Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Was just after four in the morning
and a full moon sails across the sky

So after falling asleep upon my bed
And not long after closing my eyes

I'm pulled to a distant faraway land
made of laughter and made of smiles

So I went to a fantastic fashion show
and sat amongst my butterfly friends

Music began to play serenely smooth
Musical note clouds floating in the sky

O'  a honeybee asks to dance with me
With me, and I couldn't help but sigh
We're so sure
Concerning births,
With one hundred billion
Born on Earth
Since chaos turned to form;
There's fourteen times more people dead
To the eight billion this time round.
And yet,
I can't conceive
The finality of death.
The equation's misconstrued:
Of all the numbers
Come and gone,
I count mine,
Not yours.
No transmigration, reincarnation, elevation, ascensions, etc. Just death.
When you walk a thousand mile
You can rest or pause for a while
But never surrender to show
You will go and continue to grow

Sing your song to them all
Keep your faith when you fall
Stand and start over again
Reflect every now and then

This world would be unfair to you
Keep the good things that you do
Learn to adjust to the tests
Just be yourself and do your best

Never give up,  never stop
Keep climbing and make it to the top
Just keep the faith and do not fear
The right time for you is coming near
Assessment day.  Four out of twelve passed the test because of a sudden change in the standard.  We will never give up.
I had a dream about you. Gentle grunts pushed out of your lips as my hands wrapped a compress around your aged skin. Bullet wounds had become a mundane part our days, as did new spaces.  We were assassins, on the run from any type of law. Evasion and hiding were all we knew at this point. That and each other , and frankly that’s all we really needed. Eventually we ensconced ourselves in a little flat in Marrakesh. Haunted by the beams of sunrise, we spoke about everything from simple quandaries to wistful thoughts of our past life together . Recurrent remnants that only revealed them selves when I saw you look out coldly into the distance. You told me about how much you used to have a crush on me. I told you how I struggled to learn Russian. “Это не простой язык.” You smile , the little things always make you smile. As we kiss ,a bang on our fortified door happens. The sûreté nationale had us cornered. I panic, pondering. How did the find us so quickly !? A swan like movement was all it took and in a moment I was ready with an Ak-47 in hand  and duffle bag of cash on my back. To my surprise I looked over and saw you lounging on the chair drinking the last of your scotch-whiskey, head seemingly clouded. I was confused. The door was on the verge of being breached and with an  accent originating from south Staraya (acquired from years of missions in the motherland ) you speak. “ I’m tired of running, Isaiah.I’ve spent my whole life running, Ive spent it hiding and repressing….thinking and crying. I’m tired of that.” I grieved for those words as they left the solace of your thoughts “ When I was a child all I ever wanted to do was play, but they wouldn’t let me. All I ever wanted to do was be free!” , a cold silence fills the air “…but they wouldn’t let me.” Your pain reminiscent of time long ago in place very far away

A séance ensuded in my mind as I recalled a version of you and I that had retained some, if any innocence. Tears cascading down your tawny skin, you wept to me just before dawn had set. Life to you became unbearable as you reveal all the things that brought pain. Telling me stories of ****, neglect and so much more in your youth. Not to mention the trifecta of abuse by your parents, leaving menatal, physical, and emotional scars for many day, months, and years to come.” I just want to  leave” you whispered into my chest. In a calm reflective tone I asked” where would you go?”  You whispered “Far away.” Dawn had just begun and rays of sun snuck through the blinds of my apartment in Fullerton. “ What would you do?” Without thinking you unborrowed your head and gave a stare of passionate indiffernece to the world and eveything encompassed in it. ”Anything I want”. We shared a silence.

The thought of loving someone with all my being used to scare me. I used to have mild fits of terror, shocked by how it can destroy a man from the inside out. It just seems like a black hole. So it holds good logic that by the time I realzied what my heart held dearest was you, I couldnt do much about. It was malignant. Seeing your face that morning and knowing how you felt brought me to a place of desperation. I knew then and there that I’d do anything for you. So I made promises, I told you that we could go, that I’d run with you, and we’d never look back… and thats exactly what we did.

 That is to say, I wasnt proud of what we did. We went from average citizens to killers for hire. But I was happy with what we accomplished, for we had captured paradise on earth. We didnt answer to anyone.We didnt need to worry about relatively anything and most importantly we didnt have to do anything we didnt want to do. We were free, or at the very least, as close as one could get to it.

Snapping out of my momentary trance, I see you move and hear the breaking of the door. Berreta in hand you took to your feet and aimed at the door. “They’ll NEVER let us be free, so-” I aim my AK at the remains of our door way and reply “ We must take our freedom .” In one final solemn moment we shared two sets of final words “je t'aime —–.” “ я люблю тебя, Isaiah.” Instantly the room was raided, Shell casings rained down , cleansing all impurities.



We died. We were free.
Excerpt from a piece in writing
 Jan 2017 Amanda Kay Hill
Jasmina
WHAT ARE WE?

Time on my hands -
like blood at a ****** scene.

My face muscles frozen as I kneel before
the last form of belief that shall ever exist.


WHAT AM I -
But a time traveler that has but witnessed extinctions and destruction.
The last human shadow abandoned by moral values.
A forgotten and abandoned generosity at the cemetery of Existance.

I can barely remember how I got here,
As never have I imagined the world this place to be.

Never have I thought that wrinkles on the heart can tell such sad stories,
Nor did I imagine how hard it would be to keep the waterfall of words
from running over the cliff of the lips.
For, some eyes in this world have witnessed greater pain
than it can ever be fairly monumentalized.

WHAT HAVE I -
But grotesque images
And some predecessors' stories.
Nothing do I see but what world of agony wants me to see.


The energy of sorrow and despair
outbalanced the warm and bright rays of circle of birth.


WHAT ARE WE –
But soulless and narcissistic
yet self-abandoned creatures,
that criticize and worship
random crumbs and pieces of good deeds.
As for the better seldom does anyone know.
  
WHAT AMAZES US –
But our true forgotten existence -
Mystery of humanity, that surprises as a sudden shock of electricity -
That is nothing but a last sign of natural instincts that existed in
someone else's stories of what we had used to be.

Nothing to remember -
But melodramatic elegies
Of wars and losses,
Self-Abundance and social negligence
celebrated at the Inferno of wasted souls.

What do we love?
What have we become?
 Jan 2017 Amanda Kay Hill
Àŧùl
I love you,
The best is yet to come.
Don't scramble,
Let us plan our lives.
We have it in our hands,
Luck and destiny will bend before us.

Yes we toil for it,
Both of us will put efforts.
Don't be scared dear,
Just hold my hand firmly.
What we can't individually do,
Together we will manage it all.

The sun in our sky has risen,
It will reach higher up above.
Not burning it will emblazon,
Just shining away all darkness.
How differences of ours remain,
We won't let them become large.

And yes, today I tell you darling,
Two different individuals we are.
So many of differences will ripen,
But how we treat them is unto us.
We can't let them become so large,
The love we share is much bigger.

Just practice perseverance my love,
Stay strong & toil hard we both will.
Not breaking mountains we must be,
Still challenging stay all our methods.
Zest of ours must not fail in this spirit,
Zealous we voyage on in the sea of life.

We both have that passion in ourselves,
Helping people parry off all the dangers.
Never would we worry about our past,
For we both cherish the lessons learnt.
Odds will often rise between both of us,
We won't let them disunite us any day.

This love I feel is a bit experienced,
And my experience tells me a lot.
We must never fall out separate,
Because together we're happy.
Differences do not invite rifts,
Neither should we let them...
Written under the effects of the wine called love.

My HP Poem #804
©Atul Kaushal
 Jan 2017 Amanda Kay Hill
Àŧùl
All such stuff is only a myth, right?
Why else would women be forsaken?
Is having periods a grave sin, really?

Their God is just a fantasy, right?
Why else will God forsake Its kids?
The real God is sleeping, isn't It??

God could be a female too, right?
Why assign a gender to God then?
Is God so weak, kidding right???
Read about some ridiculous places of worship recently.

My HP Poem #923
©Atul Kaushal
Next page