#Curse

690 posts
  • swethaphoenix 3w

    Epic yet ironic.

    How could a single fragrance bring me back to life after my forever death,cursed by who holded onto it?!
    ©swethaphoenix

  • thoseunspokenfeelings 6w

    #Thoseunspokenfeelings #Crime #Murderer #Criminal #Curse

    She was the curse of his life...!��

    ©Unspoken Words

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    Murderer

    She was a criminal.
    She did a crime before she die.

    She was a criminal.
    Because she didn't give her best to him.
    She didn't make him happy.
    She didn't let him to be happy.
    She murdered of him.
    She was a murderer.
    She was a jerk.
    She was the curse of everyone's life.
    She was the criminal of his life.

    She was a criminal.
    She did a crime before she leave the world...!

    But after that,
    She was murdered by a serial killer.
    She was found on a road...!
    ©thoseunspokenfeelings

  • nemesis_here 7w

    The Curse

    Darkness surrounding, hope still there,
    everything around is pale and blunt.

    The colossus in me is screaming,
    outside I can only hear a grunt.

    This is a gift from my admirer,
    this is a curse of Nemesis, being upfront.

    ©nemesis_here

  • the_forbidden_child 8w

    How Sacrosanct love maybe, curse it is when not reciprocated

    ©the_forbidden_child

  • brainn 10w

    Affection

    Blood drops from my eyes and tears flows through my veins as I try to pen out how affected we are by affections.
    We care less we claim
    But no one been so heartless as to loose it's heart.
    Even the Dead could sometimes show compassion.
    I guess Affection is just a curse we all have been cursed with
    ©brainn

  • lollipop71 10w

    Consumed

    You come around more, almost everyday,
    You make me want to forget the way,
    Sanity slowly drifts away.
    You cloud my mind with your evil ways,
    Your curse on me it makes me hate
    To the point I feel overwhelmed with rage.
    I try to fight you but it gets more strenuous,
    More complicating.
    Every hour, every minute, every second of my
    Life is consumed by you that voice in my head
    That just will not go away.
    I pray you will leave me be, put me out of my
    Misery.
    ©lollipop71

  • away_with_words 15w

    @writersnetwork @miraquill @love_whispererr @tomorrow_is_amazing @writerstolli #pod #edgarallenpoe #curse #narrative #ceesreposts



    "...Alas, the wiser choice did seem
    like foreign words I could not read
    a weaker foe to curiosity.
    Thus on the door, my knocks numbered three.

    On portal’s edge, the wait did seem
    a lifetime spent, eternity.
    Heard racing heart, mistakening
    its pounding pulse for echoed feet..."

    Read More

    The Twisted Text

    On these pages: a story writ.
    Not lines of love, near opposite.
    With wicked words, bursting seams.
    and pictures ripped from horror scenes.

    This transcript: tallied tragedy
    seemed clear, at first, of trickery
    such that I said, with full belief.

    “I simply bought a book,
    simply bought a simple book...
    bought a simple book this early morn.”

    Nary a choice did I resent
    more than my steps up staircase bent.

    Had I known what fate was in store,
    I would’ve stopped short of the door
    and listened to my heart’s retort
    turn my back to oaken boards;
    neglect to knock, proceed no more.

    Alas, the wiser choice did seem
    like foreign words I could not read
    a weaker foe to curiosity.
    Thus on the door, my knocks numbered three.

    On portal’s edge, the wait did seem
    a lifetime spent, eternity.
    Heard racing heart, mistakening
    its pounding pulse for echoed feet.

    A lock’s release, my wait was for;
    an unlatched, oaken, ornate door.
    As portal opened to the store,
    of echoed feet, I thought no more.

    Creaking hinges, a’rust with age
    made way for shopkeep’s leathered face.
    His cobwebbed volumes filled the space
    and gave the air a smell and taste.

    My steps were slow; I didn’t know
    what book, which nook, my search was for.
    So I walked the aisles, for a while.

    ‘Till a hidden book stood out
    A hidden nook stood out
    A hidden book’s nook stood out.

    Into that nook, up to that book
    my outstretched arms raised hands that shook.

    But now I see that I was blind
    to evil glints in shop-keep’s eye,
    and how my steps had crossed the line,
    but like a fool who pays no mind,
    I gripped book’s spine, as chill gripped mine.

    Alas, Where once I felt so free
    this “simple” book imprisoned me!
    Looking back, it’s plain to see:
    Text locked the door, and tossed the keys.

    On portal’s edge, I sat a spell,
    For front my eyes, world turned to Hell.
    Clocktower bells rang out death knells,
    Mixed metaphor with sulphured smells.

    A lock released, an op’ning door;
    Followed by sounds I can’t ignore
    As I walked home amid the storm,
    of echoed feet, I thought once more.

    What harkened there, shadowed so?
    It made no noise; I didn’t know.
    and so my steps fell soft as snow,
    heard silence then, and nothing more.

    Was it the shopkeep, hidden there?
    In darkness deep, ‘thought saw his glare
    and so I turned, searching, scared.

    Nought, I saw in darkness there
    Nought, eyes spied, no shadows spared.
    Nought, my cry left my fear bared:

    “I face you now, as friend or foe!
    Why you hide yours, I do not know.”

    So still, the shadow stayed his frame..
    as if playing a hidden game.
    His outline froze, stuck; seeming strange,
    Besot, I sought the shadow’s name!
    but to my ears, came only rain.

    Alas, light passed, lit up the space
    where I expected a strange face,
    but to my shock, the revealed place
    held only water, reflecting gaze.

    On puddle’s edge, I searched the grass,
    still found just water, liquid glass
    Just as I thought, “This fog won’t pass,”
    my clouded mind came clear at last.

    A calming breeze cleared my mind’s haze.
    To self, I said, “If blindly brave…
    I’d sell tomorrow to yesterday;
    risk retrospect of future fate.”

    Thus, I thought a tale would end,
    The book, or life, I can’t portend.
    Post-curse, I’m worse for wear, my friend!
    Now words alone don’t serve to mend.

    I turned a page into the book,
    and as before, my hands, they shook,
    The leaves were blank! Was I mistook?

    No words were writ, the pages, bare.
    No words to read, no lines to share.
    No words to see, then one appeared!

    A balked belief, before my eyes:
    that ghost-writ word was leading lines!

    And so I read, still scanning script
    ‘scarce skipping stanzas, none I missed.
    I turned more pages, teeth a’grit…
    Falt’ring, failing to feel my fits;
    I couldn’t stop; cease reading it

    Alas, time passed, still keeping speed
    words filled white pages, enrapt I read
    How does this work? What’s this all mean?
    Why was the cursive cursing me?

    On pages’ end, the words did seem
    a lifetime writ, for all to read
    Right from the start, text taunted me
    divined a doom, a destiny

    Its pox perceived, print paper flat.
    I begged the book to take it back
    “Who’s words were those? Who’s fate is that?
    Who’s life and death, in white and black?”

    Daunted, I delved so desperately
    for I felt my future had past, you see
    Living my life so longingly
    fearing fate’s folly, unfortunately.

    As I read the book, I took
    my final form, ‘spite balance shook;
    lapsed living lies; won’t die a crook!

    I blinked, unlinked, to weaker chain
    I shrinked, to think, of lesser gains
    I winked, on brinks, but not insane

    So now, my friend, I’ll pen some prose;
    dream up new lines; make up new words.

    Where once I thought that what was writ,
    the rise and fall, all of it
    could not be altered, not one bit;
    as if in stone, the letters sit;
    lines laying law, commanding it!

    But now I face what fate comes forth;
    leave letters forming words with worth.
    My written rhymes give gallant girth;
    they sing a ballad; but say one verse.

    I put down past, but faced it first
    in breaking down, I found what works
    I fixed my fate, and shed the curse,
    Better for me but, for you, much worse!

    The book, this poem share a name.
    Perchance that fact would make it plain
    When written words hide horrid hex
    You cannot flee, for you are next!
    ©away_with_words

  • thebhavnasaxena 16w

    Shatter

    In the book of life,
    She had meant to write
    A story of a conquering
    Warrior queen, but instead
    She turns the pages to find, the tale
    Of a wicked queen, holding onto
    Her crown even as her fingers bleed
    And her throne is adorned with the
    Bones of countless innocents.
    She tears up the pages,
    Her book stained crimson.

    In the masquerade of life,
    She wished, nay, longed to be the Venus,
    All beauty, all grace, all charm, and
    The power of a goddess, at midnight,
    The masks come off, and the mirror
    On the wall shows her a Medusa, her own
    Gaze turning her to stone, cold, unfeeling,
    She hates the mirror, let it shatter
    Beneath her feet.

    Let her bleed, drain her out,
    She carries vile blood in her veins
    And vendettas poison her heart,
    How did this happen, she tries to
    Recall, but statues just are, their
    Memories frozen in some pocket
    Of oblivion, statues do not bleed,
    So if this be the curse she put upon
    Herself, let her fall from the mountain
    Of her vanity and let her break.
    ©thebhavnasaxena

  • perdu1992 16w

    I CURSE YOU HAPPINESS

    You broke me
    Which I didn't expect to foresee
    The pieces don't even know their story
    Who once enjoyed their glory
    No touch no prayers can heal
    The wounds reciting their ordeal
    I curse you happiness
    Ignited from my emptiness
    Rising like a phoenix
    Singing some unsung lyrics
    Of my ashes
    Dumped straight into the trashes
    Each episode of your smile
    Should pause you for a while
    To remind you
    My tears are hid in dew
    And its not a benediction but a curse
    Beginning of the end that's worse

    ©Meghna1992

  • fireflynarratives 17w

    The ending of your favourite movie.

    Like one of those movies,
    that I'd re-watch,
    And I wish that it ends in a way I want too,
    You make all the confusion look comforting,
    You make me hard to choose between the unusual choices,
    You make me believe forevers are true,
    You make me fear, all I have of you is now,
    You make all the dates as exciting as the first one,
    You make me, make you my lists of promises and feelings,
    You make me believe that my favourite movie ends in a way, I want to,
    You know, it's almost a sin, it's almost a curse
    That you make heart breaks look so coveted.

    For you those may be, My scribbled list of feelings,
    But for me, those were our promises,
    We made to each other.
    And all I have of now is the promises I made to you.

    ©fireflynarratives

  • reshma_kausar_mohideen 17w

    Crime after crime he fearlessly commits,
    Gradually falling prey to the invisible web that his karma perpetually knits.
    ©reshma_kausar_mohideen

    Reshma kausar Mohideen
    Insta handle: sword_of_word_86.


    #God
    #hope
    #faith
    #mirakeeworld
    #mirakee
    #writersnetwork
    #writerscommunity
    #earth
    #environment
    #gratitude
    #animals
    #violence
    #curse
    #karma

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    WEB OF KARMA.

    ©reshma_kausar_mohideen

  • reshma_kausar_mohideen 17w

    LIFE IS A BOOK.

    Life is a book of perishable pages,
    Divine needle stitching since ages,
    A golden pen called fate has been attached,
    We write every moment till breaths get detached.

    We have been bestowed upon with liberty,
    We may emblazon with iridescent words of humanity,
    Or dampen the divine pages with the ink of cruelty,
    Each page shall vocalise one day in front of the Almighty.

    Some pages hold the fresh cologne of sacrifice and love,
    Pages of blessing earned will appear whiter than a dove,
    Some bear the putrid smell of our pains and tears,
    Some burnt by the flames of our trauma and fears.

    Each page hold the names of people with whom we deal,
    In an invisible ink, on the last eve, it shall unveil,
    Few pages hold the moments of our defeats and victories,
    Whilst others bear the minute details of underlying histories.

    The most important fact about this book that we happen to ignore,
    The ink continually loses its trace on the backside of the page,
    Whatever we write on the face of it, be it pious deeds or actions impure,
    The trace of karma doesn't get deleted until gets calmed it's rage.

    Our book, we'd be presenting in front of the supreme,
    On the day of judgement, each account shall get audited and settled,
    Each and every act of ours shall appear crystal clear to him,
    Penalized will be the sinner, soothed will be the wounded souls who honestly battled.
    ©reshma_kausar_mohideen

    *Reshma kausar Mohideen.*

    *Insta Handle: sword_of_word_86*

    #God
    #hope
    #faith
    #mirakeeworld
    #mirakee
    #writersnetwork
    #writerscommunity
    #earth
    #environment
    #gratitude
    #animals
    #violence
    #curse

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    LIFE IS A BOOK

    ©reshma_kausar_mohideen

  • reshma_kausar_mohideen 17w

    PILLOW - THE LAST
    GIFT

    The vibrant red velour, that had you cloistered within
    With the picture of Dory, the fish, I couldn't resist your mien,
    I remember, a little more you costed than daddy's budget,
    Mismatched with other pillows and mom's closet.

    With a teary face, outside the shop I silently stood,
    As I knew what my smiles couldn’t, tears would,
    Dad entered the shop again after the billing happened,
    Just for that single pillow shutters were withdrawn, counter got opened.

    You were the last gift,souvenir of the dwellers of paradise,
    I feel strong when I rest my head as if my father's arms have enwrapped,
    I sense the warmth of my mother's lap when I shut my yearning eyes,
    It feels that their souls never left, within you they still lie trapped.

    I narrate about how inhumanly they treat an unwanted orphan,
    Whilst suppressing my squeaky cries against your cushion,
    My scars when camouflage with the hues of your coverlet, visible to none,
    They carry away, present in the feet of the owner of heaven.

    All my dreams and desires that without them, incomplete & unfulfilled,
    Lie entangled within the threads of your fabric, safely concealed,
    The pearl of my tears before getting lost in the maze of your threads,
    In front of the lord, to heal my wounds , they must be bowing their heads.


    *Reshma kausar Mohideen.*

    *Insta Handle: sword_of_word_86*

    #God
    #hope
    #faith
    #mirakeeworld
    #mirakee
    #writersnetwork
    #writerscommunity
    #earth
    #environment
    #gratitude
    #animals
    #violence
    #curse

    Read More

    PILLOW - THE LAST
    GIFT


    ©reshma_kausar_mohideen

  • _by_the_edge_of_the_cliff 18w

    Not A Prostitute.

    ''What am I going to do now? Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, longing for water free air. She squinted, trying to figure out the direction she had come from. She took baby steps out of the parking Lot with her hands wrapped around herself and walked down the street as fast as she could, back to where she came from.

          Wrapping her hands around herself, she looked around in fear as her teeth chattered. Lightning appeared in the sky, the deafening sound of thunder followed and the most horrible thing happened, the lights went out. Christiana screamed out of fear and frustration, she had stopped on her tracks.

          An orange light appeared behind her, she turned to look back and noticed the same jeep car as before.

          She stared hard as various thoughts creeped into her mind. Her hands quavered and shook from cold and fear as the jeep car paused to a halt.


    "Ooh no." She whispered.


          Her heart raced. A man in black came down from the car, he looked muscular and fit with tattoos that crawled up to his neck. He was staring directly at her with a little smile playing at the corner of his lips. He took a step forward.


          Christiana's eyes widened, she had also seen another man in the car. She heard a voice in her head, 'RUN.'
    ©_by_the_edge_of_the_cliff

  • bemyheartless_love 19w

    May you feel the moon
    the silence of nights
    you have within and
    the curse you feel the sky
    ©bemyheartless_love

  • reshma_kausar_mohideen 19w

    IF ANIMALS COULD SPEAK.

    An evening sitting alongside my balcony,
    Leaning on my backrest, sipping my hot tea,
    My eyes got caught by a scene of violence,
    The sinners were young, tender was their innocence.

    A puppy was being bullied, as he struggled walking,
    His hind foot was hurt, on the side of the road he was resting,
    Neither did he bark nor scared anyone, silently enduring the pain he lied,
    None bothered to call the vet, none thought of his wound to be tied.

    Then what was that thing that provoked the little children,
    To kick him and pull his tail, to aim stones at the orphan,
    A few minutes later the mother arrived out if nowhere,
    Barked at them, cuddled with her baby and vanished from there.

    I wondered what would have puppy told her mother,
    “Mamma, it's hurting so bad, do not leave me alone ever,”
    “They kicked on my belly and pulled my tail, shouted together into my ear,”
    “Blew off the dust in my eyes, I still shiver out of acute fear.”

    “Why don't we have a house? Why don't we get food when hungry?”
    “Why do we have to sleep thirsty? Why does none punishes the bully?”
    “Why can't we live in peace? We are we being ran over ruthlessly?”
    “Why don’t they understand that even we can feel the pain? Why do we have to bear silently?”

    Whilst licking the bleeding wound, mamma dog comforted her baby,
    Helplessly crying at his questions, she sang an answering lullaby,
    “Humans are they but humanity has bled through their hearts it seems,”
    “Cross-fated are we to be born into such heartless realms.”

    “Don't you worry my child, I will complain to the almighty,”
    “Only he can bring justice to us, the idol of unconditional love and mercy,”
    “Let me cuddle and kiss your forehead until you fall asleep,”
    “and cry out loud to Lord, making a hole in the heavens, dark and deep.”
    ©reshma_kausar_mohideen

    *Reshma kausar Mohideen.*

    *Insta Handle: sword_of_word_86*

    #God
    #hope
    #faith
    #mirakeeworld
    #mirakee
    #writersnetwork
    #writerscommunity
    #earth
    #environment
    #gratitude
    #animals
    #violence
    #curse

    Read More

    IF ANIMALS COULD SPEAK.

    ©reshma_kausar_mohideen

  • bemyheartless_love 19w

    Somehow
    The sky that turns to silences

    Live the best of curse
    You have beloved for

    ©bemyheartless_love

  • bemyheartless_love 19w

    Some clouds aren't meant to be fade
    but it is simply to be written in your poetry as cure of curse that's you never feel all at once with a purpose of miracle
    ©bemyheartless_love

  • slaughtered_heart 20w

    Love, out of all the things
    in the world will be your
    greatest curse if you
    pour it into a wrong person.


    ©slaughtered_heart

  • slaughtered_heart 21w

    I stopped smiling, the tears started
    coming out to see their creator,
    my heart raced to break its previous record, my mind replayed our story
    in just a millisecond, You looked exactly
    like the way I imagined you would be,
    seeing you after so many years felt more like a curse than a blessing. Because I became loser just within a blink, losing
    all the strength I had achieved so far.


    ©slaughtered_heart