Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
S I N Dec 2019
Some time already I’ve been walking,
Mu tongue dried out from lack of talking,
My feet was bleeding through the holes
In leather boots which had no soles;
The barren land behind me Was,
In front of me (of sunken nose)
Was nothing better, nothing worse
Just the landscape as well hoarse
With not one herb, or rill or well;
Not e’en vicinities of hell
I’m sure were such a wretched view,
Where e’en a little drop of dew
Was worthy of the Holy Grail,
Let alone the brook, or dale
To cool yourself in misty shade
Where miseries somehow will fade
For so a little, though, albeit
The swarming thoughts itself may mate
Into one pleasant revery
Begotten by the freshing lee..
I dropped in fancy for a moment
But limbs of mine that were so swollen
Reminded of themselves with pain..
So I proceed my way again
Tori Schall Oct 2019
Desolate
synonymous to:
Barren
Wasteland
Empty

Forgotten
Synonymous to:
My life
My existence
My happiness

Joyful:
The Antonym to:
My brain
my love
my head

Loved,
Something that I do not feel
Something that I don't remember the warmth of
Something I will never have
Wren May 2019
show me
with trembling fingers
a shallow breath
what it means
to close a book

take the barren thread
raise me up
adjusting buckling knees

show me
how much you hate me
beyond what words
could say
this one really caught me off guard. thanks to you, Lana, for this masterpiece. about suicide...
Badshah Khan Apr 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) – 87

BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem

Oh my Beloved!
With your divine presence’
In the barren garden’
Whole garden started to flourish.

When I naturally suspect,’
The divine presence of you’
I am universally seeing the gazing light’
All over the barren garden.

Oh my Beloved!
This minute, I rest peacefully’
Within your divine presence.

In my sacred burial ground
Which is correctly located
At this barren garden!

Allah Khair….. Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem

Ummah Thurab – Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust)
Tori Mar 2019
Fuel of the all-consuming fire
which illumines the forest green
Renewing the heart and life of the soil
through the ache of its searing heat
and without it?suffocation.
Which strangles the life of the wood
leaving in its wake a blank and barren earth
Tanay Sengupta Mar 2019
I tried not to let go,
But she slipped through my hands.
I didn't realize I was against the flow,
Unable to adjust to the shifting sands.
Now, I sit in this emptiness longing to see her again.
I miss her presence,
Like the barren land misses the summer rain.
I want to drench in her essence
And feel alive.
She has been drained out of me.
I regret going against the tide.
There was so much that I wanted to see.
Adventures I wanted to share,
Of deserts, mountains, and the sea.
Tell her that I care
And know if she cared about me.

Oh Life, I miss you!
I realize as I sit here in my agony.
I am sorry for all I made you go through.
It is such an irony!

Because as a kid, all I wanted to do was grow up.
I could not value you when I had you.
Now, you have left and I miss you.

Oh life, I miss you in my agony.
I am smiling in my sadness,
It is such an irony!










Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2019.
All Rights Reserved.
We often value things, after we have lost them.
mary liles Feb 2019
Our garden was bare til you came,
And its sad land was suddenly filled
With life and light, and happiness through,
You pushed away the chill.

The day you showed was wondrous,
As a little green sprout you took your place,
And fought the weeds that tried
To choke your beauty and grace.

The clouds had been dreary,
The sky too grey and dull,
But when you came things took a turn,
And suddenly our lives were full!

The sun broke through and oh!-
Little rose, you grew and grew!
But now the sun is gone,
And so are you.
Savannah Jan 2019
Slow grasp growing,
Reaching for your radiance.
Once ardently awake,
My long forgotten limbs rest.

Wishing for vibrant verdant.
Instead of brown winter bramble.
Barren is the reluctant grape vine,
that awaits spring showers.
My hesitance had ruined it all.
I can't remember the way you felt against my skin.
Johnny walker Dec 2018
Always remember a very
a special moment with Helen because of her disabilities our love life
had suffered over the years
But I loved her and that's what mattered sometimes almost forgotten what her
capabilities of making love would be, purely because of pain she
suffered
But I was getting Helen ready to go out for the day I dressed In beautiful black leggings matching bra, she was a bit hot she left her blouse off, this she had done many times before I thought nothing of
this
But we had plenty time before we were due to go out
I sat looking at her and I was thinking Helen you look so beautiful and my God you're so very ****
why had not seen this sooner
Can only say In my defence being 24/7 carer I
shamefully spent to much time caring not enough time loving, anyway she
realised she having an effect
Big time she started
to play on It more, In a way only Helen could do, I
hadn't seen her so **** In years
But I said If you don't stop teasing I'm going to come over there and give you a good seeing
too
Helen laughed and said what you waiting for so I did we rekindled what been lost all these
years
Afterwards she said  you can do that once a week for me, I felt so honour and privileged
after all those barren years
not understanding what her capabilities making love really were and I felt so guilty
Could have loved Helen much more often, just had to approach ******* In slightly different
way
Because of her disabilities but sadly a week later she went In Hospital there she
died, we never did get another chance to love that way again.
Sady to busy caring 24/7
Poetic T Nov 2018
The eternal strings play
as crows feathers
                  fall like tears.

But alas,
               these will never dry
seeding the clouds with grey.

Every melody is a line of life,
now serenading stone words.

A sunset caressing
chiselled days, years,
                       then nothingness.

Upon a wooden box,
               a crow sings tears
that form on the strings of
      yesterdays now played.

          The future is barren of you.
Next page