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Coleen Mzarriz Aug 2020
There he goes
scraping his last worn-out scars
gripping the tune of
his harsh breathing
could've been if he was
the brave man
he ever showed.

Harmonized with his rusty guitar
sang an unfamiliar lullaby
hummed in different tones,
as he silently uttered a profanity
and there goes him,
let out a clamor
no one will ever heed.

As his visions turned blurry,
the fussing rasps of his voice
can only be grasped
by the mist of death
and there he goes,
sang a weeping lullaby
beside him was the woman
who so abode with eternal chaos.

And then together, a wayfarer
amid the longing dawn,
the sun shall never rise again.
From the tune of the brave man,
he quieted the chattering misery of
the goddess of the night.
The brave Man and the Goddess of the night.

p.s you can also listen to ‘I Promise’ by Radiohead.
Letters from Lia Jul 2020
I have a strange mind —
It only remembers things
that are too cold
and tragic

I have a strange mind —
It only remembers misery,
grief and torments

In my sleep
my mind only gives me
ceaseless nightmares

Sometimes my mind
would go on a quest
in search of a speck
of hope
only for it to get lost

Sometimes my mind
creates moments of bliss
but I can only see
void
or maybe
there's really nothing to see.

I have a strange mind
and I'm starting to wonder
maybe my mind
can only recall moments
that are real.
Siin.li

When can I taste a bit of happiness?
Dr Zik Jul 2020
Ah!
Dr Zik Poetry
'Zinet' is the shortest modern poetic form in English poetry (rhythm un-rhythm). This poetic form is developed in the second decade of the 21st century. It is a popular form of unrhymed American and Pakistani poetry, which have got popularity and evolved in the 21st century.  It is being rapidly adopted by modern and busy civilizations as a powerful literary tool to express emotions. "Zinet" consists of a single line having up-to seven syllables, giving logical effects and known as a complete meaningful poem.
“Haiku” a Japanese short poem is of three lines while couplet written in “Urdu Ghazal” having a full independent theme on its own, can also be considered as a shorter poem than Haiku in this regard.

But the nomenclature of short poems namely “Ziket” and ‘Zinet’ is the breakthrough in this regard.

The best writers of these poetic form are John Stevens, Richard Riddle, Born and Ernie Hudson
while following are among the world-famous poets who like and writing comments (appreciation) in the favour of writers.
Walter W Hoelbling, Timothy, Rose, Krista DelleFemine, Mack, carol rose james, Ajamu Collins, Donna Jones, Star BG, Jamadhi Verse, Pradip Chattopadhyay, Liz Balise, Kim Johanna Baker, Marian, Jae Okios, Loghain Carvó, david jm, Raj Arumugam, SøułSurvivør, wordvango, David Patrick O'C, Joe Adomavicia, Sally A Bayan, A Lopez, brandon nagley, RW Dennen, patty m, anu, Santiago, Sia Jane, Jimmy Hegan, K Balachandran, PoetryJournal, The Poetic Philosopher, MS Lim, Pax, Maggie Emmett, adhi das, Asim Rafiq Mulla, Pamela Rae, Vanessa Gatley, L Seagull, Sameer Denzi, Stephanie Stoychevska, Lori Jones McCaffery, Akinwale damilare ayomikun, Zoe Nikolopoulou, Traveler, Crazy Diamond Kristy, Sylvia Frances Chan, SG Holter, Musfiq us shaleheen, RW Dennen, Neva Flores Varga, Nikki I, Jack, Michael S Simpson, Jennifer Humphrey, Flower Scent, CG Abenis, Isabelle, raen, TinaMarie, Babu kandula, Hilda,   S-zaynab-kamoonpury and Zoe, Paula Lee.
Amanda Kay Burke Jul 2020
I am sorry that I am a hopeless mess
Waste of space
Broken at best
Words my comfort when taken by fear
Times I can't face who's waiting in the mirror
I want pain to end so I can be free
The overwhelming misery
I try to pause
Breathe deep and slow
Anxiety will not let me go
And I want to change
Be happy once more
I'll never get back the life I had before
Just make the world disappear for awhile
Then maybe I'd remember how to smile
It's been so long I think I've forgotten how it feels to laugh
Oh god,
why are you doing this to me,
Won’t you just let me be,

I am suffering can’t you see,
It’s long gone my days of glee,

Oh how much I want it back,
I pray to thee,
Will the rest of my days atleast
smell of sweet pea,

Hope but hope, after all
without hope what are we,
Come what may,
all I want is to be free…
December 2018
dailythoughts Jun 2020
I wish he was not someone I was trying my best to forget.
To think about us is one complex path which I am lost in.
I can’t go back finding the way I walked so eagerly on and I don’t see a simple direction to get out of this matter of ache.

You held my hand and we both walked in the darkness of uncertainty. You stepped back and forgot you were not alone in this. Left me solving the mystery you created for the both of us to solve.

In the matter of seconds, I was there holding my heart on sleeves for you to see what I have to offer. The life came out of me and not even a single echo you could hear. My screams were so silent I could create the music you like.

Every pain I took wishing you will find the light guiding you back to where you want to belong. Faith is a thin thread but it is all I have. By now you must be out of the tunnel and still yet I am dancing on the thin thread of faith.
you
Dibyendu Sarkar Jun 2020
I'm glad, you left me lingering 

In this beautiful misery

You know it's was hard hitting living with someone's old memories so I burned those pages of life. 

Took a small vacation at a beach 

Drank a little, wrote a lot

Maybe will write a book 

Perhaps make you the villain. 

Love you are the muse of a dark poet 

You are going to live a enternal life 

Of agonizing pain through the words. 

I loved, I fought made way towards you and you turned the ship. 

©sarcasticbong
Just the low of 3 at night.
Mancy Jul 2020
Finally I understand
why nobody could
pull me out of
my solitude.

Because, I am so good at
playing hide and seek
that I hid my lonely self,
very well
that no loving soul
could ever find it .
Sometimes, to save ourselves, all we have to do is unveil our hidden soul.
Giovanna Jun 2020
In my dream bubble,
all the glee is filterable.
No words said.
The blues with the reds,
on a wide spread.
As the clock strikes my happy hour,
there is a prey of my power.
I stand strong over the killed,
with a thirst unfulfilled.
When I said glee could be sieved,
it was misery I picked.
Do u have a thirst like mine?
Sanjana Jun 2020
This is the journal of the dead,
The one that reads of misery and plight.
Pain, sorrow, tears un-wiped.
Will, I read it? Yes, I might!

He smiled and laughed through the unhappiness received,
He probably forgot that eyes could deceive.

He drank champagne till his empty heart-filled,
His soul wasn't empty, filled with guilt.

His skin was embellished with cuts and scars,
His mind within him ripped him apart.

He walked till the end, till the edge of every cliff,
Through paths lit with fires and lanes filled with pyres.

He waited for long and lost everything coming along,
Broken pieces un-joint, falling way behind time.

He cried and wept through every coming night,
Till his face turned pale and tears were denied.

He had to depart with a smile on his face,
It was finally the end, of an unendurable phase.

This is the journal of the dead,
Of the one that cried, but never lied.
Of the one broken, yet the one who never broke.
Of the one that died, leaving all behind.
The sufferings of a man through out his life until he rested in peace at the end.
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