hungry for ken, happy to pen.

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  • soulo_scribbles 4w

    The color of nostalgia.

    #color #wod @miraquill
    @writersnetwork thanks for the love ❤

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    Untouched layers lay
    Settled Specks of space
    Let it ferment
    Let it age
    Colour speaks the best
    when they're rusty & frail.

    Ginger hinges creak
    Wooden floors squeak
    bronze bowls brushed
    copper quills sloshed
    Ecru epistle etched
    In the inks of fawn.
    Brewing coffee from
    best brown beans
    Pressed between
    lapsed relics of fond.


  • soulo_scribbles 4w

    Scapegoats of the era.
    #tanka #wod @miraquill
    @writersnetwork thanks for the love ❤

    Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a mental health condition that's triggered by a terrifying event — either experiencing it or witnessing it. Symptoms may include flashbacks, nightmares and severe anxiety, as well as uncontrollable thoughts about the event.

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    My love leans to a girl
    My heart sinks for a girl
    My eyes bawl when I know
    everyday, everywhere
    a girl is being overwhelmed.

    Belongs to the rings of young
    Fettered from power and privilege
    Belongs to the gender realm of
    Ignored intonations, breached bodies
    & the touches she twitches reviving PTSD hurl.


  • soulo_scribbles 4w

    Touched by tigress

    Siblings lay proud in pelts
    Rustled steps and cocked guns
    Next preceeding batch of regrets
    Paying homage with roars of revenge
    Lying proud in 6ft cages of casket.


  • soulo_scribbles 4w

    Penny for your thoughts ?
    Coz if you are a rebel,
    Strap in for the ride of life <3
    #travel #wod
    @miraquill thanks for the EC❤
    @writersnetwork thank you for the love❤

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    Unconventional matron from conventional ménage

    The park of parry welcomes you with sweetest lies, forcing smiles.
    To all the hands that recieve bouquet of barbed wires for roses, may I guide.

    A world I built brick by brick for cheap thrills and escapades.
    To flee from our open minds in mundane cries of desperate.

    From the rides that only whirl merry go round.
    To the roller-coasters that never go anywhere down.

    Let us stray afar from the cages of sanguine reality.
    And create a castle in the air studier than our rewarded insanity.


  • soulo_scribbles 4w

    Oh, how i missed writing.

    #once #wod @miraquill @writersnetwork

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    You once told me all I could ever become was a creeper.
    With roots that go rotten and stems which supine.
    You once told me all I could ever ripen into was a climber.
    Bearing leaves of languid and yields that decline.

    And as the harshest floods descend.
    I call for freshly found violet patches of fronds to tend.
    Tasting different flavors of erosion.
    I cleanse my palate with new wounds of exhaustion.

    But a familiar southwest breeze blows on my scars.
    And the scabs turn cuts into strongest barks.
    You rain on me to nip the bud in the nature's name of pruning.
    But with ever chop I turn over a new leaf, for I am the raintree found evolving and curing.


  • soulo_scribbles 6w


    I am painting my night with happy lies.
    Flickering bulbs visioned as starry skies.
    Where peeling walls refer to vogue designs.
    And leaky taps call for asmr lullabies.
    As seasons gift it's harshest weather around.
    nature calls for the homes of disregard.
    A race with lag start against peers that I'm dragged to play along.
    Eating away my time shading mistakes I was never a part of.
    In a world of cut throat that curbs the needy.
    The most deprived of it all being the layer of poverty.
    Among all the given aiding luck, largesse and law the fairest is the master staking it all.
    For this is a happily ever after and I am my own fairy godmother of this recolored Cinderella's blue tale.


  • soulo_scribbles 6w

    //Lionhearted warriors between wind and water//

    Stealthed into the lost lines of bigotry.
    Armed by the tear gas tins of sanity.

    Locks of warping laws wound by the red tapes, released.
    Cold and sweaty spines witnessed the winding black mist in disbelief.

    Blowing the breathed bubbles of ruptures.
    That holds unborn dewdrops of junctures.

    In the hopes of reaching the saplings of posterity.
    They continue braving by the graveyard of kelpie.

    #dewdrop #wod
    @miraquill @writersnetwork

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    lionhearted warriors
    between wind and water

  • soulo_scribbles 6w


    #senses #wod @miraquill @writersnetwork


    a small village.

    showing a casual and cheerful indifference.

    relating to cultivated land or the cultivation of land.

    blow a current of air through (grain) in order to remove the chaff.

    to obtain or try to obtain (something) by begging or persuasion.

    soil area near or surrounding a place.

    a particular way of speaking or using words.

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    Welcome to our humble hamlet

    Measured in length of love and breath of blitheness.
    A hometown hugging habitual agrarian handiwork in finesse.

    Walking under the umbra of agarwood and bellowing bamboo trufs.
    Wafting are the shimmering speckles of saw dust and winnowing chaffs.

    Amidst the faint pitter-patter of liquid sunshine.
    Are bold rhythmic thumping of ripping coconut pine.

    Drenching In the thick scent of petrichor.
    And fish fries are concoction of whiffs tried to schnorr.

    Witnessing evolution of rye from purlieu to plaintain leaves.
    Pleasured in six flavours are parched palates and empty bellies.

    Nourishing grove and cherishing dwellers, ours, is a place in peach.
    In parlance of polite that can touch umpteen hearts welcoming with clasping hands is a village of seed.


  • soulo_scribbles 7w

    Channels of clan

    Beginning years with godspeed.
    Ending them with karaoke soiree.

    Growing green thumbs nutured by papa lores.
    Humbling drill of charity encouraged by mama mores.

    Candlelight charades during power shutdown.
    Favorite faloodas fashioned hand in hand in Lockdown.

    No sunday mornings without father's ginger chai.
    Nor are there noon naps without mother's radio lo-fi.

    Sticking together during worst hardships, in bear hug I baptize.
    Best cheerleaders celebrate my success, in gratitude I cry smile.


  • soulo_scribbles 7w


    Once, when i was young and brave.
    Took to the streets to preach how to behave.
    Secured Neatly folded in four with
    Wild idealism and mild delusions,
    There was justice in my ethics
    Plain innocence in my beliefs.
    As time did swiftly depart
    I grew grey hair and heart
    More aware and apparent of how the world works.
    Less cheerful and hopeful of unrevivable kaput crux.