Yash Purohit

One road degraded with footsteps prior taken, An easy path, one left your mentality unshaken, Withal, a different road unpaved with viridian blooms, The depths unknown, space untold, and mysterious glooms I step unto the road, diverging here and there The first enthralled with long travelers who hath traveled before me, And many travelers behind soon to breathe the same air But longing to take a step forward, frozen; I sit there and plea Conflicted with a decision, seemingly one worth bricks made of gold Worried that a step forward would leave my lust for the other beckoning road The decisions for I am incapable to fake, and a road for which, I'm unwilling to take Thoughts encroach my mind, am I ready? Am I right? Or am I following Eve's snake? I stare down both roads, hoping, wishing, that some clarity shows The road most taken feels easy, comforting, and appeals to most The road not taken, horrid where my blood runs cold But a beauty persists, for the unpaved path remains so bold Masked with a beauty so precious, nobody dared uncover its riches, The unknown Viridian path is what I yearn as my eternal desire But time and time again, the cold crusade for momentary approval itches, Maybe one day, I gain the courage to embark the Viridian road not taken prior For years down the line, I neglect to sit and weep Had I taken a different step forward, even if it was steep, Maybe, instead of crawling, or walking and being a mere sheep, I would have taken a daring and unfleeting leap *Inspired by Robert Frost

My cracks tell stories of how I became Scattered brush strokes of sorrow and sun An abstract collage of pieces I've gained A mosaic of experiences, ever not done The masters would say I'm unfinished, flawed Rough edges, uneven glaze marring my frame Broken glass that may hurt to the touch And even pieces that may bring a little shame So let critiques come bring fault to my form Opinions seeking conformity to some sterile norm I see these strokes that made me beautifully stained No matter how terribly and mismatched they’re arranged So stare if you want at my blotches and scrapes The spots and smudges, errors in shape I see glimmers of brilliance in all those places And love my portrait that i’ve framed is Of each brush and experience that left its mark That graced me with more soul, however dark Pieces that brought depth and insight Making me a fuller picture instead of a mere sight I wouldn’t trade this stained glass soul I own That’s beautifully stained to the very bone These fragments that life brings our way I’ve curated it into my own unique display

In the garden, a cherry blossom fair, A delicate bloom, beyond compare. Its beauty radiant, yet fading, alas, A mirror of change, through life's looking glass. Each petal whispers a tale untold, Of transformation, both young and old. As it cradles its secrets in a fragrant trance, Change emerges, like a delicate dance. I've long resisted change, I’ve tried, Held onto the past, where I used to hide. But this blossom's grace, a poignant prance, Begs me to ponder, to give change a chance. Change, the enigma, the world's intricate song, In the midst of the right, the midst of the wrong. The scariest journey, the most profound, Yet beauty within its depths is found. The beauty before the bloom is concealed The cherry blossom’s truth revealed So like this flower, I’ll take a chance Embrace the change, and its mystic romance.

After the passing of time is enough, The memories begin to fade, and slowly wither away, Your favourite flower, food, and film now an old adage that’s rough The vibrant heart, that it once was, begins to gray The seasons change, and so does my heart the thing that once beat only for you, now learns to slowly start beating apart I fill this gaping void with new memories newer thoughts, experiences, and opportunistic dreams treating them like my heart's new accessories but as decadent as this may be, the void is left in streams I imagine a day, where the void isn't replaced, But filled with memories I make myself, I know not of anyone taking your place but rather, I find happiness in my self Your memories will remain, albeit slightly distorted with time apart, Your face won’t be forgotten, albeit your position replaced Your time will remain fond, albeit a time again together won’t resurface We may have ended our road together, albeit this is where mine starts