top of page

Crushed Soul

Nov 25, 2022
1 min read

Updated: Aug 30, 2025

By Sawani Sameer Karpe


When I see snow, I feel a sudden glow. In the thrush cross pavement, it feels like a melody. A thousand reasons, I should listen to my heart. And a million more to glow from the start. When the sun shines great, the snow just melts. In the echo fond valley, you can hear footsteps. Of those sneaky wild pirates, wanting to sail off again. Isn’t life like that, I tell myself. My hopeless crushed soul. What a disappointment! It showers like complicit burden. In the backyard playground, the soil turns into watery clay. When the mighty siren of thunder is heard, our heart slightly misses some beats. A thousand or later millions of people are discovered in their offices, stuck.


But the sun shines great again, with some hope adhere. In the wonderland parks the roads get arid and the rides are buried in screaming childish voices. Of those annoyingly cute innocents, who’ve never seen the dark world. Isn’t life like that, I tell myself. My conscious crushed soul. Life is a twisted complicated maze, solving it is like ending it. Trying to linearize it is like, tearing it midway. Trying to simple it up is like, unknowingly calling upon the end. I tell myself. My thoughtless crushed soul. Hope is a friend, despair is an enemy. Optimism is the best way, pessimism is its conjugative way. Disappointing is just the same as praising, both an important part of life. Loving yourself and valuing yourself are a must to help your crushed soul mend right! ~~~~


By Sawani Sameer Karpe






Recent Posts

See All
Dumb or In Love

By Kavya Mehulkumar Mehta are poets dumb — or just in love? to the world, they may seem dumb, but for them, love is inevitable. poems are reminders of love that can’t be forgotten, shan’t be forgotten

 
 
 
A Future So Azure

By Inayah Fathima Faeez Tomorrow looms unsure, muffled by the deep Thumbs twiddling, barriers never-ending, failure and nothing to reap At the shore lie the choices, imposing, leading to journeys impo

 
 
 
Letting Go In Layers

By Inayah Fathima Faeez Some part of us is cold and shrivelled, In a body of seemingly endless depth. Some part of us is heavy and dishevelled, Misery filling an unending breadth. Some part of us is

 
 
 

Comments

Rated 0 out of 5 stars.
No ratings yet

Add a rating
bottom of page