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The night never runs dry
the full moon is super cool
so are the bubbling stars
on the banks of the sea rivers!
The next stop is starry fair
but there is a catch to hop up there.

You got to do that
meet the condition of the night:
Ambling like it down the full moon
with blindfolded eyes!

You can ask how long
but ask not why.
For the length of time
think of walking it away
until the nightingale chimes out
upon the rose bottoming out of the night.
And for not asking why
because the Moon in the dark
never loses its sway!
Nicole Oct 6
If you were picked
And thought you would be loved
Only to be left
Would you not develop thorns too?
A poem from my fav book
Does she ever catch
that grin on your lips
or the glimmer in your eye
when you’re thinking of me?
I bet you draw my portrait in your sleep
Your blue rose
Your broken diamond
You never forget the lyrics
to your favorite song
See me
Breathe me
Bleed me
Don’t forget me

- Selfish
Amanda Noel Sep 28
And then she told the rose,
The only reason anyone
would stop to appreciate the aroma
Is motivated by a desire
to tear your petals apart.

Alternating between disbelief
and questioning the possibility,
the rose sharpened her armor.
Thorned by a prickled heart.
Polar Equations.
Glacial Contradiction
Shelster Sep 26
Crinkled up yellow petals

Into a teardrop blossom

Layers and layers of sunshine beauty

Held tightly into a bud

Opening and closing

To the rhythm that is day

Sweetness emanating

From the seed



To grow the love that is

-- A rose (yellow)
Shofi Ahmed Sep 24
Hand on the thorns
and eyes on the rose.

Singing ravishingly
a happy song
is only half of
the story is told!
Enas Sep 22
‪Wistfulness is the state of my existence..constantly returning to the place I come from..always feeling like a soul floating on a star ceiling watching over my surroundings..blended in a distant place that doesn’t bend to the measure of quiet detachment from the world true to my realities shift condensing together at if I already experienced reality in an incomprehensible, hypnotic stream away from my immediate present & all my five senses rendered surreal living in a constant dream..a concentrated flow to the center of my cerebrum..a view from the Rose window in the dark cathedral of my mind..where the tiny light particles in the sun beam passing through pulsate in my sight and the deep waves of silence echoing in the corners ring in my ear..where even darkness speaks dancing specs of iridescence..and colours weep intricate opaque gleams..concealed in an omnipotent and brimful beauty that passes never captured or unfathomed sacred language I can only feel..with fey farseeing  eyes and a tranquil faint a scenic sophist..where everything in a word has a world and weight as real as anything else I can overwhelmingly see & touch..and everything around me becomes one with my own soul..‬
Enas Sep 22
Sāfar Ar Rūh..
A cosmic traveler..
Traveling in silence..
By the moon..
Beyond the sun..
Writings on the stars..
You will never know..
All that you know is gone..
Eden, a fall from grace..
Eve, a celestial embrace..
Reading between the lines..
Māktūb, in eternal signs..
To pages of the sky..
Holier than heaven..
Hallower than hell ..
Exalted above Al A’arāf..
An awakening, absolute..
A resolve, resolute..
A sacred verse..
A destined course..
To pensive paths..
In soulful senses..
Like seraphic kiss..
Of eternal bliss..
A place so refined..
A rose coloured mind..
A fate fine tuned..
A concealed meaning..
An omniscient feeling..
A sublime surrender..
In chaos asunder..
The skies are torn apart..
To painted red rose..
Blooming at the close..
A crimson sky in bloom..
A Rose of Devine..
Wārdatū Ar Rahmān..
A creation so fine..
Oh, Ancient of days..
In mysterious ways..
In magnificent design..
A moment, all mine.
Enas Sep 22
A body was pinned to the ground; it was the body of a young woman. In the short time she gained consciousness, all of her senses were heightened; her vision was pitch black, but she could perceive everything around her like never before, for fear was instilled in her heart fluttering like a bird trying to escape for dear life, her lungs filled up rapidly and blood coursed her veins as her body was trying to prove it is alive; in the darkness she pictured the white flash of the thundering sky, the howling wind brushing against shaking tree bushes, every rain drop that fell on her cheeks, the cold water stream seeping through her red dress, the smell of nourished grass and fresh mud under her fingernails.

Though her heart never beat as fast, it almost stopped suddenly for one thing that made her petrified more than all that obscurity; a heavy warm presence. It was so warm brushing against her body, almost super fluid and mercurial in substance, gentle and bright radiating with brilliance and grace like a crystal. It spoke to her in mellow yet strange sound she did not understand, like a singing whale.

It was almost as if time has stopped and everything happened at the same time. Though terror paralyzed her ability, her instincts widened her eye sockets, her fingers cringed when she felt something burning making its way up through her entire body to her throat. It felt like voice cords being ripped apart by someone’s invisible hand in her mouth and burning her up and making her sweat feverishly. All while her perceptions were rewinding in her mind like someone hit the back of her head bursting up questions no one can afford to think about in her state; questions that made her feel extreme anger and horrifying confusion.

“Why do I feel relieved?”

“What is it that I cannot remember?”

It was a sudden agonizing pain no human can bear, which became slower and slower as time went by. It was a slow process of something shutting down. She slowly began to feel the numbness in her finger tips to her limbs to her chest. She couldn’t sense anything anymore; not the sharp wind or the piercing pebbles beneath. Everything that surrounded her felt like white rays reflecting hints of color and her mind became empty and clear, like a white board untouched and lacking. The only thought she knew was “I am an existence.”

She opened a pair of green eyes, not that they were there or were hers. It was as if she conjured up their existence and did the same with her body. She stood on pale bare feet and long slender legs. She felt light and graceful. She opened her palm and found a red-blood rose, which thorns were piercing through her flesh, and for the first time she felt what she wanted to feel; supreme happiness as she shed a tear and thought. “I must walk.” She did not know why or how, but it was the only thing that felt normal and familiar like a far-off memory in the back of her mind blurry and barely there.

She followed it with hope unknowingly conjuring up a place; A full moon, a dark forest welcoming a storm and small water stream, which on lay a young woman in her twenties, wearing an elegant yet simple red dress. She stared at her with no expression, her brown hair flowing up and down against a large stone, her striking blue eyes wide open and her skin taking a white bluish shade. She was drenched in blood, which flowed down the stream from her chest turning the water red. Next to her lay seven fresh red roses. They were carefully arranged in orderly fashion. Every petal was still intact and every root was delicately cut.

“Eve.” she said.

She did not know who this woman was, or how she came upon her name. All she wanted was to sit beside her lifeless fragile body and hold her hand. She wanted to grieve for her, but she remembered.

“I must keep walking.” She thought.
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