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  Dec 2023 Nylee
Zywa
Love does prove itself

in attentively hearing --


of what is not said.
Novel "De gebeurtenis" ("The event", 2022, Peter Terrin), chapter Juliette (3) #1

Collection "Loves Tricks Gains Pains in the 20s"
  Dec 2023 Nylee
August
He gave me dead flowers
So I can smell them every day
The rotten petals falling
The color of decay

The washed out sunflower
The dehydrated leaves
The mold on the water
The color of debris

The richly red rose
Now drooping to the floor
The color of love
Existed no more

But still I saved the flowers
And smelled them every day
And watered them with tears
To let them grow again.
  Dec 2023 Nylee
Pagan Paul
The speed of light matters little,
even from its initial burst.
It changes not the basic fact
that the darkness got there first.
A little philosophical thinking!
  Dec 2023 Nylee
Druzzayne Rika
My inner voice, a chatty friend,
When sleep I seek, its whispers blend.
It lures me to its side,
And bids my slumber to confide.

It babbles on, without a pause,
Its endless chatter makes me doze.
I try to hush its gentle plea,
But sleep eludes me, it mocks me.

Oh, inner voice, I beg of thee,
Please grant me peace, and set me free.
Release your grip, and let me rest,
For sleep I long, my weary quest.
  Dec 2023 Nylee
Man
Can you call?

When voices are lost,
And nothing but silence echoes

Truly, it is too much-
To love with your all, it takes a cost
At the expense of yourself, you let go

Rear cheek,
And rob the moment of any frost,
Recompense, in word and not wound

What a world it could be,
If we weren't so self consumed.
  Dec 2023 Nylee
Druzzayne Rika
A violet sky, a silver sea,
A scene so pure, it should make me free.
But in this beauty, I find no ease,
A hollow feeling that won't appease.

The air is pungent, the land is polluted,
The creatures of this world, so persecuted.
Their plight unseen, their voices unheard,
As we exploit them, with no remorse.

Our greed is like a parasite,
Devouring all in its sight.
We leave behind a trail of destruction,
A hollow world, devoid of instruction.

Vindictive nature, now takes its toll,
As we reap the seeds that we sow.
The beauty fades, the sparkle wanes,
And all that's left is a hollow refrain
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