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A poor soul, asked the eternity-
Can you tell me,
Where is my destiny?

The eternity jingled, mingled
Laughed, puffed
And said, why should I tell you,
In comparison to me
You are so tiny!

The poor soul, finding the response
Cried a lot, but silently
And asked thyself
For an appropriate answer-

Later on realized
The cruelty of fate,
And, thereafter
Remained silent forever.
-------------
do you have moments where you can’t imagine a future?
you’re lying there staring at the
same walls
same ceilings
same words
with nothing but the same feelings-
empty and pale
like there’s no reason to go on
when you can’t even do enough to fail
the future is coming but you
can’t imagine yourself in it
where you just want to stop
everything
and just sit there for a while
maybe not forever
as that’s too permanent,
but something close to it
when you feel like there's a rope
around your neck
Is it just depression or is it the loneliness
when you don't know but you know
you can't continue to feel this way © Jennifer Delong 11/7/18
 Oct 2020 Huzaifa Anwar
Traveler
Whether a comma, or colon:
Punctuation slows my rolling
I need no period. When I end
no Capitalization when I begin
Rulelessly I flow my art
  Not a single!
Exclamation mark
Are you not the one
Who'll know?
Where a question mark
No longer goes

Warp the structure
Bend the lines
Put in repeat
Let emotion unwind
Make yourself
Your poetry's the best
Be your own ruler
Pass your own test

Take your own road
Where ever it leads
Lover or hater
It's all poetry!
Traveler Tim
.


Hay
No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!

Vanity
All is vanity
The meanings of passion
The aesthetic expression
The lines we draw and stay within
Even love is beyond intent
Vanity transcends
Flowing from our pens
And so we breathe again
 Aug 2017 Huzaifa Anwar
jerely
why don't we chill in the afternoon?
let's have a break when we're too much
busy doing things around
put the mp3 on
listen to a random songs
maybe we could shuffle it
and play it again and again
until our ears could bleed out
with pure innocent days,
nostalgic moments,
teenage crush,
and the beat
that we couldn't get over
until we got LSS to only one song or more.
it's very late
and here i am again
writing out of the blue
haven't been doing this on here
i'd just want to know
that this is the kind of place
that i'm most comfortable doing.


1:21 am
jerelii
august 22, 2017
 Mar 2017 Huzaifa Anwar
Helen
Months of sweating
vetting every word written
Shivering over all
that remained hidden

Rocking back and forth
Recognising the demons scream
Asking to be fed more
Inside of empty dreams

Then the words, they spill
from cracked and broken lips
bleeding onto tissue paper
inking stains of fatal trips

Then comes the rush
a verbiage of torrential pain
Crouching on a backlit screen
pockmarked with finger stains

The first spike of adrenaline
fizzes inside a broken mind
The churning end to a journey
that has completely left you blind

Collapsing in upon itself
is the high that's found a low
and when the reader is gone
You wonder where you'll go?

Perhaps you'll find a new pusher
Someone else to feed your pain
Someone that will dig that needle
deep
even deeper into the vein
I always thought picking up a pen helped
me cope with the complexity of everyday life
and somehow found comfort in knowing that somewhere
a page read my every thought, experience, and sacrifice.

I try my best to tell you how I feel somehow
I am sure and this I believe in this is real
from my heart I sing to you when I'm open
that you'll understand what I'm trying to say
I found a place inside of me and I'm grateful for each day

A broken wing has not stopped me from flying, I leave no footprints
when you're around I know myself and you make me so proud of what I found
My book is open now the pen keeps on writing, story of my life it starts right here.
I'll try to reach the stars and grab them and hold them with no fear.

I am captivated completely spellbound, I have found my match.
and my black bird has flown away. that black bird has left I pray for good
 May 2016 Huzaifa Anwar
Helen
It will come to everyone, at some stage in their life, an instant stoppage of time, where images blur and fade away only to convescale into tight focus stabbing deep with a sharper pain.

That one thought that paints a thousand pictures of silent screams that no one heard. That instant when you knew all the words you spilled are only piling up as a mound of dirt.

A moment of clarity as clear as the centre of a bubble. That one moment in time when you ask yourself...
am I really that unloveable?

that will be the whisper of a small voice inside an empty space. It's the same question you'll ask of the mirror while looking at the same face.

That one inner warning that hits with piercing clarity. It will come to you, rest assured, when your lost and alone and you don't want charity,
you won't want pity or useless platitudes spilling from dead lips that leak poison from inside. You just want one person, just one, to hear what you say and hold your hand and not try to hide.

That one moment in time should not be a reoccurring event,
but when it is, the shock is less, you become just that little more hardened, and less hell bent,
to share your life and your feelings
and your heart.
It really is a lesson that should be learnt from the start.
this is not about writing, this is about losing that one person, time and time again. the one you thought would be the one you could call a friend
 Jan 2016 Huzaifa Anwar
Hannah
My love life is a history of silence;
A song of half-swallowed moments,
A tango of tangled words.
Incredibly good at making bad decisions
Because when things are going well
My insatiable hunger kicks in
To ravage happiness
To every inch

Until it is no more.
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