THE LONE ORCHID

“Tale of a Lone Orchid who finds Friends in the Season of Love”

.

It was the season of love,
In a garden full of flowers,
Surrounded by Roses and Tulips,
Carnations and Lillies,
Stood an Orchid all alone.
As the garden was raided by lovers galore,
To please their beloved,
In the name of love,
They plucked the Sunflowers and Peonies too.
But none of them entered the bog,
Amidst which the lone orchid grew,
Its bewitching beauty hidden to all.
And with its petals of delicate refinement,
It still stood tall,
With a rare yet radiant glow,
Gracious in the woodlands shade,
Proudly it stood alone.

.

Unknowing to all a girl had been struck,
By its solitary charm,
The next day she quietly tip toed into the bog,
Entranced by its beauty she touched its petals,
Not one to disturb its solitude though,

The Orchid she never did pluck,

Instead she planted a few more bearing the same unique charm,
In the shade of that mucky bog,
Just so it wouldn’t be alone,
At the onset of the next season of love.
.

.

All Rights Reserved. Vanya Rajwar (VRa).

The Soul’s Urge©|2019

.

P.S.: I know the flower in the photograph is not an Orchid but a Hibiscus. Orchids are my favourite flowers and this picture was the closest I could get to a picture with a flower and also the theme of the poem. Thankyou!

PRIMA DONNA

A Short Tale of a lost Starlet ‘Prima Donna’, revived on this festival of lights, (Diwali) .

.

The lights shone a little brighter this year,

As her heart and soul felt a lot lighter on this festival of lights,

As the lights shimmered so did her soul.

The happiness apparent;

She shone in all her rarity,

Like the Prima Donna she once was,

One who was forgotten in the worldly chaos..

.

All Rights Reserved. Vanya Rajwar.

The Soul’s Urge©|2019

EXISTENCE

Tale of a Strong Woman with a Dead Soul who finds her Existence Pointless

.

She wanted to be the girl in his poems,
The one he would never forget.
She wanted to be the girl in his sketches,
The one he would always need,
Just like the air he breathes.
She wanted to be the girl in his dreams,
The one he would fight for,
One he would forever be at the side of.

.
Instead she became the girl who wrote odes to her pain,
In trying to become his muse,
She lost her own self.
The girl who pretended to be happy even when sad,
Tried to be strong even when weak,
All this just for him;
Her hollow eyes had no expression,
When she realised she was so replaceable, so easily forgotten.

.
Even after all that, Lust driven men chased after her,
Trying to claw at the numb remains of a body, with a shattered soul,
Nobody seemed to care, she had emotions too.

.
Left Uncared & Unloved for, people sing praises of her strength,
The girl who became her own muse.
A girl who seems stone cold,
Shrouded in a constant mystery,
One who loved and fought with all her being,
something the ones in her life failed to reciprocate.
A wounded tigress they call her,
But she is just a girl with a dead soul,
One whose tears fail to flow,
One who feels she has no regrets, To the extent that,
She finds her mere Existence pointless.

.

.

All Rights Reserved. Vanya Rajwar.

The Soul’s Urge©|2019

GREY

A Tale of a Woman stuck in the Grey Zones

With the beginning of a New Year,

Her Soul that was Withered and Shattered,

Went through a major transformation,

It was the long awaited moments of Spiritual Awakening,

As her Earth Realities changed,

She embraced her true persona and flew unfettered.

.

She realised she was never an extreme,

Neither the Epitome of Good,

Nor a Paragon of Evil,

She was a Paradox,

Benign yet Impassive.

.

She was never a Friend to be called upon for Benefits,

But then she was also not the Commitment that one called a Relationship,

She was a Strings Attached,

Never given a Closure,

Used in accordance to Whims and Fancies,

An Obscure and Cavernous bond of a Situationship.

.

Somewhere down the lane of the year begone,

She lost her Passion for a Romance Eternal.

She wasn’t the one you’d want,

If you wanted an everlasting ardor,

She was one holding on to the last vestiges of humanity to feel Alive,

So all she can provide is Love Universal.

.

She wasn’t the Fury nor was she the Calm,

Despite the Pandemonium within her heart and mind,

She seemed at Peace with her Inner Self ,

This impressed upon the watching eye,

And she appeared to them as Divine and Ethereal.

.

However, at the end of it all,

The realization hit her long and hard,

The cognizance that she was neither the Black nor the White,

She was just somewhere betwixt,

A Perfect Meld of all the shades GREY;

She was Devoid of Sadness,

But No; There was no Happiness,

Just a Soulful Numbness.

.

.

All Rights Reserved. Vanya Rajwar.

The Soul’s Urge©| 2019

MASTERPIECE

A Tale of a Masterpiece that is Mystic and Arcane.  

There is a reason I call her a MASTERPIECE,

She is the Angel’s Melody and The Devil’s Knell,

The Creator’s Epiphany,

He was thoughtful of each part and crease. 

                   

Mystic and Veiled, she is one of a kind,

Broken a number of times,

She still spreads love with an aching heart,

To the flaws of the world she seems blind.

                 

Her love is a tide of mystical vibes,

Touching the soul and searing it through.

Lucky will be the man who owns her heart,

He will possess the glow her eternal passion provides.

               

Her detachment is equally vile,

When her soul is set ablaze,

Witness the intense fury in her burning eyes,

Her wrath will ravage you down.

                                   

She is the peace of nature, a provider of solace,

She is a heavenly hell, a demonic bait,

Numerous are the facades that she wears, 

She hides a persona, Mystifying and Arcane.

            

               

All Rights Reserved. Vanya Rajwar.

The Soul’s Urge©|2018