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  • diyabedi 1d


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    How did I slide into the zone where when I close my eyes my world no longer dissolves into tiny stars instead it dissolves into darkness?

  • diyabedi 1w

    Heyyya lovely people! I am sorry for leaving so abruptly and then appearing again all of a sudden ��
    I don't know for how long I will be like this, kindly bear with stupid me :")

    @writersnetwork @mirakee #paradox #pod #ceesreposts #wod

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    The sky looked so blue
    I felt as if the happiness will pour down soon
    But it turned so gray all of a sudden
    And clouds holding back their tears of burden
    Can you trust me if I say I am that sky,
    a canvas of endless uncertainties?

    The sun did not want to smile
    even though its bright colours seem so joyous
    The moon wanted to hide those grave scars
    Even though it looked beautiful with those flaws
    Can you trust me if I say that I am the sun and the moon,
    Cheerful and beautiful yet so broken and scarred?

    The wind brushed my cheeks and whispered
    Loud enough for the world to hear those shrieks of anxiety,
    The storm came so close that it heard me cry and scream in pain
    Yet what the world could hear was bleak silence
    Isn't it true that silence is itself a language, powerful and complete?
    Can you trust me if I say that I lie between that silence and noise,
    A music which is calm yet chaotic?

    Summer was growing in the depth of winter
    Just like that moment when a new life grows in the slow death,
    And the spring was getting ready for the naked fall
    Just like an unknown existence gets ready to face the world
    Can you trust me if I say that I am known to the world and yet unknown to myself?

  • diyabedi 5w

    It feels like years, I don't even remember when I last wrote. So here it is, something clichè.


    I am made of porcelain
    My skin is translucent reflecting
    all the emotions just like the poetry
    But the poetry has no letters
    no metaphors, no lexicons
    the page is empty and I am empty
    Fragile enough to crack down
    Cracked, my skin shines
    The light is entering in the cracks
    I am now weary of the hollowness

    I am made of porcelain
    My face is like those pale and soft petals
    that are just about to wither
    There are stretches and patches in my face
    That dictates my inner voice, my demons
    When I look at my reflection in the water, in the mirror
    I am unearthed of the darkness underneath
    That needs some light and a glue
    To be fixed again and hide the marks
    I am now weary of breaking and fixing

    I am made of porcelain

    @writersnetwork @mirakee #pod

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  • diyabedi 8w

    The Sea of unfathomable stories

    The sea is stagnant
    Amidst that controlled chaos
    Do shells still sound like the sea?

    The ambience is long gone
    Leaving bleak silence behind.

    @writersnetwork @mirakee #wod #ceesreposts #pod #mondo

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  • diyabedi 10w


    The last droplets
    on the glass window
    Dried off; the steaming
    coffee mug on the table
    mixed with the distinctive
    smell arising from the
    dry particles of earth
    Is it really the smell of earth?
    Or my heart is reeking of
    those eloquent blood poetries.
    I just skipped a heartbeat
    or two after listening the

    What kind of connection
    is there between the raindrops
    and all those poets finding joy?
    Thoughts. Expressions.
    I didn't find them relatable anymore
    I have turned into some
    Invertebrates that almost feel
    nothing at all; Emotionless
    But still why do my poetries
    about rain feels so heavenly?

    The grey sky or those grey metaphors
    the nimbus clouds or those bad times
    the cold whispers or the trauma
    The seeds sown in the wet soil
    Or the bravery to overcome everything
    Are the elements of my fragile heart
    The nightmare that gave me tears
    and the rain poetries that
    caress its magical fingers to wipe
    them away; No more tears they say
    Sooner or later I realised:
    "Raindrops are my only reminder
    that clouds have a heartbeat too.
    That I have one too"

    The last line in inverted commas is by Tahereh Mafi.

    @writersnetwork Thankyou so much for the repost. It made my day ❤❤ (5)

    @mirakee #pod #wod #ceesreposts

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  • diyabedi 11w

    Wanna chat over a cup of tea about this teacup poetry?
    (Meh XD)
    Special offer for @writersnetwork @mirakee ��

    #pod #wod #teacupdictionary #ceesreposts

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    Magic happens
    Dark found Light
    A gift of silence

  • diyabedi 11w

    Today is National Bravery Day and me is writing slogans for the assignment XD
    Tell me how is this?

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    Diya Bedi

  • diyabedi 12w


    I was dressed in misery
    after killing my own thoughts
    That once used to make me happy
    I was wearing a golden crown
    To prevent those uncanny imaginations
    But isn't it true that
    "Appearances are deceptive"
    The crown was rusted from inside.

    All I know is life is never the way
    you imagine it to be
    I changed from a beautiful caterpillar to a
    caged butterfly that have choosen it's own doom.
    I searched happiness in the cadence of winds
    that freeze before it touches me
    There was a tinge of sadness in everything I do
    My heart aches for the past and I regret
    The metamorphosis that lead me to misery.

    I was that pain and those tears
    Lying as an empty carcass in the necropolis
    To discover a window in that dingy coffin
    Through which my soul can escape
    And soar the sky to a world away from distortion
    To a world where my grey metaphors will turn
    Into smiley similes, bad imageries to good memories
    Where I can die in some peace.

    ~In the end I realised that I am a small piece of art that will occur in the novels that no one will ever read.

    @writersnetwork @mirakee #pod #ceesreposts

    @love_whispererr @cosines @my_cup_of_poetry a read?

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  • diyabedi 14w

    300th post!
    Happy new year everyone ❤

    January: The Longest Winter

    In the depth of winter when the world is white,
    I find praise for January in its monotonous hue,
    Where summer lies in the graveyard, six feet out of sight.

    When the cold wind blows in the empty streets of lost delight,
    How pleasant ,as the sun declines, to view
    in the depth of winter when the world is white.

    People have seem to forgotten that January is a flower of night,
    Welcoming coldness with new beginnings as the world goes wheeling through,
    Where summer lies in the graveyard, six feet out of sight.

    Waiting for the snowflakes in the blinking stardust of skylight,
    Seeing the good changes to bring laughter on every morning when the wind blew
    In the depth of winter when the world is white.

    From the domes of church and the gable roofs hang the icicles quite,
    My heart stirred to imagine that a world approached after a year of anticipation anew
    Where summer lies in the graveyard, six feet out of sight.

    The time will shift, the transition will occur and the poets will write,
    "Curse on the fog to hide our sun, is there any wind that I knew"
    In the depth of winter when the world is white,
    Where summer lies in the graveyard, six feet out of sight.

    Pic credit: @mehtaharshita
    Pushing my boundaries this year so I tried writing a Villanelle Poem. Tell me if I did any mistake in writing this.

    Happy reading!

    @writersnetwork @mirakee @writersbay #pod #Januaryc #iciclec #winds #ceesrepost

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  • diyabedi 16w

    I want to be cured of the desire of merging two facades into one and the guilt of not being able to separate them.