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I want to sleep closer to the sky,
Mark my footprints in the clouds,
Live my dreams without a reason why,
And hold you closer than my thoughts allow.
Chagg Jan 3
There was misery and agony all around,
Everyone was crying the blues with hands clasped,
With body trembling, heart palpitating.
Everyone was trying to engulf the grieve of the loss,
Of the total loss of a loved one.

His spirit is going to meet the deity,
He is going to heaven leaving this mortal bulk and
The thirst of abundance of wealth.
But he is leaving all the unforgettable relationships,
leaving all the immortal memories,
going to last till demise, with all of us alone.

But why to cry, when a loved one is going
To meet the enormous supernatural being?
When his spirit is going to meet the almighty,
When he is leaving all these venial desires, all these Mortal thoughts, leaving this ill world.

Whether to cry our eyes out or to be full of the joys of springs?
Whether to grieve or to rejoice on this event
Of bonding among the spirit and the almighty?
Whether to follow footprints or to make one?
Mystic Ink Plus Nov 2020
If I'm broken up
Every pieces of me
Opens up
Reflecting you
As a fragile
Work of art

Ended up
Author's Note:
I'm an avid writer with the purest form of emotion, yet this ink is fiction.
Poetic T May 2020
Banal breathes,
why must I pressure myself
to do cornfed motions,
                           that serve as life...

I held you in,
tried to suffocate your existence.
But self preservation
          is an inhalation of regrets.

We rob the planet, feeding it our exhaust,
                    a carbon footprint
better off with out..

Sometimes the day to day
                                  bland reasoning,
  out ways the necessity of us.
Two Way Mirror Jan 2020
gliding and sliding  
between two sheets of slippery translucent paper
no friction, no traction, no adhesions
no trace or footprint
closing behind you as you pass
you can live a whole life
striving and trying but
it's as if you were never there
md-writer Sep 2019
One day, in my travels, I found a monument to the forgotten.

I found footprints there, and though they fit my feet, I had no memory of being there before.

One side of the monument was blank, full of words that could not be read.

One side was burnt, and ashes twisted in the mourning breeze.

One side was covered with a sheet.

One side towered high, yet was gone before I fully looked away.

And all around, footprints.

All of them mine.
Mystic Ink Plus Jun 2019
Endless story
Abstract world
Floating thoughts
Forgetting differences
Harmony so tranquil
Whispering wind
That remind me
Of you

But tell me
What do you see,
When you look at me?

Echoes and reflection
Affection submise
Gleam of hope
Truth of life
Essence of you

All at once
Smile aglow
Wax and wane
Everything else fades
When soul is content
Genre: Free Verse
Theme: Proven me wrong
Ilonka Mar 2019
Shadows play pirouettes in my soul
and they reveal unwritten secrets,
the taste of love is lost in a whisper.

I'd like to be your tough wool jacket
that you wear in all the seasons,
you hang me on the half-broken hanger
only when you go to sleep in the middle of the night,
then I smile at you in the morning
when you take me out of the darkness.
I'd like to wear you like my favorite shirt
made of mulberry silk with fine lace buttons,
to feel you at my chest and dance with you
the dance of the common days,

I'd like like you to be the nectar of the Manuka flowers
from which I could feed for the whole year
then I would fly in search of the sunset,

I'd like to be your footprint
on the wet sand of the hot sea
that would take me away in distant worlds,
I'd like to…
Tony Tweedy Mar 2019
How can it be that your words describe what I have seen?
How can the words you write describe the path I have trodden?
Bumps and hills, hurdles, smiles... how do you know them?
Are my thoughts, experiences all so openly seen that you have access?
Were you following, reading minds, perhaps spying or stalking?
Even my thoughts and emotions in precise framing in your words.
Are you me in some other form I have until now never seen?
How can you understand me and know me when we have never met?
You were not there when I lived these things. How can you know them?
Our pathways in different lands, at different times and yet you write me.
How can we share these footprints and yet never meet?
Arisa Mar 2019
shoreline littered

broken shells,

bits of seagrapes,

parts of a dead crab,

and footprints.
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