Still Surviving

If you ask how am I today, I might tell you—

Darkness growling like the dead, a sad weed or a burned tree. My fingers ache each day
to feel the autumn on fire. Like mordacious nails, scratching the inside of my conjured mind. I know, you might feel nothing. Speechless?
Oh, pluck my skin, see the inner scratch, that is my scream.
Hidden in the ball of vexation, my lips drifting apart, to say thy name.
My pale eyeballs feeling the dead dreams. Oh, how dark, can you see?
I am a hideous soul of stale flesh and paralysed hymns, still surviving.
I am stale lotus blooming in the eyes of the razor-layered body.

©My Valiant Soul

Published by

my valiant soul

A dreamer and a believer for the upliftment of women rights. A published poet, author, writer. Believes in dancing and cooking amazing food for hungry souls at times. Loves to write and write till the moon is satisfied. My writings can be found at Visual Verse, Indian Periodical, Sick Lit mag, Duane's Poetree, Thistle magazine, among various others. Curator of Olive Skins.

52 thoughts on “Still Surviving”

  1. Nice piece of dark poetry.
    Of course, there are different levels of dark.
    I would also have to agree that you are no stale lotus.
    You are more of the fire diamond.
    You just need to decide what is that you want and communicate it clearly.
    Sometimes life is that simple.
    Have a nice day fire diamond.
    You deserve it.
    Fire Diamond
    she sparkles
    like a cut
    yet uncut
    rough with
    precision edges
    reflecting light
    in all directions
    at the same time
    a precious gem
    that’s caught
    on fire
    towards her
    way newly found

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thankyou for boosting up my spirits and my convictions about stuff.
      It really means a lot when a wise dose comes from a great writer like you Forrest!
      I am happy you took out some time to read this and the poetry is marvellous.
      Thankyou yet again!

      Liked by 1 person

  2. All the seeming stale dark parts cutting through the razor sharpness to come to surface …that’s how they look like brilliance to those who see. The beauty of this blooming lotus is undeniable …how the lotus feels? – not many have asked 🙂
    Incredible way of words!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. This is beautifully written, but you are so much more than a “stale lotus.” You are a flower blooming. During the winter, the flower may be in hiding, but once spring comes, the flower shines! You are shining! Love you sooooo much!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Once again, a great use of imagery. I really love the depiction of lips drifting, about to speak. Biting, scratching nails in a conjured mind and likening the darkness to death, a repeated theme, juxtaposes perfectly the light in the blooming ‘stale’ lotus. Humans tend to be quite resilient and we should never be underestimated for darkness is but often a place of rebirth. I also like your use of lotus because it reminds me of its significance in many cultures but more specifically Hinduism for it is from the lotus that Brahma is said to have emerged. Love the layers you weave within your lines, Devika!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh my! You really do know the story of Lotus and that is really fascinating Alex for the Lotus is our national flower also.
      Thank you so much for your deep insights as I always look forward to reading them. Your verdict makes me think more and more.
      Once again, I am happy you connected my this dark piece so well without any fail.
      Thankyou, sincerely!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Yes, it is your national flower and it also has deep significance in Buddhism and Ancient Egyptian lore as being the flower of rebirth. You are most welcome, Devika.

        Liked by 1 person

  5. Loving your use of the lotus…the lotus is rebirth…resting out of the depths of the mud into a beautiful flower…I have a lotus tattoo to remind me where I have came from…days like today, I feel like I’m back in the dark mud, but I have come so far and so have you, bright beautiful flower, we have emerged beautiful and we must not forget that

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I can not express adequately in words how much pain, reading this poem has caused me.It has almost welled up my eyes and made my soul flinch at every verse you have written to describe your pain. This line”I am a hideous soul of stale flesh and paralysed hymns” just tore me apart.
    You have outdone yourself in defining pain.Devika.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. “I am a hideous soul of stale flesh and paralysed hymns, still surviving.” the barest of survival, living the darkest days of your life couldn’t be better put in a verse than this one didi! Loved it! ❤ ❤ ❤

    Liked by 1 person

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