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Sasha Paulona Jul 15
Layers of layers dust
It's hard to see what's behind the red
in your eyes............
Be the Open book for society
that can't ******* read...
Let them guess if it's you or someone
they're missing...
Sasha Paulona Jan 11
The wasted land,
Where the birds Sing,
but the people cry,

The purple city,
Burning in yellow
The cruellest month,
Which is flames mix with cold.
Sickening my mind all of a sudden.

Late winter sky is about to cry
conquer in wind,
Amber-hued, sunny and hot,
The owner of our secretes,
Hiding from our grieving eyes
Sinking in greyish blue cloud.

I found the best moment to write,
Right after melancholy moments.

From his smoothen skin to her so mean eyes,
Born something unknown desire to have,
Every touch of his, soaked in alky ash.
lets fire up that moment with unspoken truth.
Be as you always been,
Be that lover and don't be change

There was fear and the fire
With the suffused enough heart, like unbreakable
With the cried enough eyes, like compassionate
To each other, to the sea, which seems
The illusions lay before us on land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful
Neither joy, nor love,
Nor peace, nor help for pain;
Scattered the violet and blue light
Away from our eye sight
In this lonely city,
Where struggle and tenderness collide,
Swept with complex evening clouds.
Colombo - Sri lanka. Galle face sunset view
Sasha Paulona Oct 2021
No one can be fully aware of another human being unless we love them.
By that love, we see potential in our beloved.
Through that love, we allow our beloved to see their potential. Expressing that love, our beloved's potential comes true.
Sasha Paulona Oct 2021
She  - Have you ever been heartbroken ?  
Me - oh yes! Many... I easily fall in love
She - That's normal... Because you are an artist.  
Me thinking about you.....................
Sasha Paulona Sep 2021
BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

Her lily hand her rosy cheek lies under,
Cozening the pillow of a lawful kiss;
Who, therefore angry, seems to part in sunder,
Swelling on either side to want his bliss;
Between whose hills her head entombed is;
Where like a virtuous monument she lies,
To be admired of lewd unhallowed eyes.

Without the bed her other fair hand was,
On the green coverlet, whose perfect white
Showed like an April daisy on the grass,
With pearly sweat resembling dew of night.
Her eyes, like marigolds, had sheathed their light,
And canopied in darkness sweetly lay
Till they might open to adorn the day.

Her hair like golden threads played with her breath
O modest wantons, wanton modesty!
Showing life’s triumph in the map of death,
And death’s dim look in life’s mortality.
Each in her sleep themselves so beautify
As if between them twain there were no strife,
But that life lived in death, and death in life.

Her ******* like ivory globes circled with blue,
A pair of maiden worlds unconquered,
Save of their lord no bearing yoke they knew,
And him by oath they truly honored.
These worlds in Tarquin new ambition bred,
Who like a foul usurper went about
From this fair throne to heave the owner out.

What could he see but mightily he noted?
What did he note but strongly he desired?
What he beheld, on that he firmly doted,
And in his will his willful eye he tired.
With more than admiration he admired
Her azure veins, her alabaster skin,
Her coral lips, her snow-white dimpled chin.

As the grim lion fawneth o’er his prey
Sharp hunger by the conquest satisfied,
So o’er this sleeping soul doth Tarquin stay,
His rage of lust by gazing qualified;
Slacked, not suppressed; for, standing by her side,
His eye, which late this mutiny restrains,
Unto a greater uproar tempts his veins.

And they, like straggling slaves for pillage fighting,
Obdurate vassals fell exploits effecting.
In ****** death and ravishment delighting,
Nor children’s tears nor mothers’ groans respecting,
Swell in their pride, the onset still expecting.
Anon his beating heart, alarum striking,
Gives the hot charge and bids them do their liking.

His drumming heart cheers up his burning eye,
His eye commends the leading to his hand;
His hand, as proud of such a dignity,
Smoking with pride, marched on to make his stand
On her bare breast, the heart of all her land,
Whose ranks of blue veins, as his hand did scale,
Left their round turrets destitute and pale.

They, mustering to the quiet cabinet
Where their dear governess and lady lies,
Do tell her she is dreadfully beset
And fright her with confusion of their cries.
She, much amazed, breaks open her locked-up eyes,
Who, peeping forth this tumult to behold,
Are by his flaming torch dimmed and controlled.

Imagine her as one in dead of night
From forth dull sleep by dreadful fancy waking,
That thinks she hath beheld some ghastly sprite,
Whose grim aspect sets every joint a-shaking.
What terror ‘tis! but she, in worse taking,
From sleep disturbed, heedfully doth view
The sight which makes supposed terror true.

Wrapped and confounded in a thousand fears,
Like to a new-killed bird she trembling lies.
She dares not look; yet, winking, there appears
Quick-shifting antics ugly in her eyes.
Such shadows are the weak brain’s forgeries,
Who, angry that the eyes fly from their lights,
In darkness daunts them with more dreadful sights.

His hand, that yet remains upon her breast
(Rude ram, to batter such an ivory wall!)
May feel her heart (poor citizen) distressed,
Wounding itself to death, rise up and fall,
Beating her bulk, that his hand shakes withal.
This moves in him more rage and lesser pity,
To make the breach and enter this sweet city.
BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Sasha Paulona Sep 2021
Nights end
Days start
Time go on by
I fall more and more to moments
I can't bear to see
Stolen glance of craving eyes
Cold this night, feeds the insanity
Ignore the shivering hue of lights
Rain drops almost cover them or less
My mind fly over the cloud.
To find the perfect duo tonight

Let night pass,
let days pass
let them die.
let the moments live as time go on
Unknown  figures arise from haze
I pause the time to see you in me
And yet it
no more than halfway real.
You know what is the most fascinating thing  about life I found today.. its, you can have moments in present just like you had in couple years a ago. Its rare but its really happen. Today is a special day like that. Its rainy and I'm so full of dreamy moments with my imagination.

Last night I wanted to write something. It was same cold and rainy... I wrote about the moment that I never had in my life. Just imaging about everything around me.

And today morning, thanks to the Facebook  genius programmers I found a poem I wrote in 2019 with same lines, same thing.... Isn't it fascinating 😮 I mean I feel soo magical... 🤷.   Life is so beautiful when you have this unexpected but magical moments in your life with your own work ❤
Sasha Paulona Jun 2021
Love like the colours of rainbow
Love like a pilgrim of life
In the edge of golden horizon,
I saw the eyes of angle
Who owns them?
Are they mine?

Love is song of the river.
Love is a cloud in summer.
The dearie in a despairing courtyard
Where does he belongs to...?
Is he mine?

Pieces of bleeding heart,
Disappeared in a song I sang.
Sink into the twilight zone
like a dog with two tails

Eyes on to skin
Heart in to soul
Love’s for completeness !
Shapes are crawling to perfection
But still unsatisfied shapeless desires...….

God of golden wings
Praises the lust in dark
Around the endless hypnosis...….
No one will Understand but the GOD...........
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