Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kellonor Mar 21
Walking down this long, empty street,
littered with dried leaves and scattered pebbles,
crashing waves, their echoes trailing on the shore.
The color blue pulls your gaze away
from cracked asphalt to a valley of dandelions.

They say this flower means hope,
a symbol of healing and resilience.
Surely, that's what you need right now
to hold strength in your heart,
to overcome,
to live out every little boy’s dream
of becoming strong to help others.

Sunlight drifts through the kitchen window,
the sea breeze stirs the curtain
into an ethereal dance.
The scent of homecooked fish fills the room,
and on the balcony,
you feel the warm press of the sun on your skin.
A moment so perfect
you want to return to it every time.

Now, you lace up your shoes,
pull on a worn t-shirt,
and step back onto the empty road.
You don’t know where it leads
but maybe that’s the point.
The scorching asphalt warps the air,
figures sway in the distance,
a trick of the heat,
a Mirage.

Still, you trudge on
until the light of dusk
finally fades.
Written from memories of a summer day in Greece
Kellonor Mar 13
Reaching the end is no simple thing,
you need strength of body and a soul ready to give it all.
It’s not about dark feelings of the mind,
nor the friendly souls supporting you or not.
It falls on you to be prepared for everything.

It doesn’t have to be a lonesome road, though.
You find all kinds of people in your life
just follow the hum, the silent thread that connects
this world with the realm of bravery and grit,
and embrace the melody of reconciliation.

I’ve fought those shadows long enough.
It’s time to poise myself and fight back.
Be it the dark sickness or an ailment of the mind,
I will triumph over this and renew my world
for my soul is tempered, my body unshaken.

I rise anew, my world reborn.
Written as my metamorphosis nears completion
Kellonor Mar 10
I let the light fade away,
to chase an unattainable dream.
My thoughts assail the blistering glow,
a silent echo of what I know.

I wander the endless fields of lore,
never looking back, nor doubting more.
For I have embraced my truth at last,
and paid the price for sins long past.

Now, this once empty shell stirs to life again,
clinging to old habits, reliving the past.
Only time will tell if my penance was in vain,
or if redemption still lingers beyond the veil.
Written when it was too late already
Kellonor Mar 10
In this boundless world, I have known only you,
You were there with every breath I took,
To shelter my heart, to kindle my hope,
That one day, this merciless suffering will be gone.

Above the sky, a Giant Turtle drifts through the air,
Ancient and wise, it holds countless tales to tell.
For millennia, it has sailed the sea of clouds,
Never once pausing, never once looking below.

Each whisper of wind has carried me here,
To a bed of yellow flowers beneath the Great Oak.
The story speaks of one who once stood there
The one who once brought joy and love to this world.
Written while cloud gazing the sky in my hometown.
Kellonor Mar 6
The Calm Sea

When Magda died, all barriers broke.
No depression, no sorrow, just stillness.

Like the calmest sea, flat and dark,
stretching beyond sight.
I existed in my purest form, MYSELF.
No borrowed traits, no learned habits.
Just being.

Sometimes I envy that state,
but I know not to linger too long in it.

I only acted, every word, every motion,
a performance for the world.
Like a machine, programmed to react,
empty of meaning, void of self.

When something new arrived,
it never truly touched me.
Just a passing flicker in short-term memory.

I drifted further,
speaking less, withdrawing more,
except to the few who still reached me.

Then, the ripples came.
Subtle at first, but they grew,
stirring the abyss, reshaping me.

I gathered fragments of the past,
blending them with the present,
constructing a new SELF,
wiser, changed.

I struggle to recall what came next.
What did I feel beyond the void?
Only that I found love again—
deeper, truer.

It grounds me. It holds me safe.
Now, standing at the edge once more,
I wonder what memories will resurface.

This is not a will,
nor a testament.
Just words adrift,
like autumn leaves, restless in this October wind.

Left for the reader to unravel,
to find meaning or glimpse
into the corridors of my mind,
a reflection of this fleeting moment.

A glimpse into a mind meeting mortality,
facing fragility once again.

I do not yet know how I will bear it.
The womb that gives life,
that nurtures, shelters, loves unconditionally
how can I fathom its absence?

I understand now..
some beings never leave us,
we carry them always.

Yet in the fleeting moment of loss,
the weight feels unbearable.
An internal big bang
a collapse into that quiet sea once more.

One day, I will face my own mortality.
Soon, or in the distant unknown.
I fear it,
but I long for it too.
The beauty of nothingness calls to me,
whispering in the hush of the tide.
And sometimes,
I listen.
Written in a time when I dwelled in a dark corner.
Kellonor Mar 6
The Dark Ailment

The day came when silence consumed my mind.
My mouth no longer had the strength
to speak the thoughts that haunted me,
keeping sleep far from my grasp.

I left behind the warmth that once made me feel safe
and wandered into unknown paths
where flowers bloom all year round,
where the scent of the sea follows you wherever you go.

Where once, a small child took its first steps,
hoping to find a friend.

But the day came when everything was erased,
and a violent new beginning was forced upon the world.
The child had no friends
and was driven back into the loneliness of solitude.

The sea fell silent.
Its scent no longer carried memories
memories of your mother unwrapping your lunch,
saying:
"Come, eat something, Giorgos.
Don’t go into the water just yet, you’ll sink."

Just as the universe itself sank into darkness.
The flowers vanished.
No one felt safe anymore.

No one sleeps now.
Dreams have turned into waking nightmares,
lurking in every mind
that has chosen to remain silent.

It feels like something is eating you
from the inside out,
slowly,
until it’s too late.

There are no sensations.
No dreams.
And nowhere left to go
except for the few steps
this sickness still allows you to take.
Written while i was possessed by a lingering shadow.

— The End —