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YAYATHI Jun 2019
I am the body sans its soul
I am dressed in fancy work attire
I glow like any gentleman's body
I look like the master of my world

I step into the ergonomical work world
Only that in real it's a glass walled Colosseum

There is a Caesar up there in a throne
There are lot of cheers for me
But at the end of the day
I am just a slave dressed up as gladiator

The arena is set; mud covers yesterday's blood
Gods of the sky, be around
Soak up my sweat if I live through the day
Soak up my blood, if I dont make it that way.

The fight is on, villains galore
Sometimes they are the warriors dressed up in gold
Some times they are the monstrous beasts thirsty for my blood
Either ways it is a battle for life and bread.

The day is coming to close..
Doesn't matter whether I win or lose
I end up kneeling down
At the end of Caesar's throne

What will the Caesar do now?
Doesn't matter any how
I have to return here tomorrow
Without my soul in tow
Our every talk
an episode of competitive mind athletics
As each tries to outpace the other
On the eccentric field tracks of conversation.

We are more like ****** – militants,
For after every hello and before the next goodbye there always remains a trail of carnage;
Inside my eyes and on your face are the grimmest battlefields;
Emotions are always the casualties;
Paying the price for two egos clashing in frantic effort to maintain the gravities of inner pride.

Your name and mine;
Two eagles wrestling every hour
trying gravely to unsettle the establishment;
To shift the equilibrium,
To make the universe lose its balance.

Lady;
The survival of our acquaintance is based on something stronger than the spiritual;
Our mutualism
One flower least expected to flourish
I think nature made me for you;
I am the antithesis to your existence;
Only in our duality can peace exist;
Two powers of chaos
Tumultuous forces that cannot live without each other.

Teyana;
I think you know that I am the best thing that is ever going to happen to you.

{She Smiles and nods}

WordSmith_Wiz
31/12/2018
For Teyana, Let me embrace your chaos. From the upcoming love anthology "TEYANA"
Daphne Bellfield Jun 2019
Masks painted with understanding.
Butterfly stings kiss my body.
This wicked nightmare sequence is recurring.
The canyon deep scars are my autobiography.

Well-hidden they are under a forced smile
Under the navy jeweled sky.
Rapped and cradled like a pregnable baby,
I sing softly a heinous lullaby.

The stranger in the mirror closes in.
The veiled battles I fight will end in my defeat.
My lily covered mattress awaits for me
Is this my retribution?

I drunk the poison labeled love,
I kissed thy lips of the unknown.
My arteries and veins are drained of warmth
My feeble heart couldn’t take it anymore.

It isn’t built for vile words,
It isn’t created to withstand restrained,
But smile I tell my semi-living self.
Smile;

Serpentine shaped promises,
Slither their way to my conscience.
Love is addressed in corrupt angel voices,
Clouding my sanity.

May the light shine upon the darkness.
May the ruined mend.
Music can speak louder,
Than any word spoken.

It will all be over soon,
When the clock strikes twelve.
When the sun goes to bed,
The night will hold you in a motherly embrace.

Smile my little soldier,
Smile with the crumbling smile you have left.
It may be broken but it’s beautiful
Smile my little champion;  

©2019

-Daphne Bellfield
Colm May 2019
When all my battles are won and done
I will not fear the fight that was
So why worry about the swing of the sword
Before the sun of that day is even in my eyes
Why worry indeed
Every Year, Every Battle, Ends
Justina Julianna May 2019
I am wide awake. Awaiting answers, a love story, and a place that feels like home. But what happens when the answers arrive, I love, and I’m home. True bliss won’t begin until the fighting for basic necessities is over, and everything I thought I had to fight for won’t matter anymore. Fate in revenge, even for the empathetic.
Xgaizer May 2019
It's hard to fight in a battle that no one have seen
It's a battle between you and your mind
Between what's right and what's wrong
Between darkness and light
How could you still fight, if right in front of your eyes,
Is the thing you scared the most
It is something you fear
It whisper to your ear the most hopeless word
By then the most hurtful drops fell from the sky
A voice that come out in your lips
It was the loudest sound
You look around
Just to realize the most loudest is the most quiet voice.
Tell me what is the meaning of the poem
H I Kabo May 2019
She called herself a fighter,
Yet, there was no victory assigned
to her non-existent list of battles.
What is in a fighter if not for the
monuments dedicated to their names?

She called herself a survivor,
Yet, she had never had an
encounter with the entity called death.
What is in a survivor if not for the endless
bruises and scars that they endured?

Oh she was! Her fights, much more
brutal than battles won by warriors.
And her scars, deeper -though unseen-
than that of a knight. And they asked:
'What is in a fighter if not for a girl that
overcame her translucent battles?'
Believe in you.
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