15249 posts
  • azazel 14h

    Happy disposition

    Forsaken and alone
    I walk as though I’ve never been in better company
    Broken and cold
    I sit as though there is nothing better to be
    Empty with shadowy dark tones
    I ponder what else life could possibly have to give to me
    An over flowing soul
    Intoxicated by life’s simplicity
    And all that possibility

  • ananya_writes_ 19h

    If tomorrow starts without me

    If tomorrow starts without me
    If another body of thoughts, went lifeless
    It wont stop all stories of world, though
    Where would my stories flee, to whose address?

    The tussle between breath of life and
    pain of living, is the highest of God;
    Until I had bent my knee in his temple,
    I was the sole faith of mine; an illusion, a fraud

    I surrendered my ego long ago to the stars
    Broke off threads of hopes, living day by day;
    Flowing with the waves of ever story,
    I am imbibed with every emotion alive, anyway

    So if the temple breaks down tonight
    You’d miss the time traveller in me
    For I felt life like the vulnerable open heart,
    Creating pockets of time; shakles of clock no where to see

    My memories will play on loop forever,
    Only you left to witness, while I’ll dive deeper
    In the abyss of the dead dark sea, another universe
    Feeling emotions, those not to be felt by the alive howsoever

  • sree_nidhi 21h

    Brought to the entrance by storks,
    As the scythe mark someone's departure
    In between is a journey of a lifetime
    Simple yet beautiful
    Yet we struggle,
    Looking for purpose and meaning
    When all we need to do is,
    Just smile and love
    Let the warmth in it,
    Reach the cold void in others
    And watch it does the magic of healing.

    #love #smile #life #death #journey #purpose #meaning #beautiful #lifeadvice #wod @miraquill @mirakeeworld @writersnetwork @writerstolli

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  • madinah_writes 1d

    Death ______/______//_______

    Death is bitter in taste,
    Life gets better yet, it's a waste.
    The garment of death black,
    His touch, no man would ever lack.

    The line of Death is straight,
    Compared to the devil, you hate.
    The breath of death is slow,
    The feel of death is cold.
    It moves in seconds,
    You don't have to be so old.

    The eyes of death look focused
    Moving in shadows, of course.
    Death is bold without fear.
    Death never sheds a tear.

    Death might be your best friend.
    He comes temporarily, lying on your bed.
    Death never departs,
    He hold you dearest to heart.

    Cheap is death,
    Life is wealth.
    Death is neither friendly or aggressive.
    So who are you impressing?

    Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
    To every life, death is must!
    Death is your end,
    You don't want to hear.
    So do I.
    Death is your friend.
    So is mine.

    The principle of death is simple.
    In his eyes, holds the end.
    Life is all about trouble,
    Death is rest, a life without end.

    The house of death is clean,
    It seats with your soul.
    It's also an angel without sin.
    For God destined everything.


  • madinah_writes 1d


    The eyes of life is white.
    The feet of life is black.
    The feel of life is bright.
    No man alive would never lack.

    The hands of life is invisible.
    The form of life is whole.
    The mind of life is invisible,
    For it is your own soul.

    The sight of life is motivative,
    It's name could hold deep meanings.
    You are dead if you're inactive,
    Too free in it and you are bound to have regretful feelings.

    Life is time,
    Legless yet moves in full speed.
    You own your life but can never un-time.
    Or rewind all your misdeed.

    Life is death in a beautiful wears,
    All you want is the goodness of things.
    The truth might taste bitter to your ears,
    Well, we are all human beings.

    Life is sweet to live,
    But death is it's twin.
    At the end, life takes all it gives.
    Yet, it is irresistible to sin.

    The words of life is yours,
    In form of words, holy or not.
    The words of death is yours,
    In form of actions, sinful or not.


  • literary 1d

    The rustle of leaves tells a story of ceased greenery...


  • euthanasia_ 1d


    Depression kills,
    But I'm not dead yet...

  • shadesofyu 3d


    "Be strong" they said. "How could I?", Her mother thought. When her son's coffin was being laid in the grave.

  • in_fragments 4d

    Been depressed, fighting thoughts of suicide lately, thinking about all the trees I used to climb, how they're changing mostly for the worst. These cycles come and go for me- on Unbearable Depression Mode in this poem. But at least I have to stay alive to write a poem about dying. Even when they're horrific and sad, the words keep me here every single day. I can never stop for too long.

    If any you are experiencing these same scary things, be sure not to keep it bottled in. Talk to someone you trust and love, express it in a journal or a piece of art, find a therapist who can help guide you out of the darkness. You deserve to discover the light that's waiting for you. ��
    #pod #narrative #poem #thoughts #nature #trees #life #death #suicide #suicideawareness #depression #recovery @miraquill @writersnetwork @writersbay

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    Death Is A Tree In The Suburbs

    P̟a̟r̟t̟ O̟n̟e̟: R̟e̟f̟l̟e̟c̟t̟i̟o̟n̟s̟
    In my backyard,
    in this modern townhouse suburb,
    where the alleyways are grassy
    and venerable earth
    lies suffocated by cement;
    where evergreen pines and maple trees
    loom loftily over our homes;
    the scent of homemade barbeque
    wafts its way around,
    and children scream out in play,
    racing each other
    through their cul-de-sacs,
    circling back by the end of the day.

    Right now, the morning sun
    is arriving tall across our doors,
    bringing both disturbance
    and opportunity in its golden eye.
    My sight is becoming more obscured
    by the old tree outside my window-
    the one my parents planted
    when they moved in, 30 years before
    a future like mine was on their minds.
    It used to be so small,
    like every infant sapling, now it towers
    over every roof and moving horizon,
    clipping every sun ray
    behind the veins of large leaves...

    A grand, developed elm tree
    on the other side of our street;
    standing sure rooted
    next to the house on the end-
    the tree we would voraciously climb
    when we were loud, intrepid children,
    paying no mind
    to the old lady living inside; the one
    who screamed at us for climbing
    every time we tried,
    until the year she died
    and we had no idea. All we had known
    was that our favorite tree was back-
    because the old lady was dead,
    her home abandoned,
    and we were far too young
    to notice the peculiar change.

    Time doesn't wait for you
    to notice it, like the sky which races
    in circles at a speed too fast to feel,
    like the trees that keep growing
    without checking in for permission.
    Death is a tree in the suburbs-
    one too large to keep curated,
    so it is stunted or cut down; and Life
    is a pernicious vine,
    pestering the cracks in the sidewalk
    as it breaks its way through them,
    growing high and away from concrete
    or along the sides of wooden sheds;
    always going up, and up, and up...
    because nature may
    be dying at our hands- even still,
    it always wins out in the end.

    I wonder how high
    these tree branches will take me...
    Maybe up into the clouds,
    if I never, ever stop.
    Scaling their thick limbs, sitting midair
    is the closest we can come
    to flying without steel wings.
    What stands between Life and Death
    is air, and a body to get you up there-
    skin and bone, between tree and vine,
    surrounded by sky; the realm
    where life and death conjoin...

    P̟a̟r̟t̟ T̟w̟o̟: I̟d̟e̟a̟t̟i̟o̟n̟s̟
    I don't climb anymore.
    I've been too exhausted for decades.
    Now I grumble and bend and ache
    like the trees here do;
    one side of themselves trimmed
    completely away,
    half-dead with hardly a chance,
    and the stern winds pushing
    their branches close to snapping.
    Death is a tree in the suburbs-
    every one I've fallen from,
    every one that taught me
    how to feel alive-
    we continue to kill them,
    and I continue to die with them.
    It was all so different
    when we were younger.
    Now I helplessly watch it all oscillate,
    I get older, feel more ruinous,
    with less reason to be alive.
    The trees awaken towards the sun,
    they beckon me to climb my favorite one,
    they whisper this, "If you would die
    to see the beauty of this world
    one more time, then what have you
    to lose?"

    What have I to lose?

    P̟a̟r̟t̟ T̟h̟r̟e̟e̟: T̟h̟e̟ S̟p̟l̟i̟t̟-S̟e̟c̟o̟n̟d̟ S̟n̟a̟p̟
    Death is a tree in the suburbs,
    and I, a tired child, am listening-
    clamoring and ascending it,
    falling one last time for it.
    I climb, and I climb,
    going up, and up, and up,
    clutching the timbered boughs so tightly
    they etch imprints into my palms.
    I watch the final stage of the sunrise
    through decaying orange leaves
    and empty bird's nests,
    a hundred feet up or more.
    I watch the sky bleed its colors,
    turning into familiar, beautiful cerulean.
    I hear the birds begin their chirping,
    closer and sharper than from land.
    I wonder if they are speaking to me.
    I wonder if they are confused,
    intrigued, unconcerned.
    I observe the morning dew drops dancing
    on my wild wooden throne,
    forming like gems on my face
    and on the green grass below.
    One more breath, and the vertigo begins.
    I inhale again and feel myself
    smile as I sway, close my eyes
    and relax...
    then one more long exhale
    as the tree branch holding me
    abruptly snaps.

    It allows me to fall so rapidly,
    before my brain can rush to meet it-
    a ragdoll body flying downwards
    out of the sunlight,
    landing with a rigid crash
    deep into the immense shade of fate-
    with no one to watch it go but the birds,
    the trees, hidden insects, the sky,
    and the eye of the rising sun.
    It is a most cathartic drop for all.

  • thedepressedsoul 4d


    Birds shot from the sky;
    Fish taken from the sea.
    It's time. My time to sleep.

    No hope of healing and I'm done crying;
    I can't help the way I'm feeling.

    My body is still here but the soul has gone;
    Footprints of life stretching far too long.

    Every day, every hour, everything over and over again;
    I can't take it; I just need an end to this pain.

    A dying rose, a fallen petal;
    I need to go above the clouds now, to a place that's special.

    I'm thinking of the birds shot from the sky and the fish taken from the sea,
    This is how it has to end and I'm thankful to you for helping me.

    I'll close my eyes and count to three...
    Please my friend this journey has outrun me.


  • imquerencia 1w

    As I open the window in my left side
    The splash of the flashlight appeared
    The rain poured heavily
    I feel like heaven send their grief with me.

    Sounds of sea waves are literally calling me
    As the thunderstorm welcoming of my arrival
    I saw a bird flying on the sky
    They are singing my victory

    Do you think it is Ironic?
    That It's called victory when my death comes
    No, because I waited it fo so long
    Now I'm gone, my shadow will follow

  • imquerencia 1w

    In case I die

    My love, In case I die tonight
    Put my lifeless body in the graveyard
    Let me hug you as my last goodbye
    And kiss you through the wind.

  • aditiiisingh 1w

    //Lantern of hope
    greasing the floor
    burning no fuel
    wind whistling through
    window panes
    drenched rails
    eyes red
    elbow cringed
    legs hinged
    inflated chest
    collapsed lungs
    busted wings
    bruised skin //

    A holocaust satire,
    an escape or
    satan knows better
    when bored.

    I have forgotten the feel of feeling things
    from the beginning of umbilical cords tweaking and winding me,
    with course of time have lost gradually;
    everything triggers so fast to congest without pulled.

    No wishes are fulfilled even if it's death wish , you might die eventually but now more anxiously.
    Not any expectations, fear of falling in black hole or it's potential to pull me,
    but to never feel the warmth of sugar syringed happiness
    where serene of melody plays swiftly in unheard magnitudes of psychic.

    I feel numb when happy
    just become so dumb
    when people around me
    They say"I hear you "
    "We understand you"
    but misunderstanding of others
    has provoked me to feel this negativity,
    with so high intensity.
    Hash isn't what I need
    to encounter suffocation mixed in euphoria .

    But how I express without being framed as someone who rants
    or cry easily ,
    someone who doesn't know to share.
    The real me is dead but still alive
    that's one flaw
    people will never accept me for
    So, I laugh whole heartedly.

    ~©aditiiisingh ��

    PS- Life is too short to not feel, so feel until you alive and know to let go ☮️
    @writersnetwork @miraquill @mirakeeworld @mirakeereader @mirakeereposter
    #death #life #poetry #poem #writing

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    Moulded in deepest scars with darkest secrets!!!

  • streetdog 1w


    If I am dead and forgotten

    My foolish talks and things will make you remember me

    But not in a happy way

    You will be in great sorrow because you love me more than I love you

    But I will keep trying to love you more than you do.

    If you die first you will never be forgotten for a second for the rest of my life

    For I loved you and always will

  • pyro_sagen 1w


    Tie my feet to rocks and drown
    Hell is only six feet down
    Once my body hits the ground
    My last breath of relief
    Is the only sound

  • kajalpawar2911 1w

    केवल्य समशानम महास्थानम!

  • anuradhasharma 1w

    हमारे एहसास बाक़ी हैं, हमें जिंदा रहने दीजिए।

    बाद में खर्च हो जाना हैं, फिर अपनी मर्ज़ी करते रहिए।


  • khushi6 1w

    I do not fear death,
    I fear the pain that comes with it,
    I fear that lifetime of happiness would just disappear in one moment,
    I fear that just in seconds, everything I had and ever wanted would be gone like it never existed in the first place,
    I fear the emptyness,
    I fear nothingness,
    I fear the grief crawling my viens into my heart just thinking about it,
    I fear that it will happen when I actually didn't want it,
    And when it will come knocking at my door
    I won't be able to close it,
    I fear so much and everything,
    But not death itself,
    I fear when death will come,
    I will not be ready for it.


  • sooyaa_ 1w

    Do you see?

    Do you see the darkness ?
    I do!
    And I see myself getting lost in it
    And I see all the places we ever been to
    Do you see I'm gone
    Well I definitely do
    And I see you, shading tears over my death when you didn't give a fuck about me when I was there

    It's been exactly 24 hours since I looked in the mirror and I saw the rip up I've done to my life
    I was 22 with poison in my left hand and a blade in my right,then I decided right can never be wrong

  • madinah_writes 1w

    We are in the ocean of love.
    Until we what we call eyes,
    The camera of life hangs on to the sky above
    And it's your voice of nature,
    That's keeping me holding on to my dark life.
    If I sink or dive.
    To my not-so-far away death or life.
    We are in the ocean of love.
    Until we what we call eyes,
    The camera of life lowers to the earth below.
    Hovering in soapy waves.
    Washing my hands and feet.
    Would still be my last deed before I leave,
    Death is it is isn't defeat.
    It is a peaceful dive,
    In the ocean of love at night.
    Cold and peaceful.