Built: Not to be destroyed

i am a meek soul

whose life lives in itself

warm walls but the insides fell cold and empty

selfish desires for love and devotion

what i have isn't enough

what i've been given to give to another

i've kept it inside waiting for a single soul

the only one who doesn't want it

the only one who can't

i am a meek soul

this choice i cannot make

i'd rather give what i have to all

not to one but to many

send to many, in tiny bits like my heart

broken shattered but which is still worthy

for what i have built within me

so strong over the years

cannot be given away to the heavens or the hells

not so easily as a catch of the breath or a slit of the vein

muddled sense of belonging to none yet to everyone

i will share!

I usually don't read a lot. And 'proactively' (a word used 'Oh! So often!!!') I don't look through the papers or surf the net!!

(Hot damn! I don't even glance through the paper-back of a book)

But, reading/learning is everything in this age.

I signed into Twitter for all the wrong reasons. Selfish mostly. However, being on twitter and 'leaking' your thoughts isn't the point.

I know I do not share any news/info that would benefit anyone else (as of now :) ). Instead, what I do is try and follow individuals who could give me a better insight. There's like a million things I would need to read and that I COULD read online. But the ones you get on twitter are screened by someone already. Thanks people :)

So. Kudos to one and all. Will try posting something of relevance soon.

Personal opinion: Follow @jessie_paul and @andybeal. \m/

Best regards,

-Purvika

phew!!!

the need for voices has stopped

mind altering methods gave way

silly reasoning's have flopped

enroute to eternal bliss

rummaging

I sit here and I think

What is it that moves my soul

Is it the music in my heart

Lines connecting through all the dots

The dark night sky with twinkles of hope

The lady that wanders through my thoughts

The care of a woman’s bosom

Or the silvers in the morning bright

Wind in my arms like flying

The breeze and clear green sight

It’s the tiny things that mean the most

Everything I mentioned I would raise a toast

Singing in my heart I heard myself

Being down-the-trodden that did help

‘i' is now an entity, one who is whole

Who always existed but never was told

To be in love with ‘i' was hard to do

But now it isn’t late nor too soon

Reflections

I do not choose to be this way,

It is who ‘i’ is..

I do not choose to twist the stairs,

Of which a part he is…

I do not wish to breathe the air,

If it means a lack to him..

I do not need no light to stare,

If his world goes dim…

I would rather sink below his feet,

Than let him see my face..

For all he needs is love i know,

Not from me but from my grace…