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The sun, handsome in a blazing golden striped suit
The birds and busy bees sip on the nectar from the colourful flowers
The trees sway to the sweet song of the breeze
The Koel happy and ***, sings its sweet song in May
My eyes wait for a glimpse of the elusive bird
Know not its form or feathers, hidden in the trees
Sings a rhythmic sweet song from dawn to dusk
Have recorded the voice of this bird, starts as early as 5 in the morning, also,  can be heard singing past sunset :)
My recklessness was my belief in
if you love me or you want me to give it a try.
"It does not depend on “Love Grows" in one's heart.
It's should be the love of God to us and it's should be bold as death...
I am always restless
When I am trying to love you.
No No No
It's when I want you to love me.
It hurts because
I couldn’t ***** your code.
It hurts because
I gave mine out foolishly
It hurts because
I don't know how to wait for such…love to grow.
I risk everything because This is my ultimate risk of them all.
No Insurance Premium
Thanks Wihelmina Randall for the Prefect Heading.
KM Hanslik Jan 14
The glass is not half full today,
it is simply overflowing.
My pulse is not in my chest, it's in my ears
the sun is not in the sky, it's in my eyes
my eyes are pressing notes onto yellow rough pages,
fingers fumbling, occasionally misguided;
aimlessly scratching what I am
(what am I?),

but it's not just fluff and clouds here, there's a soft and shallow tune playing in the corners;
it follows my footsteps wherever I go and hides in my shadow, elusive, and I
have never heard of such a thing from any text or book,
but I am yearning now and I have come to believe in phantoms that lurk
in silence waiting for subtle signals,
things we may never identify
in neither origins or nature,
but we open our doors and our hearts to them anyway;
we feel their heavy tug under our skin and we are restless
but we must be patient;

This is me in the doorway,
waiting with my arms at my sides and my socks getting ***** from the dust on the floor,
this is me standing in the doorway
and the drink in my hand is not full, it is spilling
all over me like time in a bowl
like words in my throat;

and there is me, quietly,
tea stained wet socks, a bright smile
and there is me, patiently,
patiently waiting.
Mister J Dec 2018
Surrounded by walls
Clinging for dear life
Emotions in conflict
Claustrophobia ensues

I'm losing myself
In this battle for endurance
I'm trying to hold on
Vying for your elusive heart

Your eyes contradict
What your lips blurt out
Your here inches away
Yet the distance an ocean's length

You abhor the thought
Of getting me hurt
And yet your actions
Hurt me constantly

You are an enigma
Yet to be solved
And yet you hold my heart
At the palm of your hands

You surround yourself
In my warm embrace
Yet your life is a shadow
I have yet to see

So here I am
Trying to cross that ocean
In between us
Trying to break your walls

I pray for constant guidance
In taking on this long journey
A journey few men could endure
To tame a wild and evasive love

I pray for constant strength
To brace myself for the coming storm
To hold steadfast and keep chasing
The girl who haunts my dreams

I pray for Love to blossom
Between the hunter and the hunted
I pray for blaring passion
To burn the walls you've built

Someday I will cross this ocean
No matter how long and how far
I will keep my aching head cool
And my wanting heart holding on

Please remember me
Once you tell yourself
That you want to fall
In love again
Happy Reading!

Abby M Dec 2018
The elusive redbug crawls in men's veins
In men alive and men just slain
A single needle draws it out
A *****, a drip, and then it sprouts
noren Nov 2018
The posers won't cease
to nag you
And the answers
will not be forthcoming.

Let the endless questions
catch your conscience
and let the answers
remain elusive.

It is in these whirlwinds of thoughts
that you will finally realise
the necessity to forget the unknown future
and the futility to remember the harboured past.
Wynn H Nov 2018
The day drags on
As I count the hours,
Watching them drift on by.
Day by day…

Waiting for that ever elusive
Last hour of the day,
that beckons
For the drive home.

But, the closer
I get to that
Ever elusive hour,
The more I begin
To dread the drive home.

The fear of helpless loneliness
With only myself
As companionship awaits…

A fear,
That only alcohol can quench
                          Until tomorrow…
When we start this process
All over again

When will the hurting stop?

[soon soon]
Brynn S Nov 2018
What has literature become?
Mockery of the new age
They spit on the graves of former writers
They take their names and drag it through mud
Disgrace, distaste
Nothing fuels the flame
The elusive spark as died
We all try to grasp at fame
Only few may succeed
In comparison we falter
We are the ****** ones
left to pray at the alter
lX0st Oct 2018
His transient touch
Taught me to love
Elusive hands embraced
Inverted beneath skin's layers,
A plastic pin point impression
That prickly sensation
Lasted for years
Hollowed hands turned every touch
Into white noise
Soft static buzzing eardrums
Burrowed deep beneath
Old memories, sneaking in
Through dopamine
Vibrating neurons numb
Until I can't sleep
Temporal Fugue Jul 2018
Happiness just dots upon the slate
wandering life for marks of chalk
for true happiness we wait
whether we run or we walk

We stress and my god do we worry
over matters both large and small
our joy coming in flurries
anticipating the times when it calls

All of our lives seen as lines
with all it's skip marks and fears
measured in bliss for those times
holding each other so dear

Grasp them whether their old or new
and etch the marks in your mind
rare and precious and few
hoarding every one that you find
It reminds me that there are fewer times of joy in life, than there are toils and pain. So I'll remember the signs, and relish the joy, that remains.
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