Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 12h lyla
mysterie
~~
you only ever call --
when she doesn't answer
to your pleas.
i pick up anyway,
just to hear
a voice --
one that won't
choose me.
date wrote: 22/6/25
 1d lyla
mysterie
~~
grief doesn't knock-
it slips in
wearing her perfume,
that strong vanilla scent
it sits beside me in silence,
and stays longer than memory.
date wrote: 20/6/25
Tell me this!
How can you cage a bird
When you fell in love
Whilst watching it fly?
 1d lyla
Meera
He doesn't burn photographs
He doesn't join therapy sessions
He doesn't smoke too many cigarettes
Nor he drown himself into alcohol
He scratches his wounds daily
And never let them heal
He doesn't try to get rid of the pain
Instead he let it grow on him
He waters the seed of sorrow with his tears
He feeds it with the manure of old memories
He takes it to sleep with him
And nurtures it in himself
Till the moment when every single drop of his blood gets replaced by this pain
Until his fragile heart can bear no more
And his soul starts overflowing with emotions
That's when he dip his pen into this pain
And empty his heart on a piece of paper
He bares his soul for us to feel
He creates poetry that the world would cherish for centuries to come
That's how true poetry comes into existence
a gift for Aladdin Aures H
from his 3rd follower...

<>><<>
the inescapable need,
unformed firmament
inquiring; am I capable?

the impulse palpable,
the urge to urgent,
to gorge and disgorge?

instead of morning prayers,
precomposed and ordered,
morning poem plucked from

morning fog, gusted breezes,
early-on, newborn sun rays,
progeny of disheveled skies

words fused, in irregular sizes,
senses censured by drowsy eyes,
but the chest beating arrhythmia

means bursts of free verses
superimposed on reluctant eyelids,
jigsaw puzzlement be re-conformed

and the first poem of the day,
emerges from the intersection
of mind, pale dreams, and the

first is special till the neu morrow,
when fresh bursts explode inward
to windward, and the first is just

yesterday's mesh of hash,
once formidable, now last,
pinned, yellowing, purely a
*descendant of the recent,
but always, ancient past
^
3:07pm
a bright sun grilled day, in a cold June
Juneteenth 3025

on the Isle of, in the piet's nook
i am the only one here
and i stand in your place

occupy your shadow
the sun on my face

is your sun
the breath i breathe

is your breath
overhead kites of birds spin

tethered to earth by invisible strings
tonight the sky will blaze with stars

they will be your stars
the moon almost complete

will be your moon
i will be the only one there

standing in your place
 3d lyla
Dency
I have all this love
And nowhere to put it
It's rotting inside me
Soft,warm
Unspent.

I reach out in dreams
But wake up alone
His name buried in my throat
Like a secret
I was not allowed to say.

He didn't stay
But the love did
And now it grows wild
Inside a heart
With no one left
To give it to.

— The End —