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trisha-adelia
trisha-adelia
Life is basically a poem that needs to be written. So here I am, learning, writing, and enjoying poems. Writing and reading when it's raining outside are my favorite things.
The spark of passion ignites the heart, until it is engulfed in a conflagration of notions, as curiosity triumphs over caution. The seed of wisdom, planted in fields of knowledge, is cultivated and refined in kingdoms of intellect to innovate speeches of freedom. Blisters in sweaty palms, rubbing against the pen, as it drifts between the paths of future and past, where hope is met and joy is felt. Consumed by epiphanies, the heart-beat is felt by trembling hands, squeezing the pen for inspiration, to bewilder imaginations, giving birth to new perceptions.
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Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 8:51 AM UTC
CREATION
There was a boy who had a dream to own the universe. His eyes were dark as the night, his voice was deep as the ocean, his heart was cold as ice. There was a girl who had a dream to be the part of the universe. Her eyes were green as the leaves on Spring, her voice was soft as a lullaby, her heart was warm as a sweater. They both finally met in a fate. "I want to own this universe!" Screamed The Boy, one day. "Why would you?" Asked the girl politely. "To fill my emptiness and fulfill my wants" The girl smiled and chuckled to hear The Boy's explanation. "Why did you laugh at me?" "The Universe is not outside of you...," The Girl pointed at The Boy's heart. "... Look inside yourself; everything that you want, you already are." The Boy was speechless and amazed by The Girl. Both of them were staring and looked into each other's eyes. The dark eyes found its light on the enchanted green of her eyes. "You are the part of me too, then." "I am."
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Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 7:30 AM UTC
The Universe
An old woman was seeing a lilac sky She was frightened to say goodbye "O, freedom! My only freedom! Will the fire and bombs end my sorrow?" What was the use to hold living for tomorrow? When all you can see was an ashes and scattered bones An old woman was being slaughtered She lost her family and hopes Was it because they were Jews? So that it's their right to make the world new? Free from Jews? As if Jews were roach It was forbidden for them to be approached And now A giant smoke puffs in Palestine Thousands people burn to death Children, old people scream in despair But no one will say if it's unfair Is it because the land that is occupied? Or whatsover so they have to die? Do you have mom? Is it hurt to see her cry? Do you have love? Is it hurt to see they bleeding then say goodbye? When will the war ends? When will all human races have a soul? Or will it always be just a rhetorical question?
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Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 1:56 AM UTC
A War