Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Something is now starting to surface, while thought and spirit are forced to listen incessantly in the depths of the Soul. Something would necessarily have to open the iris-retinas of the colorblind eyes, where petty, selfish, manipulative secrets lie hidden, because the totality of non-existent materials has unexpectedly-suddenly changed form and shape. It would be good if we all learned to cling to our still forgivable, foolish-childish mistakes, which could once have made us human; our tingling fingertips, like semaphore-seismic compasses, would feel the redeemable promise of the truer Universe.

Reason - even now - would dictate the vile conditions out loud in vain; the psychological smoke of permanent misery certainly already covers the brainwashed heads daily. The spiral circle returning to itself always closes, since it can return to itself; the metamorphosis should be noticed in radiantly happy eyes, which have not yet been seized by the power of disenfranchised materialism.

Man's most loyal shadow companions dissolve disembodied into the Nirvana-Nothingness, because behind it still remains the uncertain milieu nicknamed the permanent; we would like to despise our well-traveled Robinson-feet in the noise of the knocking silences, when the world has already shrunk to Omega. The stigma-stations of waiting accustomed to patience are becoming less and less understandable!
People tell me to live like every day is my last.

But that’s not what life is for.
Life is for believing. Believing that you will have tomorrow.
Believing that tomorrow isn’t just a prospect, but an imminence.

I can picture every horrible scenario, every improbable tragedy:
Car crash, heart attack, kidnapping—
But if I’m always wondering if I’ll meet my death tomorrow,
I’m not living at all.

Life is slow and arduous and not everyday is extraordinary.
Most days are forgotten.

But the ones that aren’t…
the days that you’ll think about when you’re really dying,
they only have value because they’re numbered.

And even though we spend our lives reflecting on
and recording those sensational memories,
I’m grateful for every useless day and hour and minute I had.

Because I love living like every day is not my last.
Some thoughts on life that I initially wrote for a story, but altered into poem form.
irinia 2d
here horizon feels like the palm of a god
the lake receives the fury of summer
un unutterable feeling pushes my hands into firestorms
light rests on everything heavy as the clouds
birds carry their chirp into the destiny of the air
the moon hides somewhere in the silence of the forest
my eyes are too small a nest for the  flow of wonder
Athos 2d
Music from another time
Begins to fill my ears,
And my mind gets flooded
With memories of then.

Memories of happiness,
Warm like a sunny day in April;
Memories of love,
Ever-consuming and euphoric;
Memories of agony,
Hollow lies and hollow heart;
Memories of confusion,
Fog flooding my mind at all times.

But there is one memory that stands out more than the others:
The memory of my death.
How I slowly lost my spark,
And was too aware of the cold.
How I slowly lost all meaning,
And just wished for an end that felt real.
How I slowly lost myself,
And I wasn’t sure if I was worth knowing anymore.
How I slowly died,
And I didn't even realize until I built myself up again.

I didn't die with a last breath.
I could feel my lungs inhale and exhale the air.
I didn't die knowing I was dying.
I thought I was getting better.
I didn't die, in my head —
I kept moving, too fast to notice.
But I died in my memories.
And realized only now.

But I was born again.
I'm not writing from my grave,
I'm writing from my pedestal.
Like a statue rising from cold stone,
I carved myself into someone new.
Painful, like sculpting pieces of myself out
From the block of marble I'm working on.
Slow, because I only have my own hands
And no other tools to work.
Strong, like the quartz
I chose to use and cherish.
Elegant, like the lines and curves
That I'm chiselling.

I died.
And when I tried living again,
I got killed.
But I already died twice.
This time, I'll grow wings
And be the strong phoenix,
Returning from the ashes.
Life is a waiting,
don't let yourself wait
in vain.
Peter Balkus Mar 2024
Our true self is so far from us,
that it doesn't even know that we exist.
Sarayu 2d
I am the reason this world keeps moving.
I don’t see the difference between rich and poor.
I don’t care if you are young or old.
Before me everyone stands equal.

I am the driving force behind industries
Agriculture, medicine, education, and pharma
All exist, somewhere, because of me.

I am the one who teaches you what life truly is.
For some, I’m not just a feeling
I am a destination.

Some will never know how I feel.
Some will never know the blessing of my absence.

Everyone earns to silence me,
Yet most end up learning to live with me.

One side of the world swallows pills to awaken me,
While the other side folds hands before God,
Begging for a cure to destroy me forever.
I can push you to achieve greatness.
I can drag you to the most painful death.

Be it happiness or sorrow,
Be it light or darkness,
Be it birth or death
I am the one that never leaves.

But I wear many faces.
Sometimes I am physical.
Sometimes I am emotional.

Call me by any name:
In Telugu - Aakali.
In Hindi  - Bhookh.
In Tamil  - Pasi.
In Bengali  - Khudha.
In Kannada - Hasivu.
In Malayalam - Vishappu.


Different tongues. Different words.
But the feeling I bring?
It lingers the same
In every heart,
In every home,
Across every corner of this world.

While some plates overflow,
Others lick their fingers.

Some throw food like trash,
While others would trade a lifetime for one meal.

Wars have been fought in my name.
Revolutions have been born from my ache.

I am not just an empty stomach.
I am history.
I am survival.
I am tragedy.


I am not your shadow,
But the weight you were born to carry
The silent war you’ll never win.

I am HUNGER.
Gugzang 2d
Fate always finds ways to leave you scarred,
But please stick with it.
Because somewhere you can't see,
Someone crosses the sea of time just to embrace your sensitive heart.

Just to have a single glimpse of you,
To strike a normal meet w you.
Or
Maybe it's not just them,
It's you
Waiting endlessly
Someone to search,
To reach out.

'One to look back upon the sand castles that
're left w noone in them.
As if,
Even the castles are longing for someone to remember them.

But eventually,
They would end up scattering,
Since most bury their euphoric remembrances just to remember the melancholy.

Albeit,
the sand castles' span depends upon the
native's mind;
Alas, the latter always tends to remember the tornados...
Completing defying the 'work for which he preserved so hard,
For the one who destroyed his castle?

But
Once
The native realises that it's not the tornado, it's the sand
From which the castle can be made
A thousand times
Only If he remembers to cherish
The things meant for him to cherish,
He will be truly liberated.

BUT
What if,
he wants to be stuck in his melancholic waves of tornado?
Then,
He will eventually become a slave
Of those melancholic waves,
Would be scared to defy Mob,
be anxious of past decisions,
frightened to Even live.
Or
Maybe he would suffocate in those giant waves ultimately leading his last moments
Just for him to remember-
The sand that once his hands' contained
Was now fleeting from his hands
Forever-
Or maybe that was the sand's fate.
        
                                -d'chu.
As if even the castles are longing for someone to remember them:/
Peace
Is what I want,
Is what I have.

I think it’s all inside;
You just have to think right.
You just gotta find something
That makes you get that feeling.

That feeling of calmness,
Understanding,
Unity
And life.

That life inside you should always grow
You’ll recall me when you’d feel it.
It’s different for all
But for me it’s:

Nature,
Dogs,
Music,
Travel

And people.
Life wouldn’t be right without people.
peace and love everybody
29/05/25
ASLRC 2d
Welcome to the factory!
Where you will always be!

Keep following the one in front
No questions, just don’t

“It has always been this way”
That's something they’ll say

Welcome to the factory!
Where you will never be happy

They shoot you with red eyes
When you notice all their lies

They take away your soul
And replace it with their goal

Welcome to the factory!
Your value is based on salary

Don’t try to run away
Because you will be here till you decay

And those who will act crazy or emotional
Will be sentenced to a life-time custodial
Next page