thoughts on drawing

INVINCIBLE

I built this
Castle of mine
Brick by brick,
Every inch of it
My sweat has drenched,
Every dome and archway
My hands have carved.
Every painting
In every room,
A story I composed.
Every grille
In every gate
A bone of my foe.
I built this
Castle of mine
Brick by brick,
Now we watch It
Fall to ruins.
I don’t understand
What or how or why
The god has decided
To bring it down.
A quake from below
A thunder from above
And roaring storms from
Every side.
Once my castle
Now a sight of
Catastrophe.
Pity in your eyes
Sympathy in your hold
You worry I might
Break apart too.
I laugh a madman’s
Laugh
And dance the fire’s
Dance
And tell you I’m
Not one to be
Undermined.
I have turned
Abandoned land
Into a fort
All alone
Don’t you think
I can do it again?
These wreckage
And rubbles will
Be the foundation
Of my castle
I’ll build again.
If tragedy repeats
I’ll make history repeat
Building over remains
Time and again.
Stronger and taller
My castle will rise
Above every town
Until no quake
No thunder
No storm
Can bring it down.

-Hira // Castle of mine.

SLEEP CYCLE

Wasting away,
Letting all my
Potential
Soak in a pail of
Procrastination.
I spend the night
Dreaming with my
Eyes awake,
Mind alseep
Thanks to
Silent lullabies
The night sings.
Darkness spreads
It’s wings, a bouquet
Made with feathers
Of serenity
Wraps it around me
Takes me under
And over my anxiety

I find the sun
Rise waving the
Night away
And I find the wings
Turn into talons
Sharpened by guilt
And misery, ghosts of
All that time I kill,
Afraid to face anyone,
Afraid to do anything.
The talons rip and haul
At the comfort I
Seek from ignoring
My issues
To wake up my mind
And my soul.
I lay there aching
And crying
Slowly falling asleep
Watching the city wake up
Now my eyes stay closed
My body has shut down
But my soul screams
In my nightmare.
Daydreams at night
And nightmares at day
The cycle goes on
Becoming stronger
Everytime.
Leaving me weaker
Everytime.

-Hira // Wings and talons.

Hermione had taken his hand again and was gripping it tightly. He could not look at her, but returned the pressure, now taking deep, sharp gulps of the night air, trying to steady himself, trying regain control. He should have brought something to give them, and he had not thought of it, and every plant in the graveyard was leafless and frozen. But Hermione raised her wand, moved it in a circle through the air and a wreath of Christmas roses blossomed before them. Harry caught it and laid it on his parents’ grave.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

One of my favorite scenes.