Participate in the 3rd Season of STORYMIRROR SCHOOLS WRITING COMPETITION - the BIGGEST Writing Competition in India for School Students & Teachers and win a 2N/3D holiday trip from Club Mahindra
Participate in the 3rd Season of STORYMIRROR SCHOOLS WRITING COMPETITION - the BIGGEST Writing Competition in India for School Students & Teachers and win a 2N/3D holiday trip from Club Mahindra

Adya Ghoshal

Fantasy


4.0  

Adya Ghoshal

Fantasy


What lies beyond the mirage?

What lies beyond the mirage?

2 mins 68 2 mins 68

Where's my abode you ask? 

Somewhere between hopefulness and hopelessness, 

A desert where by the day, 

strong storms blow and turn over my home, 

And by the night I could hear the ocean's songs, 

Cold wind blows over my sunburnt skin, 

And if I could only stretch my hands far enough, 

I would touch the surface of my endless dreams. 


I live in between reality and imagination, 

But dwell more in imagination than reality, 

I live in places that exists and dream of those that don't,

And yet found a place to stay somewhere in between my two worlds, 

And when the realities of those worlds clashes,

I create this mirage with the mess inside my head. 


What's real isn't the reality anymore, 

For I found myself in a dreamy land, 

Of someone's grand fantasies. 

I wait for sunrises and sunsets alone, 

As if following a long forgotten ritual. 

Nature speaks to me in ways,

I couldn't explain if I want to, 

This temptation to find my place, 

In a world wherein I grew,

But never found my home.


I identify myself as,

Someone between a human of flesh, 

And a witch of magic, 

For when realities of life burden me, 

Help arrives from spirits unseen,

What is wrong with me I ask you, 

How much normal is normal for you? 

How much do I need to kill myself, 

To be accepted in a society created by you. 

The love I found inside myself is pure and true, 

Even if you cut my wings a thousand times, 

I couldn't hate you, but I will run away. 


My life has become an illusion, 

A dream where I dream of endless dreams, 

A metaphor of unreal realities,

Where nothing makes sense anymore,

But it does when I sense beyond these senses, 

Somehow everything falls into place, 

They call it optimism, 

I call it the divine play. 


What's beyond the mirage you ask? 

Maybe something between nothingness and everything,

A grand life unfolding, waiting to be seen,

But how could I ever tell you anything? 

When the mirage is all that I have ever lived in.


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