Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I stood in the meadow
Looking towards the window
A picture emerged
I knew what it was
Yet I couldn't decipher
I moved towards the window
The picture did grow
A painting of a lush green meadow
It was hanging on the wall
No one standing
At the window
No one standing
In the meadow
Cows were missing
Birds were missing
In the meadow
She was missing
At the window
Missing were so many things
I was on the fringe
In the  middle of the meadow
Dry and burnt meadow
Looking towards the window
She was missing
At the window
Raven Feels Jul 1
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, have a great July!

goodness is virtue
rage is essence when realization is new
hearts entrenched
them those called sensations melted a bench

memories tainted in dark
reminiscent somewhere in the background park
violins ached for the winter sky
on a hope it would just snow the ghosted July

their flesh burnt
mercurial whispers churned a hurt
dilapidates already fallen
feels of away returned from the stolen

wise in me I confess
to not believe a belong is a bless
visions confuse
perplexed deprived of a twinkle muse

my pen writes
then paper welcomes once and thrice
orchestra chimes
in time to spill the wine

Wish I could swallow back my words,
To make things right I guess.
But you're busy fulfilling your wish,
Turn my words & set them on flames...
Making things between us more insane.
Was buried under things I never mentioned,
So how could've I stayed...?
After you lit that match over my intentions.
Spriha Kant Dec 2020
Circumstances crushed hopes and new hopes rose from the ashes of burnt desires.
John McCafferty Jun 2020
An irreverent force
armed in localised wars
Flames of rage displayed in waves
Some strings attached
to bring about more force
Shattered glass and burnt bricks
won't fix what a voice is worth
But irrelevance when oppressed
blinded with contempt seeks to vent
So many mistakes are blamed to
create what is made of the states
Powers that be have a responsibility
to assist those in need without them bending the knee
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
Poetic T May 2020
Were the pancakes,
       and corona

is the syrup

lets spread it like
we eating out..

And were lungs are burnt...

I'll never eat out...

But ill wash my hands
           every time your
  cough pops up...
lua Apr 2020
Chest falls as smoke rises
Up into the air
The memory of a past
Long forgotten
Buried under a mountain of ash
Scrap metals, old wood
And photographs burnt at the corners.
all but a faint, distant memory.
Enigmatic Apr 2020
Her trust in you is as good as an empty tank headed south
She won't use the rearview mirror headed far from you
What she leaves behind remains no concern to her burnt out heart
Eyes on the first exit out of here
The highway is her only vision, burying your bones
This is her farewell
JS Mar 2020
your kiss
burnt my lips
bruised my limbs
set me on fire

your look
shook my core
tore me apart
ignited my desire

i leave
my memory branded
stranded without you
waiting by the shore
Next page