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cait Mar 2017
i don't believe in religion.
but if you believe that jesus
was resurrected.
that eve was created in
adam's image.
that moses parted the red sea.

that a woman cannot love a woman
without sinning.

then i will not bother you
with my love.

does that make me a sin?
or a temptation?

you say that religion is a blessing.
but for me

it's a ******* curse.
I apologize to those who find comfort in religion, but it has only played keep away with my heart.
Mysidian Bard Feb 2017
As I walk the streets of this old town
footsteps of the past are retraced;
though I look upon it with brand new eyes
every place still has your face.

The wind will always carry your voice,
words echoing on the breeze,
like whispers in the gathering dark
between the cemetery trees.

Fragmented memories of a tortured past
are just riddles without clues.
Haunted are these same old streets
by the apparitions of you.
Mihir Kulkarni Jan 2017
The night had started to flow over the brim
I struggled to stay afloat with all my might,
Caressed in her arms I woke up in a dream
Realizing my tired reality had lost the fight.

She resembled the north star in her poise
The smile on her rose-lips could calm a storm,
Curiosity of life in her gazelle brown eyes
Rekindled a fire in my soul that I’d forlorn.

My eyes were closed shut, but heart wide open
It transpired the unconditional love of ours,
Blindly chasing a moon I’d forgotten the sun
The alluring eclipse had proven to be my curse.

The morning rays barged in unannounced
Quickly they pulled me back from the dream,
With a passion in my head and heart, I pounced
To find her and in that, the purpose for my being.
Sometimes I lose the touch of the ground when I'm chasing the sky. Only when I stumble and fall, things come into a perspective. For good.
Similar is true for love I've experienced. When I stop searching, it comes to me.
This one is for the girl who smiled when I'd given up hope.
Mark Ipil Dec 2016
I have story to be told,
I have passion to be bold,
The power may be old,
But the truth must unfold.

I don’t want you to tell,
The story of how I fell,
It’s my reality to sell,
No need for you to yell.

No matter what you say,
I’m always here to stay,
Let everything be gray,
Let me be the one to pay.

In the end of this long sail,
The curse must be sealed,
No one is allowed to feel,
The great power I conceal.
P.S. This is my curse.
Alienpoet Dec 2016
In the dragons cave filled with treasure.  
with a warning you did not heed
eyes of blue become green eyes with slits
as the curse of the dragon hits.  
Your heartbeat racing faster than ever before
sweat drips from every pore
skin becoming scaly and green.
Blackened claws burst through fingernails
legs and arms flail about
sickening crunches as bones grow and reform
the storm the rage of fiery dragons breath
forms in your lungs
burning all things in your path
as you exhale with a roar
horns pierce through skin and scales
break through your forehead
It hurts even more
as your jaw breaks and moves forward
into a reptile form
teeth lengthen and grow sharp
muscles expand and strengthen
tendons stretch and lengthen
nostrils flare
caught within the glare
of the mirror the witch put there
in the dragons cave
you won't be a slave
anymore as you seek vengeance
from her and the other humans
forevermore.
Àŧùl Dec 2016
Come, my love, let's sleep.
Not just for few hours,
Not for many hours,
Not even for some weeks,
And not even for merest months.
Let's sleep altogether for years,
Let's sleep for many centuries.

Come, my love, let's hibernate.
Not forgetting immortality,
Not practising immorality,
Not overlooking modesty,
And just sleep together holding tight.
Like we do when cold descends,
Let's go to our sleep mode.

Come, my love, let's snooze.
Not just for few more seconds,
Not just for some more minutes,
Not just for bit more hours,
And kindle the dream in the long night.
Like we did when curse worked,
Let's go to our carefree world.
HP Poem #1332
©Atul Kaushal
Maria Etre Dec 2016
A writer's
worst curse
comes in the
form
of apathy
and that my darlings
is the worst kind
of death
Charlotte Nov 2016
But my knuckle bones run cold,
When your eulogy is told,
Darling haunt me,

Find me in the arms,
Of your silver charm,
Sweetheart curse me,

With your foreign love,
The raven and her dove,
The fever of the ******,

Stone the valentine,
In my soft decline,
From a Judas Romance,

Paint me in your eyes,
In the blue I'll never die,
My assassin lover,

Portrait of pure art,
Mosaic antique heart,
Powerless once more,

Curse of the Sublime,
ignorant to time,
paradise mortality.
Broken Nov 2016
Memories, cruel and vivid.
Every detail of a life once lived.
Of the happily ever after that once existed.
When a ring and my heart were her gifts.
I can remember every moment.
Of every single day.
The gift of a beautiful memory.
Yet a price there is to be paid.
Those moments will never leave me.
Forever imprisoned in my brain.
The most beautiful moments live on.
In my mind over and over replayed.
But I've found beauty hurts the worst.
Because in the beautiful I still feel her.
Reminded of the home I once had to go to.
Our love once alive, now lay burned.
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