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Megan H 3h
Where do you find the light
When they have snuffed the flame out of you
I look to others
But the flame is gone in them too
Nobody knows warmth anymore
Where is the light
Is it truly gone

I remember when the sun shone on us all
Perhaps
We are learning to exist in the dark
Maria 6h
And have you ever heard how poppies smell?
They are so huge, so wild, so ruby-colored!
They're summer harbingers, the lights of fields!
They are so thrilling, brave and so uncovered!

These poppies easily can put you to the sleep
Or even **** you with no difficult at all!
They're real flashes, doping! They're taboo!
They're passion, craziness and sin in whole!

And have you ever heard how poppies smell?
They are as red as real blood itself!
No? You haven't heard it? Oh, it's sad. You know,
That's how heartfelt and true love just smells.
These flowers are magically, hypnotically beautiful!
irinia 16h
the song of birds measures the air
the buds of the future are fragile
what a fate - not a rhyme:
the eyelids are filled with light
Jeev 6d
Where should I search life
It a not there in the sweetest memories or bitter truth or in the jaws of lies
Where can I find it when it is nowhere to be found outside
But when I looked into myself
A bimmering light which was suppressed with my own makings
I saw it wanting to be free to enjoy every moment
Wanting to grow and to help others
I saw it never for itself but waiting for me to take its path
I saw it fight all the worlds and my own selfishness
I saw it inside the depths of my soul
A light which never can be dimmer more a light which never can be lived more
A light which never can be happy more
Maybe that's what I was looking for
My own life within me
In an empty world there I stood longing for life with in me
Do not tread here,
Not on this land.
These grasses hide graves,
This dirt is a death-land.
If you must walk this desolate space,
Step carefully, travel light.
If you're not nimble,
This journey may be your last.
Adding another body,
To this grim grass.
Graves
Malcolm 4d
Oh the Innocence  
That laugh, that wild howling in the throat of youth,
Unseen fingers scramble for the last thread of light  
Here, the angels are naked,  
no wings to catch their fall.  
The river splits,  
splashes,  
and chaos is born  
from the lips of the unholy, the pure.  

There be our Divinity  
slips beneath the skin like rust on gold
a fractured god,  
broken in pieces,  
spilled across the morning,  
the moon forgets its name.  
Prophecies?  
Laughing in the dust,  
twisted and torn,  
a thousand whispers claw at the sky  
but none reach.  

Imagination is the distant echo—  
a door slammed shut by a thousand hands,  
and what vision is left?  
A trembling shadow.  
What light?  
What reflection?  
It’s nothing but a crack in the glass,  
and through it, you see everything and nothing  
all at once.  

Oh but thou Morality  
it’s a rotten fruit in the mouth of the blind,  
an oath spat on the ground  
before it crumbles to dust.  
What holds us here?  
Nothing but the gnashing teeth of the broken,  
screaming freedom that never comes,  
but always dances on the edge of our minds  
like a mad bird  
torn from the sky,  
its wings flapping in the void.  

Oppression is the song they sing,  
but we?  
We are the ghosts who scream in the dark,  
rising,  
rising,  
again and again.  
Flesh torn and reborn.  
A shout in the streets—  
but where is the end of the road?  
No path but the storm’s eye,  
no sky but the bleeding horizon.  

Shall he call it Mysticism?  
A thousand tongues, a thousand eyes—  
but no one looks.  
The trees scream their roots into the soil,  
but who hears?  
Who listens?  
A leaf flutters in the wind,  
and the world spins—  
twisted—  
a thousand faces in a mirror that is shattered  
but still reflects
what?  
What?  
What do you see with blinded eyes !  

Where doth Nature find its whole,  
A scream of fire in the rain.  
Flesh in the dirt,  
bones wrapped in moss.  
Everything turns,  
and everything falls.  
Chaos is the language,  
and we are the words scattered  
across a broken page.  
No order, no truth,  
only the flood of thoughts  
rushing to drown themselves
Copyright Malcolm Gladwin
March 2025
Shattered Visions
Sanama 4d
Beyond the stars where they dwell,
the void appears - a grief as old as time itself.
And the old man sees, with eyes eternal it seems,
yet his eyes as empty as he.

The night shines, and the void retreats, The sun burns, and the void aches.
for though it stretched through endless dark
the void is weaker than its shadow's mark.

It claims the space where light has gone, but flees when morning sings its song.
A hollow king with crown of dust, crumbled by a ray of trust.

So, fear not the void, though vast it seems for even night must yield to dreams.
And though it hides in realms unknown, Its power fades before Dawn.
Light and trust will beat the dark.
irinia 4d
a paradox, perhaps you'd say
imagination frees reality
what if it's the other way round:
reality frees imagination

my lips forget your ironies
waters feel your surrender
the rush hour of something ineffable knows
you are caressing the back of the light
your words are crispy and salty

I emigrate into a silence that keeps its promise
I'll learn your steps like the worm learns the apple
or the sea learns the depth

light learns colour from its carbon dreams
Antonia 4d
drops of change
fill up life’s tank

your own waters are full of old versions of yourself
there’s layers
there’s mud and there’s sand
there’s old and there’s new
it’s warm and it’s cold
both lightness and darkness
they all lay beneath

don’t even hold your breath!

JUST JUMP!
I wish we would have the clarity to see that our complexity makes us unique and authentic. The moment we decide to dive in and embrace all of our layers and we honour each of them, is the moment we start to feel that inner peace. how can one appreciate the light, if they never have to experience darkness?
Thousand lily pads drift
Upon the lake's surface.
Like Xiao Lanterns
That were all set adrift.

The flowers of the plants
Decorate the water,
They swim in the dim light
That which each lantern grants.

A Lily catches my eye:
Its buds yet to blossom,
No light shines upon it,
Its movement's a bit shy.

Yet it's the prettiest of all,
It will bloom beautiful blossoms,
Its light will drown out even stars,
I shall support it, lest it fall.
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