Behold,
the paradise
beyond,
where you
see the
sun, and
It's light
only
reflects
the fairer
In radiance,
where
In the
deepest
silence,
As the
light
behind
a cloud,
you
rise to
the places
unseen

Wordsinalign Apr 14

Souls collapsed in a darkness that blanketed the starless sky,
Giving up on humans that sold us life’s biggest lie.
Everyone loved exploring the sun when it was out,
but when darkness settled in, their minds grew in doubt;
No one wants to swim the waves, when jaws came out to play.
Everyone falls in love with rainbows,
we are all colourblind that’s the way love goes.
Love left her once but she’d imagine it over and over again,
contaminated her brood and they declared her insane.
She scribbled a few tattoos that symbolised the love she has tasted,
but they only spoke half the story of her love gone wasted.
Dead clouds painted on a wall at night,
she illuminated flaws in the daylight.
Her darkness was worth exploring,
her tear-tainted eyes daren’t ignoring.
They spoke of her in past tense,
she wrote blurred lines in all defence.
With dry cheeks in the summer sun,
she cried blood until there was none.
Little cotton puffs painted in silver outline,
she smudged colours onto clouds that died in a line.
How it played out in real life versus how it danced in her head,
her love would never return back from the dead.

Dev Singh Mar 18

Soar high above the clouds,
And reach up for the sky;
Where dreams are everything,
And everything is you and I.

Remi Leroy Mar 6

Running after you
Is like chasing after clouds,
But still I run
Because it’s the clouds which give me rain;
Rain that is refreshing from the scorching sun,
Rain which is my lullaby on nights when I can’t sleep.
And it’s these clouds which are made of the water from earth;
The water which gives life, rejuvenating, reviving.
Even if I can’t reach you,
Even if I’m down here and you’re up there,
I chase after you.
Even if I can’t reach you,
Even if I can’t ever reach you,
I want to be near you.
Because you, my cloud, give me life
And being near you is enough.

14.08.08

Maybe it's just because I'm bleeding inside
Or it's because I'm no body and cannot be found
Or it's the bad luck that is always by my side
Or it's the wound that hurts and won't subside
Or it's the skies that never rains nor have a cloud
Or it's my green fields that I love but never find
Or maybe it's just who I am, a man with no pride

© Copyright
Abdullah Ayyash
March 3rd, 2017
Buddy T Mar 1

what a pretty sky
on a pretty day
not a cloud in the sky  
the sun beams down

a single cloud
on a pretty day
alone
the sun beams down

perhaps I am the cloud
alone by myself
never surrounded by peers
a spot of paint

perhaps you are the sun
with me
pulling me up
hugging me

the universe turns
with you
orbiting a centerpiece
we can't name

a lone cloud
on a pretty day
no other in the sky
the sun beams down

another cloud apears
no more loners
in the sky
the sun beams down

perhaps you are the sun
and I am the cloud
how do you feel
I am not with you

the universe turns
you tear me apart
we grow big
you grow dark

rain in the sky
on a windy day
so many cloud in the sky
no sun beams

perhaps I am the clouds
and you are the sun
I move on
you continue to turn

a pretty sky
on a pretty day
no cloud in the sky
the sun beams down

the sun beams on
the universe turns
the sun beams on
the sun beams

it was a pretty day today
M Harris Feb 27

Spectral & Whites,
She shoots liquid kryptonite,
Forming civil twilights,
Lighting up satellites,

Effusive she moves in crowds,
Vetting the loud,
Entombing in her vortex clouds,
Fiction stitched exclusive to her shroud,

Translucent transcendence,
Sinking in ascendance,
Obscured abundance,
Her celestial dependence,

Mutating sacraments,
Dissolving electrolytic laments,
Decaying she resents,
Her serene blood stains,
Choking reckless intents,

Torrential far cry,
Of her desecrated lullabies,
Edging serrated highs,
Triggering sulphur lies,

Profanity in her transmits,
Photonic duality she emits,

Fluttering in trance,
Her psychopathic stance,
Initiating empathetic dance,


Seductive incandescence,
Buffering her schizophrenic vehemence,
Veiling the era of repentance,
By unveiling spiritual severance,
And pseudo sacrosanct irreverence,

The future’s here,
Nuclear souvenir,

She past my prime,
When the evidence realigned,
Confiscating her downtime,
She committed my crime,


Make amends… We are designed to be outlived….

03:22AM

Hannah Feb 27

I'm up in the sky,
and everything is fine.
I'm higher than life,
I'm riding cloud nine.
I'm sleeping while awake,
and stepping over mines.
I'm pushing my body,
and crossing the line.
It's the feeling I chase,
when the ketamine is fine.
I get out my plate,
and rack out a line.
It puts me to sleep,
and feels better than wine,
but it leaves me hollow,
and empty in mind.
It's the come down that hurts,
when I'm dead inside.
It's a vicious cycle
in the addicts mind.
It's always one more.
It's always the last time.
It's easy to say,
as I rack out a line,
and easy to forget,
once I'm high in the sky.
It's the devils words,
those two little lines.
There's no such thing,
when I'm riding cloud nine.

~ for anyone that is strugging with drug addiction.
~for my friends & my family, that are trapped in the addicts mind.
cait-cait Feb 27

i see myself:

a
little tiny girl,
tear stained, broken..
.
pressed up against a glass
window that some might
call
a mirror,

and
submerged like a castle
in a fish tank, i
watch the way
that
little me swims
above
pretty little rainbow beads
and
picks at affection,
somehow
dropped from
the sky..
.

its
blue, pink, and
green;
and
there's a face in the clouds:

like rain, i
cry. looking down at
what once was..
.

and i remember why
that little girl
died.

whenever i recall my abuse i always feel like im looking through a glass window into a tank full of water or vice versa and it's a strange feeling.
Angie S Feb 19

dont ask me where i am;
dont ask about the view from the peak,
how it feels to brush shoulders with the clouds
like passersby on the street, dont ask about
how delicious the air tastes in my lungs.
i am not there, not there yet. see,
i stand not as an omniscient god,
presiding over my special throne, but as a
mortal traveler, muddy and sweaty,
seeking fulfillment, and always hiking forwards.
my compass pumps blood through me and
one day it will fail and my journey will end,
but for the time being i hike.
ask me how my heels are bruised, how my
back curves, misshapen, from the weight of
my aspirations. ask me the number of times
i crashed onto the icy earth, her gravity
dragging me, but always stood again
because i am stubborn.
ask me if the freezing air chills my frostbitten fingers anymore
and pains my chest to hold. and please
ask me where i am going; ask where after all this time
my heart finds warm blood to keep it beating, and
what i hope to see at the peak of this mountain.
ask about my failures, my successes,
and how my hike draws as much inspiration
in the journey as it does the destination.

talent probably doesn't actually exist.
everyone is born at the bottom of the mountain,
talent is what we see when we see other travelers
who have climbed higher than we have.

im trying to catch up in more than a few areas
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