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My thoughts
Are haywire
Lying to me in

So hard to
Stay positive
When all are
Screaming so

Every step turned
Hard work a
Crumbling crass,

No pieces remain
To react
Fallen hope
Choking to cope,

With shaky breathe
You stood
What left of you?

Before vultures attack
Fragmenting pride
Altering into self crimes,

Thoughts are powerful
Can pull through
Abhorrent verve
Lying only one side
Of turf
Sheherazad Feb 2019
Your exhausted heart longs
for the pillow
of my beating one
As much as
your weary head
yearns to rest
there too

But do not cry,
my love
That we are apart
in this world.
What is separation
for a single soul?

We are two aspects
of a single breath
Think of
how deeply we are exhaling
  what a relief it is
to have found you!
though you were in me all along

We are not apart
No, not really
For we cannot be parted
How does one sever an ocean
Or an eternal flame?
You are not my life
But we are life itself

And look how much we are living it.

Life is a veil
And we are the riders
Carrying opposite corners
to vast expanses
Spreading it over the world
and coloring gardens beneath
in the deep scarlet
of our undying hearts

Do not cry, my love.

We are a compound
that cannot be split.
    We were always
    one element

Originally published on my poetry IG @sheherazad.poetry. You can also follow me personally on @soraya.beheshti
Aditi Jan 2019
I bleed in silence, in
Abandoned cathedrals,
Monasteries, and holy Shrines.
I have looked for you,
Begged the grand idols,
Visited crumbling walls
Of burnt out cities,
And antiquities -
All the places they told me
You had been.

My eyes see red
But I'm blue,
And there's a bruise
On my knee-
A blend of both.
My lips no longer move in prayers
My eyes have no tales to tell-
But my poems scream
And I live - on a middle ground
Between the two
-a whimper on nights,
A sad smile during days.

You're not coming for the rescue, are you?

I ache and long, now
More than I can love
But for what? Is it you?
I never could commit suicide,
But I killed myself, every moment,
Till I heard the rhythm of that heavenly call
In your footsteps
And how you filled even the silences between us
With grace
And I was seen, and I could see
And I was loved with a love
That I could accept.

If our love had two colors,
It'd be red and blue
Like any God,
You came with your own set of rules.
Passionate red, that you brought
And the blues that I always carry
Red and blue icy veins -
With the same emotions flowing through.
But you were taken away too.
And now I'm neither red, nor blue
But despondent brown
The color of the dirt, the only thing
Separating me and you.

You're not coming back, are you?

I walk on,
I don't rest and I don't sleep.
How can there be a God if there's no justice?
And the moon is not blue with sadness;
Nor does it cry with me.
And the stars are just as oblivious and distant.
And the sun, well, it never bothered
to shine on any of us.
I see a world now, as it is,
Stripped of meaning
and all its metaphorical use.

If I could be colored,
I'd choose red and blue-
Burning bright
with a frigid determination.
To save the soul,
Sometimes you must
destroy its vessel
And when a world dies, its gods must die along.

None of you came, so I had to come to you.
Madison Greene Jan 2019
I wanted to write about walking away
the two of us, fading away from each others view
I'd decorate it in poetry as if it were anything more than another premature ending
but all I'm left with is shrines in the form of mixtapes
and days spent wondering what it would feel like if I was still in the backseat of your car
instead of sitting upright in the passenger side of his
he says he likes the song I'm playing
but I think he'd hate it if he knew it's just another epitaph for the nights I spent with you
From the very childhood
I used to go to a temple
amidst the valley beyond the wood
a heavenly place for soul to 'scramble'

Near to my college  
near to my home
a divine support
where ever I roam

In groups I talked about the place
that ultimate peace, the solace
My friends though never visited
had that same 'feel' enlisted

Blessings bestowed to them in ample
Not sure behind this was the temple!!!!
Many of them went abroad
and I on the same road

A selfish corner of mine
made a query to the shrine
The answer cleared the grim

Note: 'HE' for Almighty
E McNamara Mar 2018
Stop with those eyes.
Why can’t I memorize?
More green now than blue
Funny how you
Don’t look like you

Meeting eyes was easy
Like pouring sugar from a jar
Fidgeting with my ring
My heart never beat that hard
I was deep breaths and trembling hands

You remembered what I told you
Such a time ago
Stop making me laugh
You make it hard to let you go
But you’re human too

You have acne too
You fidget like me too
I built you to be a god
My hands loyal to your shrine
But you’re only humankind

But aren’t you beautiful
In your flawed ways
My heart all but sprung
From its cage
And lept into your hands.
Xallan Oct 2017
They used to have a bible
They kept it by their bedsides
Every night, a reminder of their love

Their idol craved worship
In blissful nights of silence
Guiding their hands together
A prayer of earnest hope
For attention from a lover
Forgotten in romance
In glowing cryptic messages
Playing late night mind games
They painted art backwards
Emotion was their candle
By which they shared their darkness
A delicate fog descended
Their mighty voices whispered
In present prophecy
Fear amplified their distance

Every day, they forgot their love
Nostalgic gazes to the empty altar
Where they used to keep a bible
Arcassin B May 2017
By Arcassin Burnham

Wishes For the single mothers and their mothers too,
all across the cosmos , their the real protectors,
holding kids inside their bellies and saw no mile nutrition,
while going through a lot and feeling  a bit under the weather,
If you think the world is cold then wait til it gets in December,
childhood memories will fade and all will start to become clearer,
some will have room for the corrupt and all of these pretenders,
there's bigger problems here than me and you , we'll have to render,
lies are futile,
let you serve some shrine and move on,
so self-centered, when your born,
it's like letting night play with dawn,
teach yourself, not to swim with sharks,
my time is running out,
gotta get my life together,
i'm turning 20 now,
all this stress i could not compile.
Coop Lee Aug 2015
cut open my sternum and poke.
spill in liquor
or ghost material.
unrust bone to protein.
baby limb.

she peddles her princess meat
& quests relentlessly for the perfect
glowing summer dress.
sacred thread.

girl of the 21st century:
& the mythos of her sudsy ***.
thesis: reptilian vs. human mating rituals.

rollercoasters in the forest &
approach the carousel/shrine
dragging our love like a corpse
across the wood-chips,
to present it
as is.
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