Phoenix - Rising from the dead!!

I see your trace In the first drop of rain That hits my face In the petrichor that follows Like rainbow out of billows I embrace your traces Like the first shed in the Fall,  Like the subtle sartorial hues sprawl I feel your traces In the first blossom of spring, Like the fresh snow’s picturesque fling I saw your traces  in hues of reds and pinks,  In passion of conventions and kinks,  in times of ups and downs  In shades of greys and browns In holds of sorrow and delight In my dreams, blurry and bright                    -words by Kirti Mahajan                        Thoughts of  Aupal

He stood beside a canvas Some strokes some scribbles, a neutral canvas,   Still bright n white He peeked some more, few leaves and petals it bore. From a corner he saw the dark progressed It emerged to bitter  Like something left unaddressed  It grew n grew  N before i knew  it was deeper and darker, Eating up canvas’s soul altogether  All that stayed,  the withered leaves and petals And few thorns still not apart all, that died in the dark He closed his eyes,  And stayed all stiff  hoping it may stop  Revisiting the perspective of ‘what if’ But everytime I saw  From the bright white,  It turned to a dead night  a corner of canvas  and the boy besides He didn’t know, he’s part of the prose The canvas, the boy and a withered rose Cares, fears and wears they carry Depicting the hues of a unique love story -Kirti Mahajan

Where nights shine with the crescent moon With silver lined clouds, the mornings bloom Tall pines shed blessings and boon Dropping valleys and mountains glorier A known abode of the happy warrior Little was known and little was shared  All we knew they were never scared In the battles of truths and lies, The happy warrior barred escapes and ties A soul of peace with armour and shields the happy warrior is their own storier A knight of love and guardian of stakes The happy warrior’s happiness is fake Their love is to the moon and back They let you love with all your twists and attack. Their poise is their wealth, their courage is their stealth, They taught endless lessons, How the fears are to be dealt. Life’s hardest of battles they fought  Without ever regretting what all eminent they lost At times of worldly cries, Tearing to pieces, but holding the smiles The cause of divine, and all that’s merrier,  Such is the love of the happy warrior The happy warrior is a god sent blessing, a h