Biography of Shreya Nair
Hi, i am Shreya. and yeah maybe my poems relate to weathering lives and emotions but i personally believe life is beautiful!
Shreya Nair Poems
Before You Fall..
No matter in which corner of world you are, no matter how hard the wind is, no matter how far we are apart, your not alone.
Torn, slapped stamped and burned How far will you suffer girl? Why do you cover the scratches and wounds that still bleed? Why long sleeved covered dresses and that fake smile you wield.
Are you afraid of dark? Or of a heady accident that leaves a mark? Scars and wounds will stay there for forever It’s them that teaches you to get up gracefully like ever
The curfew is pass time, My shorts are already dirty with slime, I am running through the woods in snow Melted snow drips from the leaves, I should’ve known.
Behind The Enemy Lines
Do you even know why you are fighting for? But still your guns will roar. Can you feel those times when mother sacrifice their sons for a war that's a foul, As you lay their tender bodies in graves, watch her sing lullaby to calm her soul.
Let Me Love You
Let me love you when the riddles of grasses grow, The topaz sun never shows Where the ladybirds sleep and sirens weep In midst of tentative promises and hopes
Dear mother whose name I do not know, Who is blooming with me inside, I hear many voices applauding you and your husband. I do not know what waits for me outside your cave,
The Liar Of Lotus Eaters
My role in your life has failed to imprint My footsteps have faded with the erotic wind The hungry storm has taken away my presence In the midst of drunken heartbeats, mine silence
Behind The Mask.
Somewhere beyond the horizon a bluebird wails I know that feeling; I know that heart that ails. It’s not the right time to say to you this, I know it’s too late to think,
Let Me Love You
Let me love you when the riddles of grasses grow,
The topaz sun never shows
Where the ladybirds sleep and sirens weep
In midst of tentative promises and hopes
Beneath your navel and earlobes
Beside the scratches and torn ink
Broods of paper and your lips so willing...
Under the green wood trees that breathe
Your scent, mine, together they wreath