A cold grey heart


There was once a fair skin lady

With a cold grey heart

In her cradle of misery and despair

Lay a soul wanting to be free from it all

A sinner lay in a vessel so holy

A deceiver who told the truth in silence

Pointed out in the wrong direction

It’s as if being strong is the only option she had

Caught in somewhere between war and peace

And giving up was not an option but rather a willing death

The ache of her soul consumes her existence

And willing to live or to die is neither a choice nor an option

Trapped outside her own history

Losing herself and keeping this world

Swept away by the winds of change and modernism

Unable to retrace her steps and lost

The whispers and confessions eat the thoughts she has

Centuries passed and she’s on her knees

Praying to a God as he mocks her credence

Existence like old wood with dry leaves

Ancestors whispering in her roots and haunting her

Locked out from her own being all she sees are shadows

All she heard are whispers and flailing echoes

Caught in the war that she has lost and won

A war which captured her dreams and crushed them for her to only re-dream

A war that made her adore her conqueror and despise herself

Sailing unanchored on troubled seas

Never allowing shore to set her soul free

Her joys never happy enough

Her sorrows never sad enough

Her dreams never big enough

Her existence never important enough

Who she is? Who she’s not? And who she want to be?

Lost and insecure sitting in the corner as life passes her by

Watching the clock tick away as her decay proceeds to be


About Bano

I’m trying to find a better introduction but since, I can’t? Hi! I’m an ordinary person and I write. I write not because there lies aspiration to be a writer someday but because, it keeps me sane. I love the color silver, black and grey. I also realize that they fall under the same color tone. Whatever, I write is a result of my 3 a.m blues or insomniac depressive tendencies. I can’t write during the day. I’m addicted to caffeine and well, anything and everything (if I like it). Also, I suck at conversations. I bite my nails. Most of the time I’m clueless about the world around me. I love politics and youth activism. People tell me that art and politics don’t belong in the same mind, but I’m passionate about both. One day I might be drawing on a canvas or writing a story and the very next day I will be heading off to attend a summit on the role of youth at the United Nations. I have multiple people trapped in the same body. Each side does try to express itself, in minimal ways if not fully. I’m currently going through a rough patch in life. I guess, I’m adjusting to the world through multiple perceptions. I absolutely love talking to myself because an expert opinion is always required. Most of the time, I just play scenarios in my mind that would never happen. I’m very contradictory in my thought process and actions but it is okay, people get to be what they want to be as long as no other soul is hurt. Peace out!

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