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what happens after death?
no one really knows.
and honestly --
i don't think
i want to know.

some say
you go to heaven.
or hell.

others like to believe in
the afterlife,
in ghosts,
in wandering,
in haunting what's
left behind.

but me?
i just like to think
its just
that it's a kind of closure.
one thats quiet,
and final.
the kind that doesnt need
to be explained.
death doesn't scare me but losing the people i love does đź’”
date wrote: 10/7
Zywa Jul 7
About everything

I saw, I cry, drowning tears --


in oblivion.
Film "Blade runner" (1982, Ridley Scott, after a novel by Philip K. ****) - Replicant (android) Roy Batty (Rutger Hauer) saves the life of 'blade runner' Rick Deckard, although he will be killed by him afterwards, and says: 'All those moments will be lost in time like tears in rain'

Collection "Pending rain"
sin
My hero's weathered
forehead
My inflictions
stress  of
wrinkly skin
but the focus
is replaced pain
to  numb-ness
of his eyes.
Whistling of whispers
flowing
white of ancient
hair,
memories  like long
forgotten fleets
I come to realize,
Pride replaced
by shame,
and which is
the greater sin?
Who am I?
or I that became.....
Uzziah Ruffin Jun 22
Sitting in silence,
As the hourglass spills its golden grains,
Etching quiet warnings upon the souls in denial
A whisper that time is no eternal friend.

A choice still lingers,
Unmade, like a shadow at dusk
While silver threads replace youthful strands.
Age has no doorway to escape through, and the sand does little to muffle the ache that resurfaces with each turning of the glass.

To look back is to face the wreckage,
To rebuild from embers we once chose to ignore.
But fear looms
Fear that old chains will return
Forged now in guilt, fear, and empathy
Elements far heavier than iron,
Stripping away the illusion of freedom.

A battle brews between vital organs
The heart pleads for what’s right,
The mind demands what’s wise.
Yet the line that once divided them
Fades like breath on glass,
Too blurred to tell apart.

How long can indecision linger
Before the choice is taken
From hands still warm with life?
This poem is a rather personal one for me. It's the consequences of being a SA victim and losing a entire family due to years of being silent and pretending that everything is fine just to keep branches on the family tree attached. But the place that was once called home was always looked at as a prison. The poem is about making the decision to go back into a life of isolated feelings and self destructive to have a family, or to stay free while the mind and the heart fight to tell you to make the right/smart decision
asna May 31
they thought it was a song of an angel
it was far away
they'll never know it was a scream of pain
from far away
they don't care even if it's angel
dying in melancholy
...........................M.I.Fathima Asna
Charmour May 24
She who is afraid of sharp things
Who's afraid of needle
Who's afraid of being physically hurt
Who's afraid of getting cuts
Who cries on the smallest invisible cut
Who tries to protect herself from getting hurt
Who can't stand blood
Who's afraid of dying
Who wants to live
Who wants to explore
Who wants to be lively
Who wants to be happy
Who finds happiness in the smallest things
Is now c*tting herself
Just to know that she's alive
Just to know she isn't dead
Just to feel relieved
Just to escape her life
Just to bleed all the pain out
I was made by the wind
and the wind come carry me
carry me to the place where I belong
carry me cross a field
carry me cross the floor
from my birth to my grave when I'm gone
carry me by golden leaves
carried by an ocean breeze

I was lit by a flame
and by flame you will take me
to the beyond I will follow you
By a leap from my heart
out of the darkest of nights
to the brightest of days
I will embrace you
and kiss you farewell

I was born from a wave
a wave of love and labour
when I was washed ashore
you pulled me out
and I slept on your brest
my hands grew a hide
as I looked deep into you

I was brought to this earth
as a seed of life
as I buried my hands in the ground
I would wait for you to grow
into a beautiful being
reaching into the sky
with your green arms
to catch these last rays
of golden light
from a setting sun

I was kissed by the sun
with arms of golden light

I was shaped from the tears
running down my face
as I have to say goodbye to you my friend
You had a home in my heart
I only saw you in flashes
in the in-between

I was kissed by the sun
with arms of golden light
Cheyenne Apr 25
I feel Hollow.
Barren.
Empty.

That hollowness erodes my body,
leaving a trail of decay.
Cracks crawl through my brittle bones,
shattering my skull,
fragmenting my thoughts.

A carmine-colored river floods into my caving lungs,
before dragging itself up my throat.
The metallic taste slowly overwhelms my mouth,
and seeps through my gapped teeth.
My glass smile falls and shatters.

Terror grips what was once my voice,
holding sound captive-
my call for help erased by despair.
Only strangled sobs exist.
I'm left choking on my own life force.

Each sob collects upon my face;
a veil of tears cover my broken visage.
Shrouding me from prying eyes that encompass judgemental gazes.

Without even seeing,
their stares spear my soul and blacken my heart.
The forgotten, grayed ash
smothers out all that remains.

My rotted husk: a void, a dismal skeleton.
A vast emptiness that nothing can fill.

Broken.
Decayed.
Hollow.

It's what I am.
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