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Spriha Kant Aug 25
When my soul gets bubbled inside gloominess , there's only one potent voice that blasts the bubble ; my inner voice who calls me out , ' Spriha , don't listen to anyone except me. '
-elixir- Aug 7
The plane was her last ride,
back to her home
from the deserts of dreams.
The modern plague of her times
drained the last bit out of her.

The ride began as she huddled
her child and spouse close
as if the she knew it was their last
embrace and warmth.
They fell into the indefinite slumber.

The rain lashed it's fury and
winds howled death.
The pilot's last breath was put into
stopping the airborne casket of hopes.
As it skid and crashed them.

Their hopes to live remain immortalized
in their indefinite sleep,
as we mourn their loss,
through the tears of pain that
tear out our folly.
My soul grieves for the families of the plane accident in Kerala. The stranded children make me cry as they try to find their parents. The landslides and floods add up to the worries. Not to mention the covid-19 virus.
The blast in Lebanon was also another terrible mishap, a huge number of people have lost their home and belongings and have become homeless in a matter of seconds. My heart is laden with sadness, is there any hope at this point? where is the world heading to?
S I N Feb 17
First it hits - then there’s a blast
It is so simple man
Perhaps
But when you come to think of it
You dread
For how you could
But well
You know
You wouldn’t know
That’s all
That’s how it is
How Was and will
And ****** be ye if not feel chill
For it is scary
Just you think
You live and die in just a blink
GR-inspired
Äŧül Nov 2019
Massage it,
Shake it,
Think about her.
Massage it more,
Shake it till you blast,
Experience the ephermal joy.
Avoid premarital pregnancy.
My HP Poem #1796
©Atul Kaushal
laura Sep 2019
I've never been a huge socializer,
and that's really all,
that people seem to do at football games.
So, why even go?
Well, now that I'm a member of the marching band,
it looks like I have to.
I mean, last night I never really thought that I'd have fun.
I mean, who wants to just go and scream for 3 hours?
I guess I do.
Last night was amazing.
You get to just be yourself,
and you just forget about everything.
You just realize more and more through the game,
that's it's just about having a blast and playing songs,
to keep the team going.
There we were, waving our instruments,
screaming for our team,
and having the time of our lives.
Now, I know for a fact,
that at the end of the season,
I will do anything to go back,
and do it all again...
Last night was the first varsity football game. As a first year marching member I didn't really know what to expect :)
Aleph Apr 2019
The barren   landscape sends me shivers
Further enhanced by the total obliteration
The presence of ghosts still lingers
So many years after the detonation

All this desolation pictures
Like a scene from the apocalypse scriptures
A pale nuclear shadow projected eternally
The perpetual loss of harmony

A remnant showing us our absurdity
Was vaporised by the obfuscating bright
The ashen picture is the last goodbye
Relic of the tremendous light
My moods darken I want to cry

This is the last trace of a human being
a son of someone
prevented from further ageing
That from fate couldn’t run

Like a permanent echo of the disaster
a visual silent scream
like a photograph of a dreadful dream
a shout that sends a warning to us all


As we wish to forget how the balance is frail
It’s easy to disregard the detail
and be united by the same fate
that destruction at an even greater scale
it’s yet a threat  not out of date
pictures of Hiroshima darkened my mood, the nuclear shadow pic, made me gloomy, some words of respect and warning echoed inside
Farheen Khan Feb 2019
I dream everyday
Every night
Dream is the perfect illusion
Dream is the perfect escape
And I always think
Do dreams really help
As i think yes
Yes they help me  escape reality
Yes they make me smile
But dreams never last
As a bubble they blast
Reality is never sweet
But silly me
I always dream the perfect dream
I always dream the perfect dream ❤️
Eric Babsy Oct 2018
They are rushing furiously across a danger path.
Trying to escape all foes in stark contrast.
Light brightly shining their path.
Escaping giant demons of wrath.

The day of reckoning is over soon.
Precious are the lives of a chosen few.
Above and beyond the swarm cries too.
Just the fleetest will do.

As they were born above the ground.
Crawling toward an evil and also hopeful sound.
Across the ground these demons pound.
The fault of some they found.

Driving their fleeting heart even more.
Kindly they beg the evil and demons who ignore.
High in the clouds the evil soar.
While the hopeful eyes of many are ready to look toward.

As the demons pass.
Steep trouble will find the many at last.
High above the evil gathers it’s strength fast.
Diving from the sky with speed blast.

Some are plucked from the ground by the evil.
It is feast or famine not to cause an upheaval.
Soon few of the many will be safe in their home that is primeval.
What these fleeting few have been through is unbelievable.
Nyx Sep 2018
The bushland calls
Of my childhood dreams
Amongst the wild
My soul it, sings

The gentle breeze
light upon the skin
Sun upon my face
it welcomes me in

To the lands of summers
Though now long gone

Memories of the heats haze
With a white juvenile horse
Within a closed off field it lay
But young and free it was born

Birds flying high above
Shielding the rays of the sky
Perfectly clear a crystal bright blue
Not a single cloud in sight

Fields filled with nothing
But the dirt beneath our feet
Dull patches of green and yellow
Amongst cattle it feeds

A rooster it crows loud
The chooks begin to run
As bruce, a little staffy
Chases them about

Work shed full of tools
Covered by a rusted tin roof
Parked beside it old barrols
And a broken down ute

Stone walls of the house
To keep it cool inside
Spread across the cold floors
A reddish brown cowhide

Worn down leather couch
Out upon the front porch
An eski filled with stubbies
Where the boys had their "talks"

I feel the memories flooding back
This peacefulness, this sense of home
Hours pass by within seconds
Losing myself in the zone

My footsteps have long faded with time
As has my name once carved upon the gumtrees
The white stallion no longer grazes near by
Nor do the same cattle dwell in that field

Worn down by time and way of the land
Though I do intend to return again
To share the beauty of this place
Drawn back by the old fate

The day melts away like the snow
And I hear my parent calling my name
This place will forever be my second home
Because I know here, I'll never be alone
Barmah
The only place I can feel truly free
Under the hot glaze of the sun
Mystic Ink Plus Sep 2018
Let me hear
You are fine there

Hope to see again
Genre: Love
Theme: From Ground Zero, A Day In The History
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