“At one magical instant in your early childhood, the page of a book—that string of confused, alien ciphers—shivered into meaning. Words spoke to you, gave up their secrets; at that moment, whole universes opened. You became, irrevocably, a reader.” –Alberto Manguel

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Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Making Memories

“We’ve been making memories like world is gonna fall apart. We nourish sadness as it is our religion. Love, is all we need. We all love to be lost where love is. But sometimes some things come in combination; love comes in a combination of pain. It is not love if it doesn’t hurt you. Madness acts as catalyst. Some things are mortal –love is fundamental of all. It is perpetual bliss, a blessing. What hurts and still feels good is a blessing. To be a part of limitless, intangible, abstract thing is to have something that will echo in eternity. To live is an art, not everyone can do it. Some people spend time making memories. To have courage to bleed for one without anything in return is like having Elixir. You can’t die. When I say you, it doesn’t mean the body –it’s the one in it. Live!”

It has been hard to hide;
honey I know it hurts like hell,
feelings shine in your eyes like illuminate;
truth is she doesn’t and you badly fell.

It sends you shiver;
and could die for a hug,
you’ve come a long way now;
she has been like a drug.

You’ve started making memories;
‘cause reality is getting tough,
you’ve cursed your heart;
for her presence is not enough.

Oh! you sang to her;
on your chest she slept,
you’ve been losing sleep in tears;
countless times you must have wept.

Her absence kills you;
‘cause feelings never grow old,
You’ve been looking for warmth;
but baby she is cold.

You’ve started making memories;
‘cause you’ve loved and love in vain,
look what she has done now;
you’ll never be the same again.

© Shreya ♥

P.S. My creation, please do not copy | Copyright © Protected | Image: Google

P.P.S. Non-Fiction. Dedicated to a friend.


  1. Replies
    1. Oh, that's very true. :) I guess there's always a prey for the predator.

  2. The infinite memories. And they only stay in the memory box, for our world exists in present time singularity.
    I've thought on these lines so often, that I feel like my religion sometimes could be melancholy.

    1. Yes, we all some or other time think about it. Others are just our extensions. :)


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