~
Underneath a crushing moonlit
Roses are dancing in a glow garden
Cram of comeliness whispering through my pensive
Applaud an agitating mind of dragging love
That submerging under a poetic passion
A wild **** of beauty wishing to crave a romance
Stressing on mind that makes
Bubbles of emotions simultaneously,
Touching and filling the empty dreams
That essence of heaven creating the melody of divine music
Passing through the poet's nose and nails
Deep ache  popping at the heart and stone
There render of love conceiving to catch a **** of heaven
A tangible gaiety that creates so surprising illusion
The glimmer chords becoming to splash
The utmost inflames growing to outburst,
Bursts into the fire of gaiety--
Psyche pouring a fathomless passion till the twilight
Where there I am dancing alone with my shadow,
Ah! my Love--
Oh! my Love ----
What a Crushing Moonlit!!  
~
@ Musfiq us shaleheen

I made a wrong choice
I miss him
I'm jealous
I want him
I need him
I only want to talk to him

He makes me smile
He makes me laugh
He makes me happy
He doesn't love me
He can't anymore

I left him
I made a bad choice
He doesn't care
He made the right choice
I'm not okay
He's not in love
We are apart
Forever.

///
one real feel
I want to share with you,my friend
the shells of strata has three layers:

the upper shell of strata,
alluvium-
very polished-
straightforward-
black and white-
seems nothing wrong-
optimistic-

the middle shell,
the secret song-
surface has hidden-
dialectic-
partial red line-
pessimistic-
pressure on both upper and lower,
uncovered ultimate-

the bottom shell,
compact and tiny-
the hidden beauty–
the ultimate love--
after losing time,
spiritual---
///
- @Musfiq us shaleheen

Dear sir or madame ,
PLEASE, stop spamming the website that means a significant amount to every individual involved in this community.
It would be greatly appreciated.
You are causing a nuisance to many of us whom simply want to enact in the enjoyment of either reading or writing poetry.

Sincerely ,
Most of us?

I don't love you anymore.
There, I've said it aloud.
I understand babe, you love her
and I am truly happy, truly I am happy.
Listen, I do not love you anymore.

Life has came by and swept my
bones back in place, my skeleton
complete without a heart.
It lays o'er there in a cage, ready
to be given to someone else.
I don't love you anymore.

I laugh because not a drop
of guilt forsakes me.
It is you! You should feel guilty!
No, not guilty, but honored
For I have written countless
poems describing us.
Yes, us.

But I do not ******* love you any longer.

I am a work...
     In progress...
          Not complete...
               But yet...
                    Not lacking...
I am a work...
     Of art...
          My beauty lies...
               Within my flaws...
                     For all to see...
I am a work...
     My triumphs and...
          My tragedies together...
               Equal partners...
                    In what I am...
I am a work...
     My past...
          My present...
               My future...
                    Together making me...
I am a work...
     My question is...
          How...
               Will you...
                    Shape me?