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Amidst ancient ruins,
A pair, fugitives from past,
Conspire against time!
light heals the places
beneath my skin
where shadows have cut me
so deep that I bleed
ghosts from my ancient past
the face of a girl
looks out from within the mirror
of my soul, lost and found
caught between selflessness and sin
wishing she could fall in love
with some fallen angel,
nurse his broken wings
back to life with kisses
and melodies that haunt them both
desire sits on her shoulder
like a whisper or a dream
waiting for a chance
to quietly enter her heart
and build its home in her hands
Shofi Ahmed Jan 17
Meet here the open future shows up
at the earth's hub-moon's anew rallying
to the untouching-sea the Indian subcontinent's
corner to the ancient wind!
yosemite Oct 2018
i’m shock-collared at the gates of heaven
i’ve kicked the cairns and shot the bird
and now, an avian crucifix on my neck,
i **** my ship
i swear i’m a good man

i’m barking at my toes,
affixed and accused
mouth wide open
screaming for rain
holding back the blood flowing from my nose
and that wretched albatross mocks me
i swear i’m a good man
sunprincess Jan 13
From ancient times One arose
And engraved meaningful words
“Know Thyself”
Sumus System Jan 9
Musty smells and dusty shelves
Many places in the pages
Where to go and what to know
So many choices, echoes of voices

Gentle handling, floorboards rattling
Once was great, now lost to fate
Still treasure inside, their value magnified
Stories of old, worth more than gold
Books are a beautiful thing.
Aditya Roy Jan 4
Took a break from work,
Decide to write a poem
And I thought of you...
In blankets,
LOoking for a song,

You're living in a fascinating world
Where the languages are different
But the people are selfish and
Lost at sea
Torn apart at the seams

The poem's page is torn into pieces
The message is still on the phone
As a text
I have 12 minutes
Before I take you to pieces
Look at your ashes
They all burn to seamless
Floating on the breeze
Dusty windows at the yellow dawn
Of green day
Of ******'s release
"Be a man," keep them out noisy Irishmen break the fight with Italian stilettos from the shop of the British. Irishmen you'll be done when we’re done with ya. But stay in your country.
Astral Jan 1
I've grown tired,
This is getting heavy.
My body may be young,
But my soul,
The part that is ME,
Is old.
It is ancient.
It has risen,
And it has fallen just the same.

But what it hasn't done yet,
Is finished living.
This past year I grew a lot, I've been working a lot more on my art and I feel that I've grown closer to a lot of my friends, however I've also had some setbacks with being sorta unmotivated and experiencing art block more and more often. But heres to 2019!
Shofi Ahmed Dec 2018
Tragedy and us
we are old flames
not strangers.

We shared the same
ancient tree.
Heard the first chirping
of the morning birds
on our tree branch.
And saw nightingale's lament
on the red rose beneath our nest.
Blooming upon a dew
is yet unfathomed by the sea.
We know it because together
we once touched its bottomline!

Deep from the bottom
this pristine sorrow
we know it from time ago.
Then when I sighed
intended to make a noise
splashing out a cloud
off the sorry sea.
But instead of groaning out
to the lotus pool beneath the sky.
It always rained down sweetwater
back to the earth.
Because every destined grief
deep down is filled with nectar!
c Dec 2018
My body is a museum
I am full of ancient ruins
Pieces of my past
I am fragile, beautiful
Tainted by time
You can look,
But please don’t touch
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