#ancient

119 posts
  • dhruvfauji 4w

    स्वर्णिम वर्ष

    मानवता जिसपर थी क्रुद्ध , उस शत्रु पर थे उन्नत आयुध,
    फिर भी सहस्रो से लड़ा सैनिक एक एक,
    जल थल नभ में बन गए थे मोर्चे अनेक,
    सेनानियों ने विजय पाई लड़ क्षण क्षण प्रति एक,
    क्योंकि शस्त्रों के भी शस्त्र थे, वीरता विवेक।
    युवा इस युद्ध में बने छत्रसाल,
    आज भी प्रेरणा हैं अरुण खेत्रपाल,
    सेनाओं का शौर्य था इस समकक्ष,
    तेरह दिवस में शत्रु को कर दिया विवश।
    परंतु वीरगति प्राप्त शत्रु को भी प्रहरी जान, दिया गया उन्हें भी समकक्ष मान,
    लौटा उन्हें सेनाओं ने, किया कार्य नेक,
    क्योंकि शस्त्रों के भी शस्त्र हैं ,वीरता विवेक।
    ©dhruvfauji

  • kajalpawar2911 9w

    "How can I write a poetry for you?
    You're the whole ancient novel."


    ©kajalpawar2911

  • dhruvfauji 17w

    प्रदत जीवन

    था परिश्रम से उपजित स्वेदजल, उसे उपजित है भूमंडल,
    यह स्वेद जल मेरा नहीं, था भगत सिंह सा शेर कहीं,
    दे गोरों के मुंह पर तमाचा, इन शेरों ने हमें बचा डाला,
    संग सब उन्हें नतमस्तक करने वाला, कि मुझ जीव को जीवन दे डाला, बस इस कारण, मैं वक्त नहीं खोने वाला,
    यदि मैं सुस्ती में पडा रहूं, खाता पीता व खड़ा रहूं,
    है धिक्कार मुझे होने वाला, जो कौम प्रदत गई मुझे निवाला,
    उसे हमने ही कलंकित कर डाला।
    है सीने में धधकती ज्वाला, दे दिशा तीक्ष्ण ललकार बना,
    फिर तृण से भरा हो प्याला, केवल उसको आहार बना,
    मैं कार्य प्रगत रहने वाला, अब मैं वक्त नहीं खोने वाला।
    हुए महाराणा से वीर यहां, उनके पद चिन्हों पर चलने वाला, एक उत्तम समाज बनाने को, सम बुद्ध राह दिखाने को,
    मैं दिन-रात एक करने वाला, अब मैं वक्त नहीं खोने वाला, अब मैं और नहीं सोने वाला।
    ©dhruvfauji

  • dhruvfauji 18w

    पथिक के कदम

    हे पथिक क्यों रुके कदम?, क्यों जीवन लगता तुझे बेदम,
    कण कण तत्वों से निर्मित तू, क्षण क्षण कष्टों में जीवित तू,
    हो जीव श्रृंखला के शिखर पर, असंभव प्रतीत से कार्य कर,
    जब देख लिया तूने भुवन, तो क्यों कठिन लगे जीवन?
    फिर क्यों लगता तुझे व्यर्थ हैं हम, हे पथिक क्यों रुके कदम?
    अभी माना लक्ष्य न पाया है, मुड़ पीछे देख!
    तू क्या कर आया है, यदि पीछे ना दिखता हो, तब भी,
    हुए तुझसे महाबली हैं रे, उनसे बाधाएं टली हैं रे,
    फिर सुस्ती छोड़ दिखा दम, हे पथिक क्यों रुके कदम?
    समय बचा है अति अल्प, कर फिर एक दृढ़ संकल्प,
    माना जीवन में कई क्षेत्र बने, जीवित वही जो सर्वश्रेष्ठ बने,
    माना बाधाएं हैं अटल, तू करता जा कार्य अविचल,
    लगता दलदल सम हैं अरिदल, पर सुन,
    यही तो बनाते हमें प्रबल।
    चल अब, है कीचड़?
    तो बन पदम,
    है वर्षा?
    तो बन पवन,
    बस दिखाए जा अपना एक धर्म, एक समस्या चार कदम,
    फिर देख कैसे बढ़ेंगे हम, हे पथिक नहीं रुके कदम।
    ©dhruvfauji

  • moon_pearl 24w

    #lover #ancient #heartache #mirakee #writersnetwork (a lame one again..I time travelled a bit to feel it and write it•_•..but the pain remains same TT_TT)

    _________________________________________

    You left me without a bidding farewell,
    leaving me in a maze where's no way out.
    The lotus pond is no longer willing to bloom,
    sympathising with my pathetic heart.
    ''''''''''''''
    '''''''''''''
    ''''"""''
    The hairpin you gifted now hate my hairs,
    making 'em wave like a silk threads in the air.
    Mine robes are craving for your fragrance,
    wondering if it will ever drench me again.
    '''''''''"'"
    '''''''''''''
    ''''''''''''
    Those bamboos just mock me all day,
    while gazing at the turquoise sky.
    The wind sings me a song of a lonely love,
    howling in my chambers longing for the warmth.
    ''''''''''''''
    '''''''''''''
    ''''''''''''

    @moon_pearl

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    ©moon_pearl

  • poesy_prose 33w

    THE ANCIENT RIVER

    The river run long distances
    As it stretches straight to the past
    I see waterway which opens the fences
    To show me history utterly vast

    I hear them chant allegory
    I see uniqueness of their dance
    I witness moments of glory
    Ancient but yet Advance
    ©poesy_prose

  • fiuntscriptum 34w

    Capturing Rome

    You let your guard down, surrendered your heart,
    They put their guard up, attacked your ventricles,
    You let them have eternity, offered them your soul,
    They became the ruler and reigned over you.
    The scribes wrote, "End of an era",
    The generals sworn new fielty, praises unto thee,
    Bricks, strategies, treacheries, she was built,
    Conceit, lust, underestimation, she fell.
    Who is to blame but your emperor,
    Who is to judge but you Caesar,
    They say it was not built in a day, you should know neither was its fall.
    Captured and forever etched in history, all roads lead to you, Rome.
    ©fiuntscriptum

  • rudrakshachandel 36w

    Labors of Mortal Man (Inspired by Hercules 12 Labors)

    I am nothing but a mortal man,
    Who is tied with the labors of Hercules himself.
    But I, who is not the mighty Hercules,
    Tries to compete with him,
    In my own little existence.

    I get over a hill to only climb a mountain,
    I cross over a river to only cross an ocean,
    I walk a thousand miles to only walk a thousand more,
    And after a few dozen times,
    My soul can't do it anymore.

    The vengeful Herra,
    The prideful Eurystheus,
    Couldn't kill the hero Hercules.
    But the sin of love,
    Did the deed.

    Now what will happen to us mere mortals,
    Without any superhuman strength,
    Who are born with our own labors,
    That we must contend,
    To become Hercules himself.
    ©rudrakshachandel

  • dhruvfauji 37w

    भारत की संतान

    चाहा है ऐसी, उत्तम चरित्र व होऊं ज्ञानवान,
    मैं हूं भारत की संतान।
    सदा अविरल गंगा बहती रहे, फसलों की पंक्ति बनती रहे,
    जो बनाए हमें सदा बलवान, मैं हूं भारत की संतान।
    पुस्तक की बोली लगती रहे, कृषकों की झोली भरी रहे,
    ऐसा रहे सभी को भान, मैं हूं भारत की संतान।
    जहां कर्म का सूर्य अस्त ना हो, और मानवता भी नष्ट न हो,
    ऐसी भूमि, सदा करूं मैं तेरा मान, मैं हूं भारत की संतान।
    जहां नारी शक्ति की क्षमता से, और संतों की करुणा से, भरी रहे तेरी म्यान,
    सब होना चाहे तू समान, मैं हूं भारत की संतान।
    ©dhruvfauji

  • dhruvfauji 38w

    बार बार जागना

    तर्कश के तीरों को स्वयं गढ़ना होगा, तुम्हें बार-बार जगना होगा।
    चाहे ना हो बिल्कुल ध्यान, उसे सम अर्जुन करना होगा,
    गद्दारों के वार सह, उनका मुंह तोड़ना होगा,
    यदि है शांति ही चाह, तो अरदल से लड़ना ही होगा,
    तुम्हें बार-बार जगना होगा।
    सीढ़ी दर सीढ़ी गिर कर भी, तुम्हें ही धीर धरना होगा
    और हर बार राणा सांगा सा वीर बनना होगा,
    यदि सुनना चाहो अपनी गाथा तो एकलव्य बनना होगा, तुम्हें बार-बार जगना होगा
    जीवन के युद्ध क्षेत्र में है लड़ना, तो क्षमता आवर्धन करना होगा,
    अगति में अवनति यह तो सुना ही होगा,
    जो गया समय था उसको भूल, पर्वत पर चढ़ना होगा,
    फिर भी ध्यान आया आराम का, तो प्रेरणा स्रोतों को पढ़ना होगा, तुम्हें बार-बार जगना होगा।
    यदि फिर भी विश्राम की चाह हो ,तो अंत में पछतावा कर चलना ही होगा,
    यदि फिर भी विश्राम लेना चाहो, तो इसी पद्य को पुनः पढ़ना होगा।
    ©dhruvfauji

  • dhruvfauji 39w

    #विश्व #भारत #inspiration #world #unity #power #ancient #poem #life

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    सामर्थ्य

    जब जीवन में कोई संकट हो प्रकट,
    तब लगता है क्या मैं हूं समर्थ ?
    समस्त वातावरण जब कहता है,
    तुझसे कुछ भी ना होता है,
    तब आता है यह प्रश्न व्यर्थ,
    क्या मैं हूं समर्थ ?
    जब भूत भविष्य दिखाई दे,
    हर समय लोगों की बोली सुनाई दे,
    तब उलझन का बनता है व्रत,
    क्या मैं हूं समर्थ ?
    तुझे इन क्षणों में संभलना होगा,
    बिन कृष्ण पार्थ बनना होगा,
    कर प्रतिज्ञा देवव्रत, करता जा कार्य अनुव्रत,
    हां तू है समर्थ।
    4.3.21
    ©dhruvfauji

  • piu_writes 39w

    The first time I saw you my ancient soul recognised you
    ©piu_writes

  • pallavi4 39w

    Afterlife

    When the cold shroud of death comes over me
    Finally setting my soul from my mortal form free
    And I am placed on a pyre to be set aflame
    With only two gold coins left to my name

    To be taken by Hermes to the river Styx alone
    To be judged by the good deeds in life sown
    Ferried by Charon for the judgment of my soul
    By King Minos and other ancients of old

    If I find a place in the Elysium Fields pure was my soul
    If placed in the Asphodel Fields I wasn’t a part of the judgment roll
    And then there is that special place to burn a soul for all eternity
    Tartarus the pit for sinners and other perversities

    I am not scared of entering the underworld
    Where Hades lives with his flag unfurled
    Nor does the judgement day make me fear death
    For I will be allowed life until my dying breath

    Even when my mortal body I am rid of forever
    My soul shall live on, dead but dying never
    I came to this world all alone and free
    Carrying nothing but my life with me

    And that’s how I’ll go when death comes calling
    Without any effects for my afterlife, into the depths of death falling
    I hope I find a safe place for my soul in Hades’ home
    For this soul I ferry around like a loan

    One can neither buy good graces with any amount of gold
    Nor are good deeds in little bags sold
    One can only hope to be judged kindly by the kings of old
    Always bearing in mind we are only vessels for our souls

    @pallavi4

    4th of March, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner

    #wod #afterlife #ancientc #ancient #death #greek_mythology #underworld #writersbay @writersbay @writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #readwriteunite #thepoetrycommunity #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @mirakee

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  • kenblue 39w

    My ancient soul knows selfless love
    For my timeframe is ancient
    I have journeyed from far and beyond through ageless flows of the cosmos
    I am haunted by your ancient transformation of beauty.
    We have intersected and triggered an ancient love
    We will sparkle through ancient times

    ✍️Blue

  • orfayus 40w

    Cicada Sings Sorrow

    Mystic smuldering 
    in miasma of time,
    primed in tomes 
    sequestered with ag'ed
    passing pages 

    Razing around ag'ed
    rhythms singeing soft 
    dy'ng wilting leaves 
    tilted now pass'ed along
    well trodden trail
    swimming in

    Tears

    @orfayus

  • ibthinking 53w

    Love Languages

    Show my body love. Remind me of our primitive nature. Show my body peace as your lips press ease into my skin.  It's never been easier. Your sweet nothings manifest to my everything. God made us 1 but you are my everything. With Every line I wrote I spoke to get you here. I been talking bout the queen since Kemet was on the scene We Speak in languages only few can understand.
    ©ibthinking

  • mmbftd 53w

    Enormous Wings

    Enormous Wings
    As in, a Very old Man With-
    Was a story that stuck with me over the years.
    I re-read it countless times
    To myself
    Or others
    As we lay in summer beds
    Soothing our beach skin
    And drinking tea
    With tiny chips of ice nearly
    Gone away melted.
    I empathized with that poor old man, sympathized, and wept for him.
    I understood as strangers tried to size him up
    He; dirtied and frazzled in the chicken coop.
    As the people tried to make him something he wasn't.
    Something they desperately wanted him to be.
    They tried to mold him, prod him, poke him, hurt him, bend him into what they thought they needed.
    Yet still he remained himself.
    I respected that so much.
    When I was younger, I wondered how he managed to do that?
    How could he be so resilient in his being?
    As I grew old I understood more, how it is always best to stay yourself regardless of how others try to sway or force you into being something else.
    Wether we have wings to spread or simply feet to put one in front of the other, it is best to make a quick escape from those who would see you captured up in their snares.
    It is dark morning here now, as I am up far too early, before the sun I hold so dear. And a very old man with enormous wings comes back to me from the past. He is a messenger for me, or perhaps I am making him into something he is not? Just like the rest?
    I dust off my book, creak it open, smell the age of it, the importance of it. I feel the textured pages with my fingertips. How I cherish these physical books. How permenant I once thought they were. But time changes and degrades things and people.
    The message I find in these pages changes too through my years. Different messages for different phases of my life. And though my eyes see blurry now, I read again and listen, for my message, my epiphany.
    My empathy has never wavered for the old man, although now I understand the mean-ness and cruelty of the people a little more. Life let's you experience both sides the longer you go at it.
    I sit with the story. Let it resonate like some ancient tuning fork picking up my frequency. I need adjusting. To find my way back to a more authentic me, without influence of others on my truth.
    I sip my now cold coffee. I once loved it sweet but now prefer it bitter. Time spins me into new iterations of what I once was.
    I close my cherished book. I wonder how sad it must be for someone to never have had such a tactile experience with words.
    I fold my tattered wings, curl up in my blankets and try to catch a dream again before the sunrise.
    And that old man, he smiles at me, from a past I used to know. Goodnight old man. I love you.

    ,
    ©mmbftd

  • sammiegirl 60w

    "Comme je fus."

    Translates to "As I was." In English.
    -The Ward Family & Ancestors

  • simoneheinis 60w

    I walked along the warm banks of the River Nile, the blue green water glistening in the harsh desert sunlight. The water was calm, but beneath the surface it was anything but. Monsters perused the depths of the river, stalking anyone who dared to get too close to the water's edge and even going as far as to attack the large vessels used for hunting them. My name is Naeem, and I am a slave to Pharoah Ziyad. Well, technically an advisor and companion to his son the Crown Prince Memnon, but a slave all the same. I was a low born commoner, plucked from a life of crime and poverty as a child. My father was a tradesman, my mother a housewife with 7 children. I was the youngest, and caught the attention of the Pharoah's Queen mother whilst stealing from the markets. I was with the local boys, a group of pickpockets and petty criminals. The guards gave chase when a merchant reported us, and caught up to Zaid and Akil, the slowest of us. The guards announced that they would execute the two boys unless the stolen goods were returned right then and there. I had them in my pocket, a pair of precious gemstones. Lapis lazuli and a beautiful emerald. The money the fence would offer me for these would've fed my family for months... But I was not about to let my friends perish, even if it meant forgoing eating properly for the first time in my life. I came forwards, the crowd staring long and hard at me. When I handed over the gems, they all gasped and yelled. They released Zaid and Akil and seized me, talking about throwing me into a cold cell, or perhaps feeding me to the river beasts. Then the queen mother stepped out into the crowd, who had been hiding undercover. The whole town went silent, and the merchant glowered.
    "Allow me to take custody of him."
    The guards were dumbfounded, and immediately let me go. It's a rare sight to see anyone from the royal family outside of the palace, among commoners. Most of the people here have never even laid eyes on their queen. Even though I was young, I remember how she looked, my memory complety unspoiled. She was tall and beautiful, her skin olive, eyes like blue diamonds, voice mesmerisingly melodic yet firm and authoritative. On that day, she took me from my family to live with her in the palace. She told me she needed a trustworthy boy like myself, resourceful and loyal, to be a companion to her grandson Memnon. I grew up with him, and became like a son to the Pharoah and a brother to Memnon. The Pharoah was always quick to remind me of my slave status, however. But the taught me to read and write, gave me food and clothing, even though I was never allowed to see my family again. However, I continued to meet them in secret, giving some of my earnings to my family so that they may have somewhat of a decent life. My brothers and sisters were jealous, but thankful all the same. Izka, my eldest sister, always warned me that I would get into trouble if the palace knew I still had contact with them. If they did know, they never accosted me for it.
    On this particular day, I was out scouting the river. A nearby temple dedicated to the god Hapi, had recently been desecrated. The temple priests had also been complaining about jackals venturing too close to the temple gates, so I was sent to investigate. Hapi was a favoured goddess of Princess Sabah, and demanded that I go and find out the state of the temple.
    "Let Naeem go father! If Hapi is displeased, the flooding of the Nile will surely cease!!! Naeem, chase off any jackals, and make an offering to the divine goddess of the Nile! Naeem pleeeease!"
    Sabah's incessant cries left the Pharoah with very little choice. It was quite amusing how the morning and evening star of our great Egypt so easily gave in to the whims of a 14 year old child.
    I knew the river monsters were watching me, but I also knew the appropriate distance to keep from the water, which kept them at bay. I was nimble and fast, despite my height, and able to escape most dangerous situations with ease. The spear I held in my hand felt warm against my skin, as much as the midday sun. As I approached the temple, a young woman came out to greet me.
    "Ii em hotep, Naeem," she bowed her pretty head politely. "This way."
    She led me into the temple. I looked around, the place looking like it had indeed been vandalised.
    "Can you tell me anything, preistess?"
    She looked thoughtful. "The priests tell me there were masked men, who came in the night." She bowed her head again. "They believe them to be part of the caravan."
    Since Hapi was in control of the Nile, an attack on her temple may be a provocation.
    "Do you mind if I take a look around?" I asked.
    "Take as long as you like." She smiled, and walked towards the entrance of the temple.
    The hypogeum was smaller than the average temple, but made excellent use of natural lighting during the day. On the altar there was various offerings to Hapi, some fruits, jars and gems, some of which had been violently thrown off against the wall. I produced a lotus flower from my bag and placed it on the altar, for Sabah. I continued my search of the temple. The underground rooms, used to house passing worshippers, were deserted. Bedrolls and furnishings had been strewn around the rooms, messing with the favoured symmetry most places of worship strive for. I reached into my bag and brought out my papyrus and quill, meaning to make notes for the Pharoah. I returned to the ground level, and as I did the priestess ran towards me, pale with fear.
    "Naeem, the monster. It's come forth from the river, and it's outside the entrance. It's coming for us!"
    I readied my spear.
    "Which sort, my dear?"
    She froze. "The crocodile."
    Crocodiles are easier to deal with than the river cows. Both are formidable, but if a cow gives chase to you then you're as good as dead.
    "Okay, go underground and wait there."
    The priestess, seemingly frozen with fear clung on to the back of my arm. "Don't leave me."
    I didn't want to waste any more time. I crept silently towards the entrance, and peered around the corner. Before my eyes, was the largest crocodile I'd ever seen. Its red eyes glowed as it swayed its massive head from side to side, seemingly looking for something. I backed into the temple.
    The priestess looked at me desperately. "That is no ordinary beast." She wept. "It is a foul thing from Duat, the Underworld."
    I was not a religious man, but it was true that I had never seen anything like what was standing outside the temple.
    The was a snapping sound and a yelp. I quickly looked outside and saw that the crocodile had a jackal puppy clasped within its jaws. An adult jackal, probably the pup's mother, leapt out in front of the crocodile. She snarled before fearlessly going in for the attack. I saw my chance. I grabbed hold of the priestess and pulled her behind me, escaping the temple with the awful sound of howling and snapping following close behind us.

    #egypt #ancient #ancientegypt #desert #nile #fantasy

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    Legion of Sekhmet, Part 1

    A story by @Simoneheinis.
    (Read in caption)
    ©simoneheinis
    WARNING: Strong themes.
    Image from Google, not owned by @simoneheinis

  • normancrane 61w

    Idyllizer

    On snow, his padded footfalls echo low
    Heart beats: haste, fear
    As none but its reverberations know
    The ancient horror lurking near
    A flash! Before the darkness rushes in
    Not night but something deeper
    Tentacles binding from within
    Swift minions of a speaker
    Whose very voice is sin
    Whispering, listen, listen, in the language of the wind
    Across what remains of summer's leaves
    A murmured knowledge of the fate of thieves
    And as the stolen idol drops
    And the ancient one appears
    His eyes begin to bleed
    Discongealing the accumulation of his fears