Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
justine grace Apr 2018
He wandered,
The chosen path,
Where he took an oath,
That life will never take a toll on him again.

However,
His thoughts lingered,
To his last lover,
Her tenderness,
Her longing touch,
The memories
That felt like home.

It was misery,
Absolutely tormenting,
To walk that road again,
His love, his care,
Was never reciprocated,
He felt foolish,
The divine love,
That was once imaginable,
Turned into classic horror.

Where she would cook at night,
With his shirt on,
Oh how she looked so beautiful,
Standing there,
Imagining something different,
Something deserving,
Yet it was all deceiving.

A broken heart that could never be mended,
Where she broke his heart,
Over and over again,
The nostalgic feeling,
Move him more than anything,
In this world,
Which nearly brought him to tears.

Much awaited,
The healing process began,
He outgrew the pain,
The hunger of revenge,
And made his heart full of love again,
Never to be deceived,
Is one thing,
But never to let anyone,
Take away his spark again.

Imagining those little tender kisses upon his neck,
He slowly let's go,
So much so that,
He'll be able to get on the right path once more,
Take himself on a journey,
Where deceiving isn't an obstacle no longer,
He was hungry,
Hungry for happiness,
Hungry for passion,
Perhaps,
Past and future,
May never come across one another,
And find himself believing
Of finally accepting himself,
For who he is,
And for what he may become.
Guled Hanad Omar Feb 2016
Serene, sublime and supreme,
The luxury of life is daunting,
Green is the beam of light,
When your soul comes back in the morning.

Watch the robin tweet this evening,
Observe the time slowly leaving,
Serene, sublime and supreme,
Is tonight's scenery in meaning.
              
Misty is the fog clouding the landscape,                                    
The grass moist, cold and wet,
The grass hopper jumps from leaf to leaf, leaving a trial of life on the last morning.
Guled Hanad Omar Feb 2016
Serene is the ocean beneath the feet of the lover, pebbles swim yet fishes eat one another.

The lover gazes into the clouds of fur and leather, wondering whether there will be a stormy weather.                                        
                ­    
The busy bee makes it's delicacy with no interruption, gathering with no thought or assumption.
          
The volcano erupted with no precaution. A tornado came to tame what seemed a natural disaster but submerged into chaotic motion.

The lover stays with feet fixed beneath the wet sand to absorb all the climentic weather. Ready to face the commotion.

— The End —