Hello... Recently i am writing stories on Wattpad... If u have pls check it out :-
It's called Fem♡Tom
mathilde
~but you have always been good enough, you've just been giving your best parts of you to the wrong people♥️
-
mathilde 1w
-
Let the lines flood in the brain,
'Tis flowy cruor
Carves out the rest ~~ -
mathilde 4w
Waiting in the abyss
I can never rewrite what happened,
Nor can ever grow the shrub of happiness,
In the dark abyss i lie,
Watching others bid goodbye...
It's colourless,
Timeless, invisible to the naked eye,
It is called the feelings
That sometimes are numbed in my mind...
The seamless moon glowing in the night sky,
Hidden back in the twilight zone,
Should I be happy or sad ?
because i was the chosen one ?
Happiness and bliss were now dead children,
Sleeping forever felt like a dream.
Now i lay in the bed of thorn,
Waiting for my life to be taken away by the gream... -
mathilde 8w
Them :~
She stared at his Polaroid,
Blind to the nerves,
Could never meet him,
But the love preserves...
Her heart is fleeing every night,
Every morning, evening and noon,
It reaches to the place where he stays,
But he still never knew...
Unspoken words,
With unspoken feelings,
All are tied around inside her head,
With numbness in feelings...
The day she saw him,
Her heart got smitten,
She is waiting for him,
And let their story be rewritten... -
mathilde 8w
#mundane #wod #life #nature #deadofnight @miraquill @writersnetwork
AYYY WAT'S HAPPENING ... I am back ... With a little thingy{{Crepuscule}}
The scenarios up my head,
Sometimes black; sometimes pink,
Sometimes red with specks of golden dust...
Walking past this wholesome breeze,
Moon reflecting it's grey white countenance,
On the sparkling flowing cold loch...
The wrinkled up dead pressed tree,
Depicts the entire lifetime of that one person,
With unforgotten, forged and mundane lacone soul...
The day ends with the horribly beautiful dead of night,
The sudden dreams starts to reappear,
This day's existence ... Is just mundane ...
©mathilde -
mathilde 11w
I am nothing; but a mere pen
I am like a pin,
Stitch poems from within;
Sometimes called mightier than a sword,
'cause i have a beast within me...
I am poised,
Like the lady by the lake;
I craft my own creation,
And leave marks behind every recreation...
Writing little proses,
Spreading the ink over the folds of the crumbled page;
Move to and fro on the dead pressed tree,
'Tis is thy rage...
Evolving from a feather,
I saw history ; I made history,
The writers who died kept on writing their mystery...
The thoughts might not last,
So I carve them on the page,
In the momentary secrets i drown,
Writing the poem from the ink of my cage...
©mathilde -
The knot
Remember the times ,
When we shared the string telephone,
To just listen to the random voices
Of each other ?
It was a great distance,
Between us and our houses,
So we grabbed the three foot string,
And started talking to each other.
Time passed,
Our hearts connected,
But you left one day,
And we never communicated.
The string through which we spoke folklore,
My heart going all galore,
In the flow i forgot,
How that string telephone ;
Tied our knot.
©mathilde -
mathilde 13w
... why ?
-
Ma
She is the goddess,
She is the queen,
She is the protector,
She is my dream.
Safely tied in her womb,
She fixes my broken wings,
She did quite a lot,
But I couldn't thank her enough.
All i can say that she is the warrior,
To have no fear not any terror,
All i can say that a thank u is not enough,
The she in this poem is no one other than you mom ...
©mathilde -
What should I write on February ... ? I am a single Pringle chips.. Nothing romantic happened to me that I can write on the month of Love
-
childauthor_345 19w
Beauty is a moment before she blinks .
Remember remember
The blank pages scribbled in fairness of white
Beneath twilight's veil and moon's slumber
Unbiased metaphors they drip and I hold rubatosis bright .
~ sitting on a swing of memories . -
childauthor_345 19w
I clinched all flight just with a sprint, to you ,
Charming #consonance is comrade to blue too ,
To roam between lavenders , I need cynosure view
And tint a hint to print warmness in temperate winter .Zylith nature respond , how to grow wildflowers !
Terrific terrains trodden, are tremendous
In gathering gloom , in igloos , in bunglows
Gullible impala unbalanced in fuss and muss
Doesn't Let scarlet travel in octelle whilst lows
Light flows following lustrous lighthouse
But the ubiquitous mist stamps timely to retina
Black boundries abounding become ablaze by bouse
In vain , If sky shall sprinkle silver , nomad grasps grey in Savannah .
Remedy is ready , so deviate abundant darkness
By awaiting warehouse , whisper whistles as whimsical wordsmith
Wizard hope is miraculous , it grows as a wildflower at your address
Not to become a weed blooming in your garden but to make you , a monolith .
~ sleek island's ablaze loneliness whilst a selenophilic crowd -
fromwitchpen 23w
Roses of refreshing candour
Its all roses, till thine poems feart of prickles.
©fromwitchpen -
autumn_fairy 23w
#oxymoron
#crimsondiaries
#wod
@miraquill @writersnetwork @pink_berry @rish_jee @extreme_case
Red velvet coat dissolving away signifies that
The person who fell for the maiden, his love is fading away due to her mistakes.
❤
Just entered this into the caption late
Cause its the most important part one should understand.Crimson Diaries -1
Speak silence
Through cold fire2021. 12 .4.
Dear one who left me,
I'm a maiden
In the light of your shades
In the cavern of your lit glimmering lamps
As I wore my coat of darkness
Just to cover myself away from my misery
The night curtained sky of melancholy
Which always spoke to me
Sitting beside my bed
Brushing against my body
As I screamed in pain
For days and nights
My eyes spoke silence
Of unhidden words
Dancing in my heart
Having the urge to open my wooden doors
Of my heart
But I always slammed them shut
From the metal lock
Of my eyes
Which flowed down my cheeks
And reached my chest of cottons
Which I hid inside a blanket
Of oxymorons
Bleeding endlessly
I
s p o k e
Words of rude hearted inkings
Ready to shed your heart
But never knew
You'd be this hurt
Within changes of my
C o l d f i r e
I ripped you
And now
You want
A clock
Of t i m e
To get healed
Within ages
And now
I sit
On my bed
Your lit cavern of lamps
Are slowly fading away
Your red velvet coat
You gave me
Is slowly dissolving away
As I
See the misery coat
Slowly engulfing me
In psychopathetic laughs
Telling me to not wait for your return
As you may
N e v e r r e t u r n
But here I am
Looking through the windows of
D e s t i n y
Like a fool in the translucent nights
Waiting for my
Mistakes
To h e a l
Cause I do deserve this
P a i n
Afterall...
©telepathy123 -
fromwitchpen 24w
READ THIS ON YOUR OWN RISK.
I wrote this to spread awareness not for any sexual reason .
no offense. If you don't like this don't read .Homosapiens a joke –KENSHO
Oh' girl when you drool at me
with your blue eyes, I curse you,
you eye-rape my body beneath
my sark and when I walk close
to you, your eyes turn red with
the fragrance I respire, your lips
bleed with desire and I see how
your sight roam around my
physique halting at the inseam
of my jeans— and at that time
I think to ask you
'Don't you hath a bruvver or
begetter in your home?'
You whisper in my ear–
don't cry baby . As if you think
I'm made of stones. One by
one you nibble my thighs I
ask for liberation you growl
with fornication, and when the
dewdrops scoosh on my room's
floor I see blood , I take myself
as a murderer of thy dignity
You then turn into a
pseudofeminist, you
oftentimes abuse or arouse
those guys out there cause
girls like you are deceptive
and have no shame
feel the chagri' you incuplate
me in courts and towns
I'm not ashamed to say that
I, A Man was raped by a woman
•—•
Oh' Boy you blame me for
wearing clothes short, I see
your evil smile when I run away
from your wrath and then when
you thaw an iron rod then to fill
my ribcage with black butterflies
you say my breasts are impressive
and needed a knead and I descry
that gaze of lust at me, I beg for
a way out you abut my back I froze
you wickedly grind your body
with mine at that time I ask
'Think if thy sister is at my place'
rage caught in your veins and
you thwack my flesh as of
punishing your own self for being
a low man but you quench your
thirst leaving me bare in the
vale of barbarism. And it don't
make me stop to laugh at
you and smile as I call myself
'A warrior who ended the war
with the bravery she suspire'
•—•
Oh Homosapiens'
We look at you and thine way
of living, thou are the noblest
of all the creation then why
the walls sigh looking how
love demise and lascivious
acts govern its cries. We see
very few of you are noble and
a huge amount are barking as
astray dogs where autumn
exsanguinate expressions
unsaid
Those humans hearts you
eat and the flesh you crave
for –
we the nature is naked of all
the clothes but we respect
each other a thousand time
more than you.
©fromwitchpen -
miraquill 25w
Dreams
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
-Langston Hughes
--Today, write a short poem using one of the metaphors listed below--
1. A laugh in the sea of sadness
2. The noise is music to his ears
3. Love is a growing garland
4. Life is a barren field frozen with snow
5. A light in the sea of darkness
Tag with #metaphor and share.
#wodMetaphor
Comment below the metaphor you are using!
-
MY FRAGILE FLOWERS
I penned a fabulous poem on flower,
Carefully saved in my diary forever,
I never knew,my poem was so fragile,
Oh! My long lost diary inbetween a heap, I pulled it agile,
Only to find withered petal of words,
That once opened flew away like birds.
©meenalochani -
chief_priest 29w
...
My hoodlum lover once said:
There's something special about me
My heart is made of glass
You trespass and break it,
I'd take a large chunk,
Look you in the eyes,
And stab you to death.
©chief_priest -
miraquill 28w
The big sycamore
by the creek was gone.
The willow tangle was gone.
The little enclave of untrodden bluegrass was gone.
The clump of dogwood
on the little rise across the
creek-now that, too, was gone.
Epistrophe is a figure of speech in which one or more words repeat at the end of successive phrases, clauses, or sentences. It is a simple and effective way to emphasize an idea and communicate urgency or emotion.
--Today, write a poem or quote using epistrophe.--
Tag with #epistrophe and share.
#wodEpistrophe
Try this interesting challenge!
