love is the last supper to my bones, festooned with uncanny cataclysm and silver lining of misery. beds, rooms, living area everything empty. once a family, now in just memories. those claws that get me wildflowers, fins and pearls, paws get me signs of first rain - first snow, wings with maples and songs of my cinnamon roll, all left me alone.
settling down after a short panic attack, / not paws or claws to hold me tight /
trapped midst unknown syllables, / no fins surround me anymore /
not any receptor accepts my proposal of speech, as my vocal cords do the bare minimum, / as my lovebird would make me speak, left me /
I lift up the wildflowers, crushing and pouring ink to write. trembling hands, write those names, as at the end of every name of my sweet pet, comes a tear.
as antiscians visit me for every eclipse, clutching onto my gown as good old days, just as lightning strikes on my window pane and snowstorm goes calm, they leave. as this short visit of my beloved by noctiphany, helps me stall my last breath.
to meet them on the other side, I wish, memories last long, thence, I thought that love would last for ever, I was wrong.
- Aurelia - Her eyes look like unheard stories shaping clay moulds into archaic symbols of greek sculpture. Ferns adore her art, like poems adore her hand. Hooded ancient scribbler notes down this wholesome tragedy of her beauty, fading into stardust, on every full moon; as she kneads the raw heart full of thaws, to give a coarse tone to her soft armature made of delicate metaphors aligned. Lifeless sculpture breathes through her charms and breaks into tears in her arms as she quietly hugs it while sobbing.
- Love - The rain is falling into the lap of mother, her eyes holding onto the dead child, as she surrenders the universe and offers it as homage to the holy trinity. Her fingertips still caressing the child's hair, pouring life into the scalp and skull. Soon awakens the child in heaven to find, an old man awaiting by the olive tree in their very own backyard, holding a box full of truffles and honey. While he leaves for the truffles, her arms fall down, she lays on the ground, by drawing life from every cell of her body into her eyes, to capture her child jumping with joy. She offers herself.
- Xenon - Two lovers found two roads, one road allows only one person to travel. Ephemeral, burdensome, decision making time arrives as they borrow another hour from heaven to stay together. Like wallflowers with wanderlust, following a pitiful fate to rhyme a melody before departing, the xenon undresses his pathetic form and devotes himself to the pure bliss called love.
- Old lavender - Your smile is a lie as the corners of your lips twitch with the tears rolling down from the canthus of your eye. You smile is real when you leave the old pages and old books in the cellar to find a new book from the unusual store called life to renew your writing skills and better adding more paintings if words could not describe the little descriptions of your routine.
- Noah - When flowers bloom, the selene in mufti inspects the ruins after war, encounters the river. Crestfallen moon dips into brook, as it's shine brings the dead river back to life. Butterflies flutter their wings pouring some pollen over the soil where water meets. Elegant embodiment of forgiveness takes birth after destruction.
// dauntless sepia descends - where if love stops to lead, hope takes over. //
// sublime bohemian pastels fly when - galahad sojourn in mapletown transcends to sleek path of mercy through music. //
// warm ambers in frost reign - as silver sword of the fierce valkyrie chops the sunshine to scatter peace in all the nine realms. //
// rosewood turns to papers - if bones are powdered to make pearly ink, as tears of heart form words. //
// saccharine shines - when pain disguises in poetry but cyanotic effect of pain doesn't subside. //
// mustard succumbs - cathedral swings in night stars, carols refuse to stop, candles lit to send sign to the alpha and omega of universe. //
// beiges add to walls - as burnt roses slip into thin air, flee towards west, leftover ashes of thorns still pierce into soles of feet, results in phantom limb. //
// ascian nebula refers to - lost souls resting in gray to reform stablility in anything by stumbling over in arcades of lemons, as cicadas trail over their capes while they silently disappear into shadows. //
#metaphor(not actually) #wod#ceesreposts @writersnetwork@miraquill Thanks for the ❤ Happy reading ❤ Could not digest ❤ Thanks a lot @miraquill for the repost My 1st POD ❤❤i am honoured This was unexpected 1 liners are my love❤ i dedicate this to my 1 liners Thanks to all my fellow writers for ur kind support, repost and the comments ❤