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Seema Sep 2017
Fuming flames heat my soul
Wrenched heart, bleeds in cold
Grey like ashes, spots of coal
Sold in a market at a price of gold

Many eyes throw in lashes of dirt
My buyer, I hope comes next
Rude comments and filthy flirt
Reasonable price, I am put on best

A marked price, highlighted in bold
Unaware of petty obsession
To whom am being sold
Like an ownership possession

My fate gave me the love I hungered for
Now a queen of my masters heart
No more cries or tears I pour
My master is a man of a zillion heart...


©sim
Inspired by a painting, I saw online :)
Alaska Sep 2017
Her personality shown through her hair,
                                                                      golden and
                                                                            pure.
Seema Sep 2017
My eyes unfolds
What is seen
Yet untold
For the mysteries
It secretly holds
I have yet to mould
My heart to be bold
To reveal the cold
A truth, unspoken
To talk about it
Is to break, what's broken
But its a burden to hold
The clay sage, has eyes of gold
I've seen it, in the nights cold
The clay sculpture
Made by the potter
Grew an inch shorter
I am too scared to tell
None will believe me
And thus, they will sell
I don't know if it's a good omen
But this is unusually uncommon
I need to find out who else has seen
Perhaps together we can gleam
The mystery behind the golden eyes
Or am I just hallucinating and threading the lies
One way to find out that I am still sane,
Tonight I shall unveil the truth behind this game...


©sim
Fictional

Goodnight all....that's all for today...too many stories spilling off my mind. Got to put myself to sleep ;)
K Balachandran Aug 2017
A fruit, tasting truly different, it was what I needed,
because in every bite, it satiated my desire, inexpressible
I climbed to the top branch of the fruit tree and
plucked the most sun drenched juicy one gleaming.

But it didn't put out the fire raging in my heart, though
the sweet fruit made me withdraw and be quiet
for a short while and then I went in search of another
when it dawned on me that it's a rare root, with
magical effects, that the nomads collect from hidden woods,
and it is the stuff used at the  dead of night for alchemy
the chemical work that makes even the cheapest metal gold!

I went seeking a girl,who was described in revelations--
her bewitching beauty, haunting eyes and the songs she sung
promised many things to my heart and I couldn't sleep
after the time I met  fleetingly, that seductive dame.
She was from a world different, her heart was unlike
any one else's I have known, yet I told her I still do search,
as it was a puzzle still, why beauty beacons me !

The black forest winds and waters, the flowers everywhere,
I needed to be alone with myself, when my heart stirred,
heard a little bird chirping that said" You make me calm,
where did you find the poem you just read aloud?"
Suddenly I have woken up from the dream I had fallen into,
eyes lit with beauty, munching a fruit, my favorite
book of poetry in hand,I went to my love, to read it aloud
to her and mull the beauty together, get rejuvenated.
Harry Roberts Aug 2017
Molten Gold
His touch
A wanton hold.

He chases away blizzards
Brings fire
Stands against vipers and lizards.

My man is a God
And I'll dance for eternity
Brotherhood, love & fraternity.
Short and sweet. Hope the message is clear.
rogue Aug 2017
watch as your whole world crumbles.
the air you breathe turns to gold.
and you choke as it forces its way
down your throat and into your lungs.

tell me midas, was it worth it?

that midas touch.
your daughter, trapped in a golden suit, doesn't seem to think so.
Malik I Lopez Aug 2017
...as she stepped inside the old,
torn cabin;
Her first glimpse astonished her.
Gold surrounded the adobe, in pounds.
As if, an alchemist had hid there for decades,
and had suddenly fled..
She wondered,
Why it must have been, that such a person would choose to flee, a place oozing in riches..
In the middle of the room, in a golden round table laid a crippled note that read:
Gold, does not transform to love.



Malik I. Lopez
Chief Operating Officer
[Excerpt from Novel in Progress: Bridges to the Infinite]
MALIK ENTERPRISES, INC
2017
www.instagram.com/wordsbymalik
Benjamin Bauda Aug 2017
We daily toil, spoil and sometimes boil
Yet it’s still not enough
We cry, mourn, **** and curse
Cause we couldn’t get enough of it
We frown, hide and tell lies
Because we think we don’t have what others think we have in abundance

Call it dollar, name it naira
Whether pounds or shillings
Yen or euro, money or gold
It’s still not and will never be enough

Everyone wants to be a millionaire
The millionaire wants to be a billionaire
The billionaire wants to be a multi billionaire
From the poorest to the richest
We are all searching
For that piece of paper and metal that is never enough

Like the ground that is never tired of feeding on us
So we daily feed on money
And still yet want more money
For we can’t get enough of this thing we love so dearly


It is never enough
And will never be enough
For it was meant never to be enough
So give what you can
Save all you can
Eat what you can
And thank God for all you have
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