Heavy rain pouring outside the apartment, which I noticed later after a few minutes gap. Have you experienced the same, I hope you had?
Many say they hate rainy days, like why? doesn't that seems rubbish just cause it gets roads crammed and blocked then same do the guilt or wound or injuries giving a lot of suffering and discomfort.
It's a tragic time for all of you ( including me), remember you are the richest within your orbit. Your galaxy is your mind, not the right part or left rather the whole little brain embedded from birth to assist and assemble the tragic and roar, together forming numerals of significant meanings in every room of emotions one dealing with at a time.
// roar, an upthrust burdened with assumptions of the audience hunting for the roses without thorns//
Not a lullaby, I am trying to descant neither a love letter but something to deal with before it gets too late. suicidal thoughts stabbing up the subtle heart along with endless sleepless nights stalking the pumping heart and narrating the conclusive qualms of past nights
"And how odd it is to be haunted by someone who's still alive?"
I saw those birds across the hills as I sat in a train from Moscow to Siberia, they flew along the dusty windows as the train passed through a tawny grassland stretched over the golden horizons. Their light wings swayed like kites in the beams of an evening sun. A senior man with a beard like cotton candies on the other side of the seat watched them smiling like a toddler. His hat was stitched with a red cloth and it had a picture of two rabbits sleeping in a bush. The amber pages of a novel fluttered in his lap through the slithering wind in the cabin. His jacket had the colours of a rainbow, and the trousers had countless pockets. The leather suitcase was the heaviest I've seen, as I kept wondering what all things it contains, he laughed and told me; 'see, how marvelous are those birds, they fly untroubled by the past, relishing each others company, carrying nothing but the sunshine on wings'. For a moment, He seemed like a bird among the flock, flying cheerfully towards the silver oaks of the setting sun.
They say pen is mightier than sword, so, it means pen also kills, but does it kills better or kills for the better? How many poems have you written? when someone asks me this, I dont give a number but manage a smile, for my pen knows how to kill with fiery questions and how to heal with compassion, how to ink tales of passion and how to deal with screaming reasons, how to stand in every season and how to rise for every indignation. But still my pen is awaiting for that one new way when it will become the perfect weapon to wipe off tears of starvation, the biting stabs of wrong accusations, the black pain of depression, that day perhaps I will pen my swan song.
One day, not very far in the future We will greet each other Like old friends meeting after a long spell And then we’ll proceed to remain together forever Your comforting arms I long to be in Away from the maddening crowd I understand you even when you silently Around me increasingly create a raven shroud You are the blinding darkness that people Often fear the most in their lives For me you are the solace that one receives After a lifetime of pain and strife In you I hope to lose myself Let go of all my doubts and fears You are the cloak of the night devoid of stars In which soon I hope to one day disappear
I absolutely did not expect this!!! Thank you so much @miraquill ! 1st POD!! @writersnetwork Thank you for your correction and kind repost!! To everyone, thankyou so much for your support!!!
"The Other Side of Me"
They tell me I don't even try to be happy Little do they know I'm trying to find me They said I'm probably fixed on my fantasy They don't know how I struggle on my reality.
Walking on the streets with eyes looking dead Trying to shut every thought inside my head Am I walking on earth or is this the famous hell I've been ambling here like I have my soul to sell.
For years I've been dancing with the darkness I'm the spinner bait to all the helpless Dragging them with me in this wilderness Toxic traits I've gathered, I've become heartless.
I let them believe on what they want to believe I show them my demons like it's how I live Yes, don't get close to me if you'll just leave I'm so tired of the pain of being deceived.
Stop expecting me to change overnight My demons aren't scared of that bright light They're stronger and full of spite Step back or they might bite.
This is me, your so-called good friend You don't even know this scent that could offend Guess befriending strangers became a trend Fine with me, get to know me, try to apprehend.
Come closer, step on these thorns and fires I made Climb these walls of mud and fog, arrows and blade I've buried myself here from being saudade This is my inner world, welcome to my arcade.
When you see me, tell me who you are I might block you and run far I'm done letting someone in my heart I'm done letting someone see my scars.
Am I the person whom they try to portray? I was judged, abused, betrayed and played So, I lived while keeping myself at bay I'm not their predator but their prey.
Can you blame me if I don't try to prove myself anymore? I tried explaining but they don't listen so I no longer bother I made a mask from the skin of my daunted heart It keeps getting stabbed from their words sharp as a dagger
I peeled off the softness and piled it to make it stronger Now, they're scared of me when they're the ones who made me a monster I've broke down, melted to the ground and suffered I killed myself with all the pain I have smothered.
I'm sorry for making this poem much longer I may be silent but I have many thoughts I always ponder Many days and years I tried to recover But I always ended up being sundered.
Am I allowed to speak or even show how I feel I wanna show myself that I have the zeal to heal Are they ready to accept the me I'm about to unveil? Tell me, do I have a chance to show them the real deal?
If they won't like me then I don't care I'm used to them being bad and unfair For them I'm the poison in the air When all I did was hide inside my lair.
A nomad walks alone, whole day on the elysian fields.He is quite busy in chasing flock and performs Shepherds duty to shear all the wooly hairs from the white sheeps. Heaps are collected like harvested cereal straws on the golden wheat lands.Later the Liliputians come to fetch pastel patches,fill their sacks and screensaver of the day obscure into oblivion.
Wild nights!--dazzle-- wild nights!--on
@heartsease this is inspired from your style of writing
(FOREWORD: What's that which touches bodies to leave it paralysed? What's that which drinks the sap of bodies till it stops breathing? What's that we never know when we stumble upon? DEATH:the wise say, stands in the doorway, of every live that has ever lived. I've seen him come and take away voices. But, I never met him. And someday, if I do, I have questions to greet him as we go. How does it feel to meet death? Will the dead ever say?)
HEADE(a)D WEST; AREN'T WE?
Never have I looked you at the eyes, Even when you came to take the wise. Voices that once dwelled with me, Now dwells in your coelom numb and free.
They say, kissing you is everyone's destiny, For, you set a man unleashed in anonymity. //Chasing forevers, passion crashes into you,// Eyelids droop down, out of the blue.
The first time you came, I didn't know your name, A soul taken away, nothing remained the same. Now I know you, your aim, The game, you proclaim.
You bereave hearts, you extract the sap leaving the pulp to grow Daisies upon.
Are you a conduit to the afterworld? Or a choice, mortals daren't unfurl. Or a voice, that sing no lullaby, When mothers leave as an alibi.
Are you the bay, of the ocean called life; Or the ocean, souls in fragile vessels thrive? Are you an abyss, standing on the edge of a cliff; Or a shot-gun that leave ears deaf?
Do you absorb dreams when bodies die? And unleash the soul to let it fly. Above courtyards, where they slept stargazing, Or to catch the clouds, they were chasing.
//Why is everyone headed west; When life here is at its best?// Questions manifold, I've for you, Why do you come and leave out of blue?
Breathing in the morning, I dream of eventide, The time, our elements shall collide. We'll meet for the first and the last, Dissolved in the air, carrying no past.
The cityscape will smirk, holding its citrus aureole high, As we breathe in synchrony, spreading my wings to fly. And then, I shall ask you questions five, //Why do men come, only to leave, And bodies grow,to frost heave? //