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through lonely nights
when world howls at the sky
stars walk you home
even if some moon
betrays your luck

faith is a straight line;
lantern piercing a labyrinth
on days the compass is cloudy.
Nothing's too hard or impossible
Baby steps, no need to stress
When to you the path is visible
You just need to do your best

The fear you harbor in your heart
Is not because of your limit
But it's because of someone else's goals -
You're afraid that you won't reach it.

Your template is your latest high score
No them, just you versus you on the floor
If you fall you'll get up, that's the spirit
All you need now is to just  DO IT!
We sometimes see life as a test but fail to realize that we can't copy anyone else's answers, simply because we have different questions.
We drive through the dark
to her home,
radio lulling small back seat bodies,
so late that our DJs have hushed
and only the rustling burr
of an AM station remains,
in and out like consciousness
with songs of eternal love,
bread of heaven
ar hyd y nos
Any straight line
Is pointless.
Oh COVID,
You made me mask my shyness
And forced me to raise my voice
Now every so often I have a sore throat

This makes me feel like you have made
a home out in my body

It’s seems that that’s effect you have on people
You are so contagious, that even those
who do not have you, think
That they may have you as an unwanted guest
Wrecking havoc in their lungs,

Throat

*cough
One day she just stopped talking,
so I stopped too
I don't know if that's what she wanted,
It’s just her words became few
I thought I’d give her some flowers
Maybe somehow I’d get through
The flowers weren’t as pretty as her
But she stopped seeing too
Now I just visit and I hold her
At least she still feels the same
She’s still as beautiful as she always been
Though she barely knows my name
to my mum and dad
I need another break from my life,
But this time return I want not to.
I want to play the leisurely fife,
But are dead people even happy?
I hear that they experienced a strife,
Their hearts stopped beating,
And their breathing ceased too.
My HP Poem #1914
©Atul Kaushal
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