islambader - Hello Poetry

I'm dead inside, a hollow vessel of desolation, A soul consumed by the darkness of isolation, The flicker of life extinguished, an empty shell, Lost in the depths of my own personal hell. Emotions once vibrant, now a distant memory, Replaced by a numbness, a chilling apathy, The colors of the world fade to shades of gray, As I navigate this existence, day by day. No longer do I feel the warmth of the sun, Nor do I dance with joy, or laugh with anyone, The echoes of laughter are but a distant sound, As I wander through this life, without being found. The smiles of others pass me by, unseen, For I am locked in a prison, where hope has never been, I wear a mask of normalcy, a facade for the world, But inside, I am but a broken, fragmented swirl. Every beat of my heart is heavy with despair, As I long for someone to release me from this snare, But the chains that bind me are of my own creation, A self-imposed sentence, without liberation. Yet in this darkness, a spark begins to ignite, A flicker of hope, a glimmer of light, For even in the depths of this eternal night, A whisper of life stirs, ready to take flight. I may be dead inside, but the ashes still hold fire, A dormant spirit, waiting to be inspired, I will rise from the ashes, like a phoenix in flight, And reclaim my soul, from the depths of this night. For even in the darkest depths, hope can arise, And though I may be dead inside, I'll find a way to survive, For I am more than the emptiness that dwells within, I am a phoenix, reborn, ready to begin.

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Sep 14, 2023

Sep 14, 2023 at 9:59 AM UTC

islambader

Lost in I

I'm dead inside, a hollow vessel of desolation, A soul consumed by the darkness of isolation, The flicker of life extinguished, an empty shell, Lost in the depths of my own personal hell. Emotions once vibrant, now a distant memory, Replaced by a numbness, a chilling apathy, The colors of the world fade to shades of gray, As I navigate this existence, day by day. No longer do I feel the warmth of the sun, Nor do I dance with joy, or laugh with anyone, The echoes of laughter are but a distant sound, As I wander through this life, without being found. The smiles of others pass me by, unseen, For I am locked in a prison, where hope has never been, I wear a mask of normalcy, a facade for the world, But inside, I am but a broken, fragmented swirl. Every beat of my heart is heavy with despair, As I long for someone to release me from this snare, But the chains that bind me are of my own creation, A self-imposed sentence, without liberation. Yet in this darkness, a spark begins to ignite, A flicker of hope, a glimmer of light, For even in the depths of this eternal night, A whisper of life stirs, ready to take flight. I may be dead inside, but the ashes still hold fire, A dormant spirit, waiting to be inspired, I will rise from the ashes, like a phoenix in flight, And reclaim my soul, from the depths of this night. For even in the darkest depths, hope can arise, And though I may be dead inside, I'll find a way to survive, For I am more than the emptiness that dwells within, I am a phoenix, reborn, ready to begin.

32

You who adore roses, Your beauty outshines their delicate blooms, For in your presence, even the loveliest rose Can only aspire to be as perfect as you. You who adore roses, Your fragrance is sweeter than any flower, For in your embrace, even the softest petal cannot compare to the warmth you bring.

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Sep 14, 2023

Sep 14, 2023 at 9:53 AM UTC

islambader

You Who Adore Roses

You who adore roses, Your beauty outshines their delicate blooms, For in your presence, even the loveliest rose Can only aspire to be as perfect as you. You who adore roses, Your fragrance is sweeter than any flower, For in your embrace, even the softest petal cannot compare to the warmth you bring.

6

In the depths of silence I exist, A voice that falters, a whisper lost, Echoes swallowed by the vast abyss, Nobody can hear me, my truth embossed. I speak, but my words fall on deaf ears, Lost in the void of indifference and fear, My song, a symphony of unheard cries, Lingers in the air, a silent sigh. I yearn to be heard, to break the spell, To shatter the walls that confine me, But my voice remains locked in a lonely cell, Yearning for freedom, craving to be free. I scream in silence, my vocal cords strained, Seeking solace in the winds that blow, But they carry my words, forever unrestrained, To a world that refuses to bestow. Invisible, I wander through crowded streets, My existence blurred, a ghostly haze, I reach out, yearning for someone to meet, But they pass me by, lost in life's maze. I am a whisper in a world of noise, A forgotten verse in the grandest of songs, But deep within, a fire still burns and toys, With the hope that one day, my voice belongs. Nobody can hear me, or so it seems, But still, I persist, I refuse to yield, For even in silence, my spirit teems, With dreams that cannot be concealed. So I'll keep speaking, keep raising my voice, Though it may echo in an empty room, I'll keep singing, for in my heart I rejoice, Knowing my words will find their bloom. For even if nobody can hear me now, In the symphony of life, I'll find my place, And when the world finally takes a bow, My voice will resound, in boundless grace.

0

Sep 14, 2023

Sep 14, 2023 at 9:44 AM UTC

islambader

Lost in my words

In the depths of silence I exist, A voice that falters, a whisper lost, Echoes swallowed by the vast abyss, Nobody can hear me, my truth embossed. I speak, but my words fall on deaf ears, Lost in the void of indifference and fear, My song, a symphony of unheard cries, Lingers in the air, a silent sigh. I yearn to be heard, to break the spell, To shatter the walls that confine me, But my voice remains locked in a lonely cell, Yearning for freedom, craving to be free. I scream in silence, my vocal cords strained, Seeking solace in the winds that blow, But they carry my words, forever unrestrained, To a world that refuses to bestow. Invisible, I wander through crowded streets, My existence blurred, a ghostly haze, I reach out, yearning for someone to meet, But they pass me by, lost in life's maze. I am a whisper in a world of noise, A forgotten verse in the grandest of songs, But deep within, a fire still burns and toys, With the hope that one day, my voice belongs. Nobody can hear me, or so it seems, But still, I persist, I refuse to yield, For even in silence, my spirit teems, With dreams that cannot be concealed. So I'll keep speaking, keep raising my voice, Though it may echo in an empty room, I'll keep singing, for in my heart I rejoice, Knowing my words will find their bloom. For even if nobody can hear me now, In the symphony of life, I'll find my place, And when the world finally takes a bow, My voice will resound, in boundless grace.

36

A bar of an ounce Highly protected They're mesmerizing Shinny little things Worth to die for It will come handy during war And a melted drop can heal How lovely they are And what if it doesnt heal Neither shines What are they protected for

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May 24, 2017

May 24, 2017 at 3:03 AM UTC

islambader

Element 79

A bar of an ounce Highly protected They're mesmerizing Shinny little things Worth to die for It will come handy during war And a melted drop can heal How lovely they are And what if it doesnt heal Neither shines What are they protected for

11

The solid front door remembers the hand that made it - You are the key - and the creak of the universe — it's your sole secret You lean your dreams and future against it. For its sake you endure the woodworms gnawing through your heart the reek of damp the hammering of enemies and relatives. (Long is the absence of light that paints things awake - Long is the presence of paint!) You come home exhausted — from wherever you've been the wind at your side — just as you wished toyed with by traumas. Once he made necklaces from seashells colouring them with his own fairytales once he made friends with strange frogs - and all the while she's watching him from behind the door /from out the window (when she runs to pick him up he will not raise a cry!)

0

Jul 25, 2016

Jul 25, 2016 at 3:23 PM UTC

islambader

Long

The solid front door remembers the hand that made it - You are the key - and the creak of the universe — it's your sole secret You lean your dreams and future against it. For its sake you endure the woodworms gnawing through your heart the reek of damp the hammering of enemies and relatives. (Long is the absence of light that paints things awake - Long is the presence of paint!) You come home exhausted — from wherever you've been the wind at your side — just as you wished toyed with by traumas. Once he made necklaces from seashells colouring them with his own fairytales once he made friends with strange frogs - and all the while she's watching him from behind the door /from out the window (when she runs to pick him up he will not raise a cry!)

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