Valleys to Jump Into: An Epilogue

he never learnt to fight back

he never learnt to give up as well

he climbed the mountains

with a weight on his back

he jumped from the mountains

and into the valley

but still survived

living a life

with no place to die

i recall the last words

he died fighting bravely in the war

a child born under dark clouds

you were never the problem

i hope you rest in peace

i hope sun shine bright in next life

so go descend for the heavens

and may i never lift my pen again

to write atrocities committed

on the name of love

Defeat

he is not cut out to live with all of this-

to live while bearing the scars

countless of spears in his chest

yet still breathing

blood all over the floor, returned defeated 

every time he went on the war

with a hope that someday a savior will arrive

bearing a sign of peace and not bruises from a father

Collection

he collected all his hopes, dreams and wishes

hid them under floorboards of his room

letting them all rest in darkness

while burning in fire that comes from loss

he collected everything he had in himself

every star that was showed him

and when nights begin to bleed memories

they all rose back like ghosts in the fog

he collected every last bit of innocence

it was no longer the way to live

he must abandon the house he lives in

in order to fight something that isn't his

he told his child version to stay quiet

listen the voice through the cracks

silent all the voices from under floorboards

and rest in peace if he can't run away

Growing Up

no one ever taught him how to be a grown up

all he is now a puppet, controlled by dangerous thoughts

that tells him to run towards hill and jump into the valley

freedom is far beyond his reach 

he believe his older version was too strong

he had dreams, wishes and knew how to cling with hope

but now everything is rusted

he breathe poisonous air

from his dreams in flames

hope is a devil disguised as a beauty

no one ever told him how scary it gets

he doesn't wish to grow up

Family Love, Family Scars

is it ethical

if he says he hates his family?

they did him wrong but then the world will say-

"god help this child possessed by the spirit

he's the one in the wrong".

he tries to find a reason to love them,

because he is in debt for raising the man he is now

but then again, they reminds him-

his existence is wrong.

he is not saying he hate his family

if so, then they hate him too

the reason for this is far beyond

this poet's understanding

they also loves him,

giving him a crown of jewels 

but imposing something upon him

that was never his to begin with-

to carry the weight of stones they bore.

and the arguments, the words thrown at his prime

it is hard for him to breathe sometimes

he's locked in a dungeon he can't escape

Stars

his blood boils in rage

the words out of that man's mouth

were always laced in poison

haunting this feeling was

for someone recovering from a loss

the stars that were glued to his sky

all began to fall down one night

he can't even wish upon them

hoping for a good ending to this story

because each star is a hope he sowed 

his blood boils in rage 

when that man ever hit him

he can't even stand his ground

so will he even tells his father

that he was not made to be hurt

with the hands that raised him

Swing Pt.2

he sits on a swing and mourn 'what could've been'

a little child inside a devil like him longs for a home

is it that he wish to run or return to same old place

he will forever be lost in the woods, searching for the end

his body turning cold and sweat running down the skin

heart on its high and face appears to be pale

running from everything that he inherited 

he just want to die and live in eternal peace

Chopped Wings

his wings were chopped at an early age

he was just learning to stand up and live his life

the cricket grounds are still lively without him

but his ghost still lingers around watching everyone

what could've been, what he would've been

they all haunt him in middle of the night

what he has become now is the result of ignorance-

someone whose heart was bleeding but ignored each dawn

Swing Pt.1

a ghost of a child at the playground

swinging on a swing

laughing and having fun

a ghost of a child at the playground

swinging on a swing

he was never found at local cemetery

priests went out in search

exorcists did their performance

but the child was swinging on a swing

Hiding Pt.2

he hid himself in the closet

whenever he heard the footsteps in the hall

and when that man was in the room

he would stare through the open cracks

he knew it at the age when others were in playgrounds

the fear of a man who called himself his father

but nothing like one and only a tyrant

a monster who bullied his own kids

Hiding Pt.1

he locked the door of his room

closing all entrances, even the windows

to stop the monster in his dreams

roaming in hall from coming in,

he locked the door of his room

placed a chair and sat under the table

the sound of footsteps was getting loud

he just sat there talking to his toys

he locked the door of his room

he just stared at the pendulum bob

writing apologies on unsent letters

waiting for the footsteps to pass

Drawing

she was too innocent to understand anything

too small to differ between love and pain

so she learned to express what she felt

she would lock herself in room with her dolls

and take out crayons and began to draw

a mother, a child and a man with big hands

Dinner Table

sitting on the dinner table

where instead of food, he was served cold

silence turned into words that hurt

sitting on the dinner table

he was served disappointment from others

who questioned his existence

sitting on the dinner table

his father made a loud thump on the table

spewed out his hate he always keep close

Valleys

he is always made at his own child

for the stones that come his way

but his child will forever be grateful

for what he has done for him

he is always mad at his own child

the one he raised under his roof

to make him into a man, only to

crush him under his own trauma

now grown into an adult

he wishes to run away to a place

where land stretches upwards into hills and peaks

and there are valleys to jump into

No One to Call

he hates his family

They all had restricted his freedom

That’s how he ended up like this

With no one to call or visit-

and share his deepest thoughts with a friend

I won’t say anything or

raise questions on someone's intentions

because that's who this poet is

i made my finest decision to be alone

over the dramatic chaos life brings when I'm happy

Valleys to Jump Into: A Poetry Series

I didn't saw it coming. I had decided to give my pen a much-needed rest and that was going well until a idea struck to me which i resonate with to a certain level. For me my escapism lies in writing, whether its a story that i'm writing or a play and a poem. I love to immerse myself into a world where everything is ruled under my laws and no one to hate me, a world that does not hurt me. With writing, another thing that comes with along the art you make is the old wounds getting new and so they never gets healed. "Everybody has moved on in their story so why am i still clinging to same old branches that have long fell on the ground?"-with this question in my mind i decided to stop writing. Currently the vault itself has more than 600+ poems that are yet to be made public. However this is not what i came to talk about. I have a new poetry series (and probably my last).

"Valleys to Jump Into" is a poetry series about generational trauma, lost innocence and growing up. I'm here to share the pain of a child who is an adult now looking back how that love he got was always conditional. He is hunted by the guilt that if he ever speaks out against the trauma that his family gave him then he will be an ungrateful child who doesn't respect all what they have done for him. And this is the core of this poetry series and how he must break away from this curse called "generational trauma".

These poems tells the tale of a child who was forbidden from the playgrounds, forcing him to watch everyone from sidelines, cold dinner tables, ghost of a child swinging on a swing and his older version trying to jump into the valley. I have poured my heart into everything, every poem is a shriek of that child, his lost innocence, growing up and much more. This series is titled as “Valleys to Jump Into” because it’s all about escaping from this real world, a will to die or forever believe in your convictions while constantly bleeding. The poems in this series are:-

1. No One to Call
2. Valleys
3. Dinner Table
4. Drawing
5. Hiding Pt.1
6. Hiding Pt.2
7. Swing Pt.1
8. Chopped Wings
9. Swing Pt.2
10. Stars
11. Family Love, Family Scars
12. Growing Up
13. Collection
14. Defeat
15. Valleys to Jump Into: An Epilogue

Note- These poems are not based on my life, i saw so many comments and I would like to make it clear these are not about me and my childhood. Its a concept based poetry series.