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Ashna Alee Khan Mar 2017
Broken,
worned out,
Lost,
and you made me feel so unwanted,
and now as I sit here,
all alone,
I think of our times, our moments,
how we used to enjoy our time,
but now it's ending,
I'm watching it fading away,
I'm watching us going in the wrong direction.
I know,maybe I'm also to blame but,
If you wouldn't have gone for too long,
I wouldn't have lost my mind.
It's getting kinda old,
You know..??
I'm drained and tired,
Worned out by your fights.

Our fights.
Your words always accepted,
While I bury mine unspoken.
The one sided fight,
Where the opponent is silent.

No,
This isn't fair.
But fair doesn't exist.
Fair is a word that is created in fantasies,
Fair is a word spoken only in fairy tales.

I want this to stop.
We want this to stop.
Wait, don't you.....?
You don't speak the words,
But your actions strongly differ.

With every moment we spend together,
You explain to me the answer.
Why,
Why you treat me different now.
When nothing has really changed.

Your abhorring stares and frowns of detestation.
You tell me,
I don't belong here,
I took away your freedom.
I deserve to die.

You want me dead.
Before I utter words
You already know the condition of my heart
My intention, my bunch of reasons.

I raise my voice
Not because I'm shoutin' and screamin'
But because I wanna be heard by You
And yes, I'm gonna shake the Heaven
With all respect to the Holy Throne of Yours.

You then are my Healer
You then have saved me.

I pant, with continual desire
With praise and longing
With tears that's melting my soul
Not because I'm worned-out of this battle
But just because of my faith
Like a mustard seed
But can move mountains.

You are the same
Yesterday, today and forever
You then heard Joshua
And fought his battles
You then are with him
And gave him strength all through out
Indeed, you then will give me victory.

Your grace
It was precious to me
You are the living water
The very reason for me
To be thirsty no more
I then, am pleading
For the shower of grace
For Your miraculous act
For Your perfect will.

My cup overflows
As I seek Your face
Don't hide Yourself,
For I'll be weak without You.

I throw myself into You
I have no other fear
But the fear of You alone
You gave me the keys to Your Kingdom
And yes, I am ready for more!

Yes, yes, You are victorious in me!
Hallelujah! Praise the King of all Kings!

(7/2/14 @xirlleelang)
Nishant Mohan May 2015
Roamed, rode the road before, with the same air around,
Grouped with the same feeling but the journey this time was straight and found,
Fiery and feisty was the path that led to the shine,
I was on the path until I saw a shrine.

Met a man, without a name, with his head covered with snow,
I kept on wondering as to why he was carrying a glow.

Lived in the shrine around that holy road,
So far away from the rest that along many miles no one could be heard.

Took my time and stayed at the shrine for the night,
Unknown to what was there under his mighty plight,
Brought on to the table, the book, along with his pipe,
Kept a piece of bread, and sat along with his dignity and pride.

Picture this, old rusted, dusty, worned off,
Book was heavy but it carried a strange light.


Turned the page and found out was carrying my name,
With every single page carried my glory and fame,
Stored and lost in those pages, wandered,
Who was this old man, and what is this shrine I started to wonder.

Moved on to every page and found out the turn of events,
Till I reach the page which told about the old man , his shrine and waited for a further advent,
The pages were blank, fresh, waiting to be written,
Confused and bound, I must be mistaken.

The old man stood up, gave me keys and said,
I’m the One, who doesn't belong here,
I write the rules, those which I never share’.

For it was time to march forward,
Because he had to write what I was supposed to do and moved on.
Returned back on the same old road to find a sign,
“He was never here”
Carrying a smile, Roamed, rode the road before, with the same air around,
Its like im sunked,
below with no air I suffocate
I'm worned out.
no will or enthusiasm,
I hate everything that doesn't make sense,
I regret everything, and resent everyone in my dispense.
I pray and read , bleed and sleep,
I'm weak in a state that my body shuts down and my mind plummets at the same speed as my esteem hits the concrete, I don't speak
what can I say? Nothin will change that I have no hone no matter all the support they say, I'm just left to decay.
and by all means let me.
lets me go so I can arise my challenges as a lefty. Right wrongs and leave all behind in the battle front I fire the thing I designed.
ny purpose not givin but made, conjured by thoughts that ran free like slaves.
I'm soo down I can taste the grave dirt, ny ache is pain worth nothing workin towards so no pay is another gained curse.
what can I do ? Any options? Tell me.
I feel lonely. My own doings but ****. It's so confusing being in a selfish tug of war with selfless me.
mirrored the only thing I see is my faults on the concrete because I'm so low I can feel my feet  but can't walk cause I'm stuck beneath.
my will scratching to breathe and take a gasp of life to grasp the night before leaving for afterlife. Am I suicidal? Or is thoughts just summoning a different view than the rearview on the highway to a destination unknown because i don't wanna take an exit i just wanna part ways.
tell me.
help me.
I wrote star pearls
Like spiritless flames
Into debilitated breaths
Deftly scented letters
where truth live in death
but pluck at heartstrings
too worned out to feel for

I'd depict you in complexity
and although I walk past you
you still tuck on my temple

so I still keep standing over deep valleys
press up against the sun
for support bahind my back
because I don't wish to understand

... the power of weakness.

(INCREDIBLE INK- TEAM JAGUAR HAWAII)
© Copyright S2014 .T. Parish Rebel of Eden
clementine Aug 2020
i stared at the sea
slowly drowning in the rhythmic percussion of waves on sand.
face aglow with the last orange rays before twilight beckons the stars.

the ataraxia of the deep blue sea
brings back memorable memories
of you and me wanting to be free
and feeling the September breeze

you're like the waves
who keeps coming to me then running away
then coming back again
baby, aren't you worned out?

i tried to grasped you in my arms
but you keep slipping away
you raveged my heart
leaving it in disarray pieces

was i a fool?
to still wait for you?
you're already gone
without a trace and you never came back.
Karisa Brown  Jun 2018
Kult
Karisa Brown Jun 2018
Raw
Wet
Details
Fine art

Veins
Soaked
Blood
Fine art

Corrupt
Broken
Worned

Complete
End
Sworn

Abide
My love
Never look
Back again
Gianna  Jun 2020
Moon child
Gianna Jun 2020
Moon child,
Worned out, yet wide eyed,
Breathe in
Breathe out.

Your body is tiny.
Your heart remains untouched.
Your smile  breaks me.
I used to be happy, too.

Tell me you're still here,
Somewhere where I can find you.

Tell me you are proud of me.
Tell me you would keep fighting,
Because I need your strength.

Take all the pain away.
Take me to the stars,
Let's play with Peter Pan.

You should remain unmarked.
Yet, you're growing tired.

Have I let you down?

Moon child,
Tell me we are doing okay.
Moon child,
Keep on fighting.

This war is not over.
We shall remain victorious.
We will be marked.

Don't pay attention to others,
You are enough.
You are perfect.

Moon child,
Wild kid with  pretty eye lashes
Are you here?
I can't feel you anymore.

If you decide to stay,
So will I
A poem to my younger self
Hira malik Feb 2019
the saint raised his eye brows and looked at my worned out face,
night as if have swollowed my speeches
and my sleeps always wait for rising days,
' u are desiring for waste when time is ahead, LORD is busy in bestowing the hosts,
attend ur heart that mourns whole night, hold ur breaths those dying to gt behold'
'i look up at the sky with sleepless tiring eyes,
''call the mountains when i get old,
beaten rocks , parched lands embracing sunset, grave the pleasures where hearts too cold,
my dreams insane me , when i drink the taste of ignorance,
i frown and i drown in my own silence, when my words hate me,
i bury my head again for no sake, for no treasure,
when i look at the baseless life, when i laugh at the senseless fear''
Like a box of crayons,
We come in many shades, and
in many different colors,
Shades and skintones, we
Precede one another.
We have the reds, and
the Oranges galore,
and the rest of the colors,
that we certainly do adore.
We are like crayons,
We start off as perfect, but
When we're worned down,
We are tattered and broken,
We are still useful, although
our essence had faded,
We're used less and less, and
We start to feel degraded,
We are like these crayons,
We are still around, but
Our purpose becomes useless,
as we are dwindling on down!!!


B.R.
Date: 11/9/2024

— The End —