#melancholic

144 posts
  • petrichorune 2w

    थक जाता हूं अक्सर
    क्या करोगे तुम पूछकर

    इस बयाबान में
    वो सूकून भरी पिहरवा आवाज़ खो सी गयी है कहीं
    ढूंढने में मदद करोगे क्या...

    ©petrichorune

  • arpitha_prashanth 4w

    Looking at the kingdom
    that is now doomed
    By the hands of its queen,
    Who once gracefully ruled
    Hearing a faint melody
    of the days that'll never return
    The queen is now melancholic,
    Watching her kingdom burn
    ©arpitha_prashanth

  • the_euphoric_writer 5w

    To the Heaven's Gates

    I hold a few things dear.
    A morning cup of coffee.
    A gentle stroke of the cool breeze on a windy day.
    The first few drops of the soothing rain.
    The first shining ray of the morning sun.
    But nothing there is that can compensate,
    The joy I feel,
    The breathe you take,
    When you hold my hand in yours,
    And you look through my heart and say,
    I will wait for you,
    With open arms and hopeful eyes,
    To commence our journey,
    To the heaven's gates.

    I hold a few things dear.
    The empty roads of the afternoon calm.
    The chaotic rush of the evening slump.
    The dreary eyes of a tired day.
    The melancholy of the broken ones.
    Sunset kisses the ocean recieves.
    A quiet night the stars had sung.
    But nothing there is will ever see,
    The beauty beholds your thoughts so young.
    My heart will ever be so sane,
    The way you hold my hand in yours,
    And you look through my heart and say,
    I will wait for you,
    With open arms and hopeful eyes,
    To commence our journey,
    To the heaven's gates.

    I hold a few things dear.
    A solemn touch through the anxious breaths.
    A gentle whisper of comfort.
    A friend being there in my lonely sleep.
    The burning desire to smile and love.
    The ink that blends through the stroke of a pen.
    The world that's grey through a poet's lens.
    But nothing there is can ever know,
    The world gets bright through the aura you lent.
    The way you hold me in my sleep,
    I feel so touched and I weep,
    In my heart and I let it sway,
    'Cause I know you'll wait for me,
    With open arms and hopeful eyes,
    And we'll commence our journey,
    To the heaven's gates.

    ©the_euphoric_writer

  • eternalfate 9w

    A Widow's Fate

    Draped in darkness
    Ankle deep,
    Walking forward
    does not weep,
    Just moaning in silence.

    Cracked open,
    Split apart,
    Condolences that burn the heart
    She walks to her armoire

    Opened closets,
    Like opened faucets,
    Spill her garments to the ground,
    Yet all she sees are scraps and strips
    No stiches, just a rip,
    And freezes in the cold.

    Cannot falter,
    Cannot fear,
    For enemies draw near.
    She Rises up and gathers round,
    Her sanity that runs abound

    For tis a Widow's Fate,
    To done her 'ments like armour
    To steel her nerves and bear the weight
    Of the hand that has gone cold.

    Brushing powder,
    Seal the cracks
    Lest the sorrow bleed out.

    Not a whisper,
    Not one weep
    Her soul, though, was screaming loud

    For tis a Widow's Fate,
    To walk alone in darkness
    Across the hall,
    Standing tall
    To the portrait of his likeness.


    Crushing petals,
    Shattered vase
    A perfect mask covered her face
    As they read the final rites.

    Not a tear,
    Barren eyes,
    A dress too worn to wear
    Spewing lies
    I visualise,
    To hide her pain that's all too clear

    "I'm fine, just tired"
    Such lies her lips sired
    Yet the morning after,
    The kitchen full of laughter,
    Was nowhere to be seen.

    Reading,
    Writing,
    Nothing worked,
    And hence all the pain she shirked,
    Came crashing down.

    For tis a Widow's Fate,
    To suffer in silence
    As she buries the love,
    The treasure trove,
    The joy of her life!
    And goes back home
    To the catacombs of sorrow.

    One final time she tries,
    To block the tears from flowing.

    Her will to live falling weak
    Only holding by a thread,
    Pain and sorrow slicing deep.
    She fights again,
    She tries to keep
    And push her feelings down,
    Yet tis a poor widow's fate,
    In misery to drown.

    And hence the widow,
    Silently,
    Walks home,
    Judgementally,
    Stared at by her own mind,
    Walks into her room.

    .

    A scream so deadly, dark and deep
    Broke apart her calm and keep.
    The voices she feared to hear,
    Broke out in a cacophony,
    For she had died the very day,
    Her dreams made her a widow.
    And tis every widow's fate,
    To weep beneath the willow,
    And never stop.
    ©eternalfate

  • telestic_typewriter 17w

    Inner Demons

    I crossed gazillions of ocean,

    only to meet your inner demons.

    Demons that were shadows,

    of the dreams you left behind...

    Priti Das
    ©telestic_typewriter

  • telestic_typewriter 22w

    B-R-O-K-E-N

    Bored of the routine
    Ready to leave with a bang
    Omitting herself from the world
    Killing her slowly inside
    Earning a spot against the stars
    Nothing ever nattered anyway

    Fix me, she begged
    Ignored and left behind
    X-shaped slashes on her arms
    Marked by the devil
    Everyday, she tries to hold on

    Priti Das

  • anirockz7 32w

    Melody will arrive, have patience��

    #phases #melancholic #tune #melody

    Read More

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  • philopsyche 47w

    Over Do

    I over talk and open up too much.
    I over do things and give away too many details.
    It happens when I find a connection.
    I talk irrespective of her interest.
    I rarely find someone to share with.
    I have so much to share.
    The next moment it gets awkward.
    Either of us get hurt.
    It feels great to talk with someone.
    If you talk with the right kind.
    It feels awkward and guilty to talk with someone.
    If you talk with anyone who comes across.
    I haven't found the right one yet.

    ©philopsyche

  • ray_madhusmita 47w

    in this clamorous earth..
    felicity and festivals galore..
    in the dense forest..
    amidst thick darkness..
    a melancholic cry more deeper..
    the scene on the screen..
    changes tout de suite..
    no matter how hard..
    the blanket of happiness..
    is wrapped..
    the kiss of pain..
    must be found..
    ©ray_madhusmita

  • writeweird 47w

    not many people are interested in what I write, not for the fact that they don't know me, but because they do not understand.

    @mirakee #hurt #melancholic #winter
    #pain #love #alone #dark #cold #lonely
    #life #black #abstract #misc #other #india
    #new #follow #read #poem #poetry #weird

    Read More

    just know that you'll never find eternal happiness

    and as a child
    did you ever live in grief ?

    for it kills
    slowly, and you live
    for long

    how far before
    you speak,

    for you'll never
    reach where you think
    you belong

    and if you die
    today --

    how old do you
    think you truly are

    have you lived enough
    to know what it means
    to be gone ?

    of all that you know
    and of who you know

    have you ever known
    that brings a song and storm

    or have they left you
    in heavy air,

    in seething despair

    found in dusk,
    a moment away from
    becoming an ocean --

    how long were you
    drowning for

    before you realised
    nothing else was ever true ?

    ©writeweird

  • writeweird 49w

    how empty should i be

    mangled shapes rot in inconceivable designs,
    stretching and screaming, charred and
    barely existing --

    there's this demon chasing me
    inside my mind,
    and i can't stand still for it'll
    swallow me whole,

    as i await my despair,
    creeping from behind --

    i want to run but there is
    no road,

    i want to choke on my
    own filth and perish,

    but there's something far more
    sinister than the looming nothingness
    that's made a home deep inside
    of me,

    that won't let me leave --

    like the rusting autumn
    melting into the rustic winter

    the grey weather and the
    cold rain,

    i must paint myself
    of all things i deny,

    as they peer at me from
    my own eyes,

    i know there's something lacking
    that i cannot explain --

    always watching me,
    even when i'm asleep

    even when i've locked
    all doors,

    disappearing as it has
    lived

    leaving me with dread that
    i cannot contain --

    and there's no silence to
    this calm,

    no violence to mark what
    remains,

    all there is, is a caricature of
    nature, a forest that's too naked
    and yet so dense that one
    can barely breathe,

    a barren land that's filled
    with corpses and the dying,

    mumbling, shrieking, expanding
    into the cosmic nightmare

    consuming whatever's left
    of the morbid melancholia,

    mixing into the dusk and poisoning
    the dawn --

    spiralling down the stairs
    with me as i fall

    walking with me as i crawl,

    and smiling;

    always smiling.




    ©writeweird

  • writeweird 49w

    in her sleepy frost

    dreaming,

    she sits by the cogs, turning
    fog into mist --

    in midst of an autumn, caught in
    arms of abyss,

    in the sleepy frost, where the
    winter sits,

    where the wilderness clots
    in melancholic conflict

    hung by the clocks, and rocks,
    in bones, and sticks,

    an ocean's worth of rot, no
    mortal can sip;

    in her drowsy gaze, in her
    dreamy drift,

    she sits in her loss,
    lost in her solemn bliss,

    screaming.


    ©writeweird

  • ankita_66 57w

    Holding my head

    I am holding my head. Trying to console my heart.
    Little by little all edges of my insanity is tearing me apart.
    I am talking to people, talking to friends, talking, just to not let my soul cave in.
    I am tired and i am panicked.
    I have reached my own hell.
    Burning hellfire of my own making. Scorching me alive. Choking me and not letting me be.
    I am holding my head. Trying to stay alive.
    Getting worse every hour of every night.
    Tonight i simply do not want to be.
    Not a sister. Not a daughter.
    Not a lover. Not a friend.
    Tonight i just don't want my heavy head.
    Not these heavy shoulders.
    Carrying my rotten heart,
    And my dying wrecked soul.
    ©ankita_66

  • devdevil 57w

    In all those melancholic moments, I used to sit peacefully in a fine corner of nature and she makes me feel like nothing has happened. And then suddenly I think about all those aesthetic pleasures life has gifted me and that makes me feel so contented.
    ©devdevil

  • theink_orlaraven 60w

    Hilang arah
    Sepertinya aku sedang melangkah pergi
    Namun hatiku tertinggal bersama cebisan rindu yang bertaburan

    Ke langit biru
    Sepertinya aku sedang terbang bersama sayap yang melebar
    Merentas angin melupakanmu
    Namun baru ku sedar...sebelah sayapku tertinggal di situ

    ©theink_orlaraven

  • jhunax 60w

    Lone Wolf

    It hurts, it hurts
    To know that no one,
    Will help,
    Will support,
    Will need me,
    Will love me.

    It really hurts,
    To try so hard,
    Just to impress,
    Just to bond,
    Just to please,
    Just to love.

    For all those things,
    Are hard to either,
    Give it or attain it,
    That is why,
    A Lone Wolf's life.
    Is a life I want to live.
    ©jhunax

  • yatharth_singh_chauhan 62w

    Our Little Secret

    He had turned into someone else after our marriage. I can't describe how much he liked me screaming, every night.
    He, sadistically, used to call it our little secret. Accordingly, I had swallowed my dignity.
    That day, I had asked him to close the window. They say that he had stumbled upon something. But I know how bad I wanted to see if he can scream just like me.
    Actually, he did. Now, it's our little secret.
    ©yatharth_singh_chauhan

  • writeweird 62w

    i don't mince words, i confuse them. i don't remember faces, or whispers -- i don't even remember who i was or what i am. All i can think about is sadness, and all i have saved inside of me are memories i cannot define. so, i ask myself on a lonely Tuesday -- what's the point ?


    #dark #sad #night #stars
    #mental #blues #pod #read #gloom
    #misc #other #hurt #pain #melancholic
    @mirakee @readwriteunite #mirakee
    #writer #india #jammu #kashmir

    Read More

    i fxcking hate it here

    people live inside me
    and they talk

    i close my eyes
    so they don't find me

    but it's just me
    in this box

    i don't know where
    to hide me

    for they hear
    my every thought

    and i don't think
    they like me

    if i get too close
    they bite me

    i don't know how
    to fight me

    can you make
    it stop ?

    kill me


    ©writeweird

  • melancholicmasterpiece 66w

    LOVED AND LOST

    "Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."
    - Alfred Lord Tennyson

    This is it.
    A moment that will decide the future.
    Breathe.
    Breathe. You feel your hands shake.
    "Will you marry me?"

    "I knew you were going to ask"

    She smiles..
    A pounding in your chest as you look into her eyes -

    And they don't smile back.
    "I. I don't -"
    A dagger at your heart
    "- I don't."
    She starts to cry.


    "I don't love you anymore."
    As the pain starts to spread.
    And the fire dies in your heart
    You look back, without a word
    As the tears begin to fall.


    ©melancholicmasterpiece

  • sapio_before_lust 66w

    ওপারে

    গভীর রাতের কবরখানায়
    এক শব অপর সমাধির উদ্দেশ্যে বলে,
    জগতে কিসের পিছু ডাকে?
    উত্তরে সে বলে, যার ভূল এর জন্য আমি নিজে দণ্ডিত।
    "ফিরতে মন চায়"? ---না, সেও বোধহয় রওনা দিয়েছে,
    এই এলো বলে।
    ক্ষণিকের মধ্যে ভূগর্ভে প্রবেশ করলো এক নয়া সদস্যা,
    বক্তার মুখে তৃপ্তির হাসি।
    দুজন লেগে গেলো অভিনন্দন-স্বীকারোক্তি তে,
    অন্যজন হয়ে গেলো আবার একা।
    হয়ত বা সেও কারোর অপেক্ষায়।
    ©sapio_before_lust