alone, bringing my story two steps ahead
not bothered with what others have to say
moving away from things I like and dislike
not thinking anymore about wrong and right
becoming at once distant
knowing nothing will remain constant
not for a longer stretch

Staying away from all the noise
trying to hear my inner voice
tapping into my inner conscience
listening to the beats and melodies
of a huge universe without us

There is a place still somewhere
where no one cares
a peaceful shaded shed
where no thoughts take over
the fake happiness soon comes clear
and so do the inane sadness
they do not matter, much.

The equal forces
tied at the both ends of our soul
untying all the strings
breathing the beats of bliss
the end of the life as we cease to be
from what we had to be
Mystic Ink Mar 8
I’m selling my soul
Let no bidder, intervene
No inquiry entertained
Theme: Spiritual Abstract
Note: selection will be through conscience
i don't like sleeping alone,
so i slept with my conscience;
how many rights have i wronged?
it echoed through my skull.
tonight i am restless.

i don't like sleeping alone,
so i slept with my insecurities;
again, i am rattled by a question,
will i ever be enough?
tonight i lie awake.

i don't like sleeping alone,
so i slept with my anxiety;
it grabbed my heart in its hands,
and told me:
so many things are wrong.
tonight i could not breathe.

i don't like sleeping alone,
so i slept with my guilt;
it had no query, but it kept me up:
i have wronged many people.
tonight no sleep came.

i don't like sleeping alone,
so i slept with loneliness;
hearing the pitter-patter of footsteps,
sonder seeping in my bones,
tonight i rest in echoing silence.
bones of truth
rattle in the cupboard
and they make for
a most disconcerting
like as if the conscience
of past foul deeds
are awakening
to be relived

they who hear the bones
being haunted throughout life
the rattling in the mind
that petrifying fife

no key keeps
them suppressed
ever they'll
wish to be heard
and the possession
of them
so unsettling
the beholders
Simpathi Feb 19
Writing down words,
Left from deception,
Finding no worth,
From lack of connection.

Finding my sight,
But losing my strength,
Feeling its bite,
Breathing its hate.

Pain is still there,
It never deceases,
Leaving me bare,
Always to feed it.

Some use their swords,
To fight their own battles.
I build my fort,
Riding life’s saddle.

My mind’s a warzone,
I’m constantly fighting,
Not trying to own,
I’ve lost my own sighting.

Pain finds its way,
Down to my bone,
It screams out my fate,
But never will show.
I started writing this in class because I was so troubled by my own imaginary deception.
You are calling
and I just keep staring
my heart resonates
to the vibration of the ringing phone.

My eyes are hazzy
My mind is fuzzy
I don't know what to say
For I fear I will make a fool of myself
leaving to end the conversation
on an awkward note.

The call ends
I breathe
to calm my nervous nerves.

I call back
only to find myself stutteringg
and being overly conscience
with every word I say
dreading to have called
as the call ends.
This is a poem based on a true event of having anxiety when someone was calling.

Full of regret,
I came to you,
never thought that I needed you.

Full of shame,
I told you all,
from my triumphs down to my falls.

Full of tears,
my heart ached;
I was full of madness and hate.

Full of angst—
my heart as of now,
I didn't know I can remove it somehow.


Full of hope,
you've shed me light,
as if I didn't know what was right.

Full of fakery,
I put up an act,
thinking you would mix up fiction from fact.

Full of confusion,
you were telling me that
you always knew every little fact.

Full of strength,
I muster up skills
to continue pretending even if it kills.
written 3 June 2015. also known as the truth behind what happened to my youth. I'm eternally sorry. (sometimes.)
The lute of my heart
Sways to sweet tunes
Come,o come
Glorious conscience
The song filled
Lotus garden
Of my heart awaits you
O one who stays
In realms unknown
Holding the lute(veena)
Of my conscience
In her hand
Under her control
Not only is she the
Manifestation of
Ambrosia filled
But the sacred
Goddess of the word
By whose divine touch
What surrounds her
Is blessed with such goodness!
Her very image
Is like the glory
Of light
Of a diamond
The beauty
Of the dreaming
Eyes of a deer
O somewhere
That radiance
Does reside
In my heart's place
By the presence of whom
This day and this night
Are sweet to enchant
To their heart's glory
O the fragrant enchanting
Touched by the honey
Of the cuckoo's song
O show yourself
O goddess
In this radiant glory
Let my eyes
Be blessed
Once by
Your divine grace
O do not
Reside anymore
In the realm
Of my mind
Under the veil of
Shadowy illusion
Manifest yourself,o Devi
Let your grace enlighten me!!
To one who is fair
Like the kunda flowers adorning her
Who is adorned by white clothes
Whose hands are always
In a posture of benevolent grace
Who sits on the white lotus
vanessa ann Jan 22
“You should have seen the way you looked at him,”
I heard my conscience whisper.


“Like he was a black hole.
And you,
a cluster of bright stars,
cannot wait to be sucked whole.”
i want you to ruin me
Look at what you did
Said the Ego to the Id,
Have you no Conscience?
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