just a vision and a heart matters~

There always seems a way for everything. the only complicated thing is, you need to have a inner vision to see it and a heart to accept it.


Mashutzo Writes.

one positive morning from 365 days...

11.07.2015 (5:30 A.M)

City looks so calm this early morning
Which will not last somehow.
it is going to be hustle and bustle place anyhow.
And this is sad.
The city looks so serene.
The clouds are so quiet and still.
I hear the birds preaching softly.
The mountains look so fresh.
The sky is complete tranquil.
This is all so beautiful.
So much of positive energy around.
Why not cherish this day then?

Mashutzo Writes~

False dreams~

We don't plant  our wishes to collapse, it just happens sometimes and it's so fine. 

Some wishes are better to collapse rather than hanging on to false dreams.

Mashutzo Writes.

Dark ocean~

I swam in the ocean of love,
tranquil  was the feeling,
deeper I swam,
more chilled was my soul.
Middle of ocean,
where to head,
saw a light in a distance,
unworkable to reach,
sadden was solo soul.


Mashutzo Writes.

Drowned in words...

Was Drowned yet was happy,
How fool of me,
That i was drinking disappointments,
Now i see,
I passed through all,
I stay amazed,
Then wonder, 
Perhaps Angels borrowed me their wings till Now.

Mashutzo writes.

Insta me @ taramashutzo

Blackboots...

There I stood by you with my black boots on,
somehow a bit similar to yours,
I wonder if we belong to a common world in anyway,
‘May be’ was the only consoling word I had.
You walked,
I walked,
we walked,
I found the invisible distance in-between.
I widen my steps to walk with you,
my soul smiled secretly the time,
when you gestured to stay with me,
Happy was my soul.
You looked down the city combing your hair with your fingertips,
when I watched our shoulders leaning one another,
you were busy lightening your cigarette,
when I whispered my wishes with the sunset.
We, lost in our world of dilemma,
searched for words to bring up time,
when the silence spoke more than words,
lifting our eyebrows,
was all we did.
The chilled wind bounded the evening,
when the comfort created the romance,
and the romance wrapped around the fingertips,
it rolled so perfectly,
that I only remember the playful touch.
Maybe this is what people call love,
And maybe this is what I call a touch of romance.


Mashutzo Writes.

single weeping soul...

photograph-> dolka a serene view from chiwang Monastery, solu.

A weeping soul,
there she was,
with those runny eyes,
her legs tied in mystified world,
the more she struggle to liberate herself,
the other soreness she experienced,
she was nothing than an expert in déjà vu pains,
there left no substitute for her,
than being patient in the pain,
and those were all in vain.

Mashutzo writes.