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misha 1h
you
lift me
up with you
and you take
me to heavens
where no one
has explored

and you show me
the universe
and it's end
oh how much
i'd love to
fly with you
again,

with those
majestic wings
that are
so powerful
that all
the mortals
stop and wonder
what creature
fell to us,
in this hell
down below

and we
all look
up towards the
heavens
and see you,

blocking the sunlight
from us,
giving us shade
from this heat
we thought maybe
you'd watch over us,
cool us down
and guard us

but your
wings are
wings of
the devil.
Emmah 16h
I am just a moth
In a world of butterflies
Nonetheless, I fly.
a blue bird's song—
moving on
accepting, regretting
and slowly it's letting
it's wings fall weak
but still
it soars.

a cardinal's cry—
paint the sky
loving, and hurting
learning, returning;
telling its lies,
too pained to fly.

a sparrow's coo—
adored by moon
running and falling
weeping and calling
the sparrow takes flight
never back from the night.

those wishful birds
silenced words
too thin for their sorrow,
must they pray for tomorrow?
.
.
Show me the way of the world through your eyes
Play me a song on your guitar
Take me back to when I was young and beautiful
Where there were no cares and we were free
I was on cloud nine, you were my forever
Hold on tight, don’t let me fly away
Sing me the lyrics to a love song
Make sure it ends in the key of B
So we can be happy
Even when we’re sad.
Angel 3d
I'm confident, trust me I am,
just when in a new place nothing goes to plan.
I try to approach but still it evokes, a feeling of fear as if I'm going to fall away and never return the same again.

It's hard to trust when I know that I must- I hate being forced into inexplicable sorts- and as sociable as I am, I don't want to make the same mistakes I used to.

I don't want to trust those who'll make me hurt too.

Social anxiety builds when in a situation that you feel you won't make a friend or even an end to the day- a play, the audience sways and you know they want to laugh anyways but God knows you don't want to stay.

Please tell me they won't leave me to lay in my self-dug grave.

Despite my own shock, and mental block, I managed to overcome this shit-stock and socialised- well in my eyes- and am doing just sublime; a lime light I can't fight.

It's as if I've just taken flight for the first time.

But then I think of those who don't have the confifence I have that only grows- I hope they can sore too; within the blue Skys of tranquility.

Knowing that being would others is sometching they can be.

Just be free.
I havent updated in ages and am currently tipsy so I thought I'd let some more feelings spill in writing.
I visited my local garden centre
into the cake filled cafe I popped
bought a coffee and muffin
but with both hands full they nearly dropped

The server asked if I wanted a tray
told her I had enough to carry
the drink spilled a wee bit
I wasn't as happy as Larry

Never know who that Larry is
but he must be bloody annoying
he makes a joke out of everything
bound to become soul destroying

Anyway I wander from my anecdote
from the tangent I will return
to me sitting in the cafe garden
sheltering from fair skin sunburn

I photographed my drink and treat
and posted it on instagram
yer see my life is boring and sad
I watch paint dry on a webcam

10 seconds later a fly divebombed
into my coffee, drowned and sank
clearly a winged hater of social media
it went too far if it was a prank

I ate the muffin but ditched the drink
kamikaze coffee fly gave me the blues
to turn this mundane non event
to become a rhyming muse
A true tale of woe
You and I are one rhyme
together we dance
the ebb and flow of the life.
Every different colour
we got it covered.
The clouds are free to fly
down our sky
changing in as many
colours as they like!
She Writes Sep 13
Fly
You were not forged with wings
To spend your life perched upon a branch
Watching the world pass you by
nishta Sep 8
how time flies
in the blink of an eye
you were gone.
my firefly.
sufjan stevens is my muse.
Standing under the starry sky,
A wolf howls at the crimson moon.
He is old, solitary and shy
He knows his end is coming soon.

The wind smiles as she passes him,
Brushing his hair, kissing his cheek.
Playful as she may seem
She knows he is now weak.

He gazes dreamily at the sky,
Reminiscing the glory days of his life.
If only he could fly
Oh! He would have had a wonderful life.

He wonders as he watches the crimson moon.
He knows that his life is going to end soon.










Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved
I hope you enjoy this poem. As usual I am leaving the interpretation part to you. Happy reading!
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