Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Poojakaundal Apr 2018
Somewhere
Out there

b e y o n d

A road of
Attentions and infatuations ;

You'll see another
Path too,
— m e e t
                    m e
                               t h e r e



©poojkaundal | apr202018
aviisevil Sep 2017
A silent symphony plays in the background
Soothing the atmosphere of its whispers and tears 

There's an aroma of quietness all around 
A hint of madness in serenity it bears 

Tommorows cease to exist from now on,
and can you not hear ?

Life singing the yesterday's songs,
To be lost in the approaching calmness my dear 

Time slows down to a halt 
Too tired to move and caress the impending doom 
And night saves the memory to be kept in a vault;
Safe and hidden from the looming gloom.

And I lie in ecstasy 
a dream I longed to dream 

A fading reality 
To be erased of all that I've seen 

And I recall my oldest friend 
A hope that I banished long ago 
But it haunts me again in the end 
And the hope to feel alive grows 
A spark in the embed darkness 
Ignites the desires I locked away 
And it possess me once again 
To let me please my whites and greys 

And I bleed of all that poison 
That this world and I brew 
Letting go of all the answers 
That once my soul knew 
Slowly but surely 
The coldness I nurtured, is replaced by the warmth of my sin,

And I wonder with peace 
What the morrow may bring ?

And I wonder with peace 
When the morrow may ring ?

And I dream away my life 
As I exhale my last precious breath 

Forever lost in my sweet dream 
into the approaching beautiful death.
I am Monday
The sky on a rainy morning
I am the sea as it rumbles
The air as it trembles
I am the storm
And the calm
I am a mess
Catastrophe with eyes grayer
Than the smoke
Of the world that has burned down
We determine who we are
By what we do.
The choices we've made
Forever our own.
The flip switch we never saw
Is hidden in you.
Ambiguous Frizz Jun 2015
We are to show
Our finest flaws
To grow.
10-word poem
Grey fine lines,

intoxicating fine wines,

uninterpretable fine arts,

tiresome finance,

with unjust fines,

...fine,

I'm doing just fine.

O.Q-N

— The End —