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Shounak Jul 22
The dew on the moist leaves,
The gleaming orange in the sky,
The tiny chirper on the branch,
would all be seen for the last time

cancer came knocking at the door,
asking for nothing but his eyes,
life from now on wouldn't be the same,
putting in the glass ones of size

He looked at his parents one last time,
capturing their young but smiling faces,

He would cherish those faces forever,
For they're immortal, against the stride of time
The capture of those smiles, now with him forever.
No matter how old they get, they'll forever remain young.
Emily Apr 7
the first time we met
you were daisies.

fragile
thin
soft
sweet

laughing in rain

running in wildflowers

resting there too

...then you were gone.

the next time
you were roses.

robust
sturdy
reserved
beautiful

running from the world

playing broken pianos

living in empty castles

...then you were gone.

the third time
you were violets.

delicate
cheerful
royal

drinking bitter petal tea

watching stars

dressing in diamonds

...then you were gone.

a fourth
a fifth
a sixth

i find you again
again
again

it's all different
every time.

but you never remember.

not me.

not until your last moments.

...and so it repeats.

eternally
inspired by "immortal" by reinaeiry. (an immortal falls for the same soul over and over again)
Lee Aaun Mar 24
just to become someone
who never get hurts;
i try to become an  i m m o r t a l
who lives long,
without feeling sad
to say goodbye to those
who was once standing by his side
my wish to be happy
My vivid dream 28th Feb 2020

Since the perception of time, ancient malevolent entities; have been filling our souls with 'want'.
Collectively this 'want' forms the material world, which serves to suppress the inner spark; the energy contained within the human soul.

Good souls gradually struggle free from the confines of 'want' or the material world, thus releasing and returning the inner spark to the origin of light.

Dark souls remain within the material world reborn as the 'Dark-echo' continues to expand the physical universe, thus slowly terraforming the multiverse into a single living entity

Dark matter is the fabric of life, and the womb of the dark soul.

The origin of light is a place of contentment beyond the perception of any fearful, material being; clinging to mortality.

That's why freeing oneself from the confines of the material world, and returning to the 'origin of light, is a leap of faith.
The multiverse, and the fear of loss explained to me in a dream.
Payton Feb 24
The moon poured over the
       moors
                     and the night-birds
howled                through the wind.
The stars shuddered in their
midnight sky                  and whispered his
name amongst themselves.

He could do nothing but swallow
his tears in her memory.
This poem was written in 2016. It is inspired by Sebastian James Fairfax from Gillian Shield's Immortal series.
Sabika H Dec 2020
I watch the sun rise
And the moon descend,
Over and over
Again and again.

What was once
Bright and vibrant
Has become dull and dim,
Even time ages,
Yet I remain still therein.

When the Earth burns
And the stars collapse,
I'll float alone in the dark,
My eyes roll back in my skull,
I am lifted up high,
But I'll never fall.

I watch the sun rise,
And the moon descend,
Death following death,
Over and over,
Again and once again
You are convinced
Your life has meaning
Because you still haven't witnessed,
Time
Die.
Imagine if you were immortal.
To my soul, aspire to be immortal
& exhaust all things possible, be
selfish & ruin death of it’s act.
To the soul find out what makes
existence worth the trouble.
But my soul, dare not become
a God nor muse.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H4C4spEgk_I&t=195s
AceLione Nov 2020
The sweat streaming down my eye brow
Looking at the arrow in my ankle that was shot by Paris' bow
Oh my briseis, please don't cry
My shield and spear are always yours as i point it at the sky
Zeus, you have blessed me with immortality but oh i am cursed
All my life i've been killing men for another's thirst
Finally my chains have been broken, i can breathe
This cold feels nice, my sword at last in it's sheath
K Balachandran Sep 2015
And when at last she fell asleep,
For my sweetheart i kept vigil.
Synching my life breath,
With her rhythmic heart beats,
For her I wrote,this song.
But she couldn't listen, not even once,
Though only for her I weaved it.

Night had her rendezvous with dawn,
At the end of her painful journey with little light,
My love left without a word, never to return
To gift me that lingering,tantalizing, sweet pain,
That makes me real; keeps the lover in me alive.

My orphaned song of doomed love,
Lost all it's meaning at that moment.
Like a lover who lost way to the rendezvous,
It kept on knocking my door, ever after.
In the insistent beating of the sea waves' passion
I heard my lost song ringing once again.
On a night the melancholy moon,went hiding.
I sat alone soaked in pain and sang my song.
It made me melt, I deeply felt,nature too sang along,
In a frenzy, I never ever did witness before.
Then, the pale moon, on an apparel in transparent cloud,
Danced forgetting all her pain , that found expression in many ways.

I now realize,that song wasn't just mine,
It has a life of it's own,in tongues it spoke.
Day and night to lovers, jilted, all those lost by mistake,
Now, it has a life of it's own, independent from all
Anywhere it  would  go alone.

                             I wrote a song, for none in particular,
                             Soon did I realize, it speaks to all pain filled hearts,
                            Love created the wistful mood,
                            My time alone with her filled the words.
                             And one day everyone who heard
                             This song sung,  will leave, but the song won't.

                            The night air will be filled with it's mute waves of pain,
                           On it the distant stars will float.
                            The wind will hum it,the interstellar space,
                            Will echo, it's cadence aloud.
                            Neither the words would  fade
                           Nor my passion for her ever would die.
Maja Oct 2020
I want to be immortal
I want to be remembered

The day I’m forgotten
Is the day I die
Inspired by "Glorious"
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