds,
the numbing weeping waters of Sarsa,
bemoan and grieve.
Eternally condemned
and permanently blotted,
these coffers
rocked Thy tender kids
to quietus.
The supple souls,
seasoned spirits,
and their ominous farewell,
Soil of Sirhind,
(fortunate enough
that such pious feet
walked on it
and regrettably unfortunate
to have become their deathbed) ,
witnessed
what we dare not dream.
Unwavering, unflinching,
unswerving and unyielding,
subtle yet strong,
the fledglings of falcon.
embraced their pallbearers
with smiles on their faces.
And this is their legacy.
They were bricked alive.
But they never died.
And never can they.

Welfare unto all 

Rab rakha 

Test of gold

Broken, they fear death,
not knowing
the power they hold within.
To smile, rather than grimace
in adversity,
that’s the sign of a brave soul.
After all, the beautiful flowers,
bloom in dirt.

Linking with Sammi Cox Weekend Writing Prompt #114