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George Krokos Jan 2018
Whatever it is that attracts a moth to burning flame
is seen by me as a mysterious sacrificial love game.
The moth is just an insect and that flame is of fire
and so gets consumed in the heat of all its desire.
_______
From "The Quatrains" ongoing writings since the early '90's
Maria Etre Jan 2018
I apologize
to the stars above
I have neglected
your signs

Yet you
persisted..

You believe in miracles
to bring
him knocking
at my door
Again ....
"knock knock"
Dillon Neal Dec 2017
It
Toothless it whispers
And tells me stories grim
It's a black cat with crooked whiskers
Scratching, beckoning, let it in

It lurks in the darkness of shadows
In cool whisps of the night
It hovers, and in absence grows
It's the calm, just before a fright
the Nov 2017
cloudy, deadly seashore
ruminating upon unknown
breezy wrath, cold bath
whereas grueling it became

fowl without any motion
driven with no emotion
rueful walk of solitary
stopped like a statuary

stream of tattered plates
awoken the mighty states
potent but yet languorous
fragile but yet amorous

oh, comfit, where'd you get lost?
your inside has frozen in the frost
yet optimistic, awaiting to get out
from the one irresistible rout
K Balachandran Nov 2017
I am aware, the mysterious clock within,
chimes in resonance with her heart's beating.
It keeps the time that really matters to us both,
The rest, day or night it be  is mere imagination.
Audrey G Nov 2017
Eyes as blue as pure water
Fur as white as a snowflake
Smile as pretty as spring
Light as the wind

But caring as a mom,
Playful as a child
Curious as one can be
Unique like no other

Calm as the sea,
Mysterious as the new day
No one knows her name
Is a legend, just like her
Àŧùl Nov 2017
I am not a believer in the popular notion of God or Allah or Yahweh or Prabhu or Bhagwan or Rabb or any other concept.

I do believe that something has created all of it but that power isn't as selfish to make its creations worship it. The power will be happy if we remain faithful towards life on Earth and do not conduce in destroying any form of life that can express its pain animatedly.

I despise the promise of a place in an imaginary place called heaven or paradise if we comply with the words conveyed to a single person by the fictional creator or the punishment in boiling oil if we don't comply with the words conveyed to that fictional man.

Heaven is nowhere if logic is to be heeded to, but heaven is now here if love, compassion and brotherhood towards all creatures on this planet is on our minds while all of us humans loyally comply with our duties.

Any creator, that will tell a man (probably on marijuana) in his dreams that nonbelievers are to be either converted or killed before the descent of Pralay/Qayamat/Doomsday, is a figment of imagination which propagated through the course of time.

Do good, practice fidelity to your family and your Karma will be balanced to help you attain Nirvaņa.
Another piece of my thinking.
The first mist you meet
You'll meet the guardians of the river,
The second mist you meet
You'll meet the clouds from oceans far,
The third mist you meet
Be prepared to meet your maker
For the final mist may send you
Back to river, or to star.
10.15.17 Inktober Prompt: Mysterious
Rules: No edits allowed.
Grant Dickson Oct 2017
Waking from a short sleep
From the curtains I did take a peep,
The sky it did look ugly I did say
Was something wicked on its way.

Pondering within the present moment
Feeling intrigued about what it meant,
Had I woken from a dream into reality
Or was it the reality of a dream to me

Visions of late I'm sure we've all had
Pain and suffering it's just so sad,
Thoughts of nuclear nightmares
Clasping hands we'd say our prayers.

Returning to the window we go
Waiting to see if the sun will glow,
Then it appeared orange blood red
Picturing Mysterious skies sat on my bed.
Wrote this after waking this morning and seeing how the skies changed so quickly, from whitish blue to almost dark sand.
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