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In their chaos,
I found the pulse of my soul.
Destiny wasn't theirs to give—
it was mine all along.
This poem delves into the journey of finding one's purpose amid life's turbulence. It speaks to the awakening of inner power and the realization that destiny has always been within, waiting to be embraced.
Chloe 14h
I used to write songs to god
back when I did not know a lot
or think much about what I want
It was all a lie I told myself
to believe

The amazing grace
missed it’s mark
No one saved my soul,
often gone
It was all a lie
that everyone seemed to believe

I think it requires a type of hope
and an overwhelming need to cope,
which I never could
I believe in ghosts
and electricity;
unwinding and rewiring
Nothing good ever came from the shock

I used to pray for everyone -
anxiously and, often, overdone
The weight never softened,  
always buckling under the worry
Some never need to learn,
they just know its true
Maria 19h
Please, listen to me.
I know you’ve done it forever.
Maybe you’ve done it more than enough,
More than you should not now or ever.

Please, listen to me.
I swear to you, I will be silent.
And in my silence you’ll see my soul,
Which will be crying out of mind.

My soul’s alive.
It needs much power to go on living.
It simply wants to go ahead
Without guile, with only pure feeling.

Please, listen to me.
I know you’ll still do it forever.
But no matter what happens to any of us,
Please, listen to me whatever, whenever.
This poem is about soul's suffering
(Two roses, passionate and peaceful, their love a force that is simultaneously grounding and elevating. Where Valentina is the beautiful, passionate lover, Lucian is the constant protector and source of light. Their love—is as eternal as the blooming of roses, forever intertwined in a dance of devotion, passion, and protection)

Valentina:
Dearest companion of my soul,
How you are the very light that makes me whole!
Your ruby hue, so rich and fine,
Doth bring to mind the sun’s last shine.
When I am near you, all else doth fade,
As though the world in reverence laid.
Oh, let me linger in your arms so near,
For in your presence, I hold no fear.
I am yours, petal by petal, year by year.

Lucian:
Ah, my most beloved, you speak with such grace,
Your words a sweet balm, my heart’s embrace.
Your fragrance, gentle as the morning breeze,
Doth whisper of love’s most tender pleas.
I am but a simple rose in your domain,
Yet in your gaze, I rise again, free of pain.
Your red is more than nature’s design—
It is the very soul of love, divine.

Valentina:
Indeed, dear one, your words touch me so—
As though they were written in the heavens’ glow.
Your fragrance, like a gentle hymn, doth rise,
Filling my heart, my thoughts, my skies.
When I am kissed by the wind’s soft hand,
I dream of you, our love’s sweet land.
Would that I could forever stay,
Bathed in the sweetness of your sway.

Lucian:
How cruel it is that time doth part,
Yet you remain the keeper of my heart.
Your red is not the hue of mere flowered bloom,
But the shade of passion, of love’s sweet room.
With each petal that soft doth fall,
I am reminded of love’s most noble call.
Though our seasons may soon be done,
Know, dearest one, we shall always be one.

Valentina:
Oh, my darling, your words so tenderly spoken
Are the very breath of love, unbroken.
Let us not fret what seasons may bring,
For love transcends time’s fleeting wing.
In your arms, I am not bound by age or fate—
With you, my dear, I shall always wait.
For the red of our hearts shall ever remain,
A symbol of love’s most sweet refrain.

Lucian:
And so we bloom, not for the hour,
But for the gift of love’s full power.
Your fragrance shall live in every breeze,
Whispering sweetly through the trees.
Though our petals may fall, our love is true—
In every bloom, I shall find you.
For in your red, I see the endless sky,
And in your gaze, I shall never die.

Valentina:
Then, my dearest, let us rise above the earth,
And evermore, in love, find our worth.
For though we may fall with the autumn rain,
Our love will bloom, again and again.
In your red, I see the fire of our days,
In your fragrance, the sweetness of all that stays.
Together, dear, let us ever be,
Two roses bound in eternity.

Lucian:
Forever, my love, this bond we shall share,
For your heart and mine are beyond compare.
In the garden of life, where love is sown,
We shall bloom in a glory of our own.
Let others fade, let others fall—
In your red, I am blessed, after all.
A Scarlet Embrace 10/01/2025 © All Rights Reserved by Jamil Hussain
Snow blankets the earth,
Shivers of frost kiss the air,
Calmness wraps the soul.
Winter reminds me of the beauty found in silence, like Frozen Elsa maybe....
However, I still can't enjoy it fully because my fingers swell during this season..... :(
Sorry, there is not a single homeless
river lurking nearby.
God does not walk around,
staring at the space at His feet.

The bird of my melancholy
has perched on the border between
life and heaven;
a branch bends, the last boulder
breaks away from the ground.

Air spreads within me, a breath
of freshly renovated sky - I will find
an antidote
to an overly noisy thought.

Sleep will never be
reconciled with night.
Your tears are so uncertain of my lips,
so vast that the soul stops
in mid-question.

What good are the answers if they
are so stereotypical?
What good are people if hope
has settled in the corner
of the mouth?

Or maybe a surfeit of tenderness
makes me dare to love in vain?
Is it fear that prevents you
from living emphatically?

Stars of this evening are silent.
The Moon is noiseless, late for its own
thirtieth birthday.
Unwritten, endless poems
hurt the most.
Thoughts, barely begun, are associated
with a life that has begun
too hastily.

I am here, close to memories
of future - I do not have the strength
to lift my own shadow,
to deliberately end my sleep.

I am your sleepy doubt, pride -
the stars boast.
Or maybe pity will make hatred
fall silent, shouted over
by the silence?

Would fear make me stronger
than memory?
Solitude deprived of life
is merely a vestibule to the garden,
to the orchard, where apple trees
die in the middle of summer,
forbidden fruit grows.

I stole from you the last morsel
of conscience, a sip of prayer -
painful, infinite.

I will never encounter this irony again,
this light quite unresurrected.
I wish I could find the lost time
that would lead me
to your used dreams.

I try with all my strength
to feel the indifference
of signposts.

My body, abandoned to fate
in the fifth corner of the clock,
today collides
with next year's illusion,
for which I will not be able
to be reborn.

There is little enough time left
to put a juicy dot
and start another farewell letter.

I will find in you that despised
morning that took away
my deadly future.
Perhaps one evening
I will understand
the power
of your recalcitrant distance.

I will write a poem on your back
that will not scare this year's
tears away.

I am the silence
which prays to your words.
I try to find the silence
that will bring me the ballad
sung by your heart.

I try to reach the very beginning
of this poem, although I know
that it does not face me
with a smile.

I do not know how many light years
it will take me to find
your tenderness,
the wind that scatters
your pale memories.

I want to immerse myself
in the abyss of your body,
to taste the moment that glues
our torn wings together,
that seeks existence
where only desire can reach.

Try to feel the last of your breath,
to understand the pain
that is bothering you again.

I'm crossing out the last sentence,
it's time to start
from the beginning.
The last star will witness
the fall of this year's paradise.

I fall apart into missing pieces,
I suffocate with light.
My Dark Messiah, I fall asleep
at the very beginning
of a sentence.
I am reborn, although
my body
is going in a different direction.

I try to understand
the silence
that fills your tears,
the spasmodic cry for victory.

I do not succumb to illusions
that spread at the speed
of light.
I don't fall in love
with words that have no thoughts
of their own.

I would like to free myself
from this autobiography.
My tired, sleepless time
would rather
please my nights -
I know that memories will return,
that they will lead me
to the edge of this land of hatred.

I dream so that you can
free yourself from the shackles
of fear.
I'm having an interesting
conversation with myself.
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