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Soul Jul 1
Cradled in my
old broken holder,
your edges once
smooth—now all frayed;
Covered in grey
thick paint,
with pleading eyes,
you wait, to be
held in my
fragile
fingers.
But still
you kept your
lips stitched
with cobwebs.
Is that because,
a single touch of
yours, would scratch
the new-born
paper? Brush
Heartfelt kindness
Soul Jun 29
The dangling leaf at the edge of a twig.
waiting to be caught by a gentle swig;
"Why not shall I, if you are awful dread,"
for he just slipped into the dreams ahead.

Swinging from side-to-side the leaf goes,
The blade; oh sweet, so smooth, tickles her toes.
His cunning eyes, glistening with mischief,
lets her slip away, the smile of relief.

The tender breeze tip-toeing at the edge,
waits until he searches her over the hedge.
Sweeping past the weightless sighs of the skies,
his heart races to the soft lullabies.

As his golden touch came into her sight,
She blushed and giggled; With a laugh so light.
The sly leaf crawled cozy on her lap.
With cheeks of caramel; there left no sap.

Up and down the hills, their happy feet rolled.
in the deep dark woods, hand-in-hand they strolled.
The great treows, all bowed with crowned heads, all low,
along they tracked their trails, each step so slow.

Red robins with voices beyond the lyre,
sang sweet songs that made them never feel tire.
Whispering secrets, hummed the swarm of bees;
as the shy sun melted into the seas.

Along the coastal strip, that's full of sand,
they built yellow sand castles, all so grand.
The leaf blade cut the black ebony doors.
The touch of the breeze smoothed all; sky loors.

Seeing the two hands being hold up tight,
the moon, into the sky, it took a flight.
Their irises bloomed like blue berry dyes,
when met upon their vulnerable eyes.

Over the glistening marine seas they flew,
as on their soft peach cheeks, the moonlight grew.
In the blue spotlight they began the dance,
as the stars shined out to take a good glance.

To borrow their small breaths the dolphins swam,
to light the scene the pearl glowed of Mr. Clam.
Their calm reflections followed as they go,
they held red roses in their merry slow row.

In the night skies they drew Andromeda,
racing a past the fastest comet-a.
Soon the days of sorrow began to rang,
seeing Venus, in the journey,—they sang.

The mighty seas who blessed, changed it's mind,
not gentle at all, he who was so kind.
Up roared the rough waves of anger and rage,
trying to force the leaf into a cage.

The entire scene of their story transforms,
from all directions, evoked thunder storms.
Their love never died, 'cause their hearts were strong,
for they wrapped themselves, to meet fate along.

Through the deathly grey-blue arcs the two rode,
holding each other not slipping the code.
Unexpectedly, her cheeks touched his nose,
The battles held on, to smile for a pose.

As the traitors left, the two of them knelt,
as inside them, tough heaviness they felt.
The shining edges of pure gold were all torn,
the sweet chuckles of the breeze, all were worn.

As they gently walked across the lawn,
bringing life back that came out at the dawn.
Bluish dew drops shone on green yards along,
as their hearts hummed, murmuring a soft song.

As they came to an old, forlorn cottage,
only dusted pots left with some potage.
A heap of ash lay in the frozen hearth,
No tender sprout grew in the near-by earth.

Flew the leaf with grey stones stitched to its bones,
holding shards of glass; the breeze runs and moans.
The two moved through the lonely dull walkway,
with fingers intertwined, no words to say.

They journeyed so far as long as they could,
for they didn't mind time, as if it's stood.
Their breaths smelled of a garland of daisies,
for they smelled pure joy like new born babies.

Underneath tall box-grey giants they roamed,
as thick black ***** swept past her hair—they combed.
The floor roared vibrations from everywhere,
folding the two into a dark nightmare.

As she let out a sneeze the leaf went low,
Into a white disc he crashed with a blow.
For they didn't know it's a busy road,
Into a cogged drain he fell like a toad.

Soaked in wet the leaf horribly howled,
she couldn't resist, the voice once crawled.
The worn breeze chased him ignoring each bent,
for she followed every echo that went.

The fragile curves of her lips all were snatched,
her white gown of silk, every part was scratched.
Her fingers reached out, but tears rolled down,
for they never touched his, in the harsh town.

Blocked her way the snow etched bars in the drain,
she burst up high in the midst of the rain.
Over the metals she ran on her way,
secretly listening to words he say.

Every inch went cold as winter arrives,
the leaf hid in the depths of frozen thrives.
The breeze lay her heart so low with blind eyes,
as the last ray faded into the ice.
A poem, about nature, and how it is polluted going through a scene of Romance...
Soul Jun 28
From the tiny
chest of yours,
dangles a white
thread wrapped
in thick dust;
Your face all
etched with
cobwebs
grey;—
I found you on
my old table,
beside my
blunt needle
which I held
in my soft palms
fifty years ago.
Tell me,
will you?
Did your heart
belonged to
someone,
once,
long
ago?
A love so long, hidden, not knowing if it was so…
Soul Jun 27
(To the one that no one sees)

Hidden in the depths
of my fractured ribs,
burning my heart
with hot-waves,
you hid.
Born,
when all
tore my hands
for drawing my
ink soaked thoughts
in black.
Promise me;
To not let
my heart break,
just let it melt till
none is left,
will you?
I am actually busy these days, & so poems float into my mind. I just write them down, but my parents wont allow thinking it would distract my studies. Anger approaches me. But I wait in silence, still doing what I love, knowing that it is my psychologist who reduces my stress, till it fades, not partly but completely...
Soul Jun 27
Fingers all stretched,
your arms wide opened;
As the mighty skies
shed their solemn
tear drops.
By them,
you soaked the
veined roots gently,
until green tender
leaves dance in
delight;—
Not earning a
single smile.
But why?
Why did you
reach out your
bare hands to
get scratched by
thorns?
The great people are not the ones who pass exams and achieve degrees. The great ones are the ones who serve the society honestly and trying to help others by listening to each of their wounds and reaching them to uplift their status. That kind of heart is very rare, but that is what the present lacks...
Soul Jun 26
Charged;
Defrauded;
Roaring with rage,
you hid in my
duct, hovering
a blanket over
you, closer
to my
vulnerable
left eye.—
You etched
a tear drop,
drowned in
silence.
Will you
ever let it
fall?
Have you ever hidden your pain to someone? Thinking it would do better?...
Soul Jun 26
Shinning bright
in the misty night,
the only light
in sight;—
From your polished
face, I waited
once for long.
Like a song
it ended, leaving
you on my sighing
bare hands.
In the distant lands
my fame grew;—
Not a single dew
drop I saw
in my raw
life.
But why?
I cried;—
Why did
you left my
heart lie,
made of
tough;
grey steel—
Still warm
from the fire
you never meant
to stay?
Succeeding Life doesn't mean you let others fall as you move on the track...
The heat is irritating,
So never argue under a blistering sun,
Though you shouldn’t wait until streets are iced over,
Rage will freeze into cold, logical things.
Tear water freezing in between,
In the kind of way that makes you miss the rain,
The steam rolling off an anguished face.
When there was heat and humidity,
But no rainbow,
A little too much of something broke the recipe.
It’s hitting 100 degrees in Rochester today, pieces of me are melting.
Let me paint you a picture.

Red glasses filled with empty words.
Mirrors that don’t catch your reflection.
Blue and white lilies covering the floor—a floor I once knew.
It is the same floor I spend half of my days crying on.

There’s music.
Music filling the voids of an empty space where my heart was supposed to be.
It resonates through every cavity, through every bone, but my dead soul cannot hear it.
The blood is no longer running through my veins,
And my lips—once filled with love and affection—are as dark as the moment.
How easy is it to die of a broken heart?
Is it really broken? Or am I going crazy while I watch it fall and shatter around my lily-covered floor?

I crawl to pick up the pieces,
And I cut myself on every little bit,
But there’s nothing coming out of my fingers—just the sorrow of a few tears.

Empty.
Empty body, empty eyes, empty mind, empty soul of mine.
Should I remake my heart? Should I get the glue and put it all together again?
Or should I just keep cutting myself with the pieces?

Maybe I should let it be as it is.
There’s beauty in a broken heart.
I wrote this up in the bus on my way to work after hearing “Comptine d’un autre été, l’après-midi”
Kyla Jun 22
i burn with fury
he could leave me
but i don’t have that luxury
he saved himself from me
i am held hostage
by this obligation to live
his abandonment is not termed
selfish the way mine would be
so i stay,
alone with the knowledge that i am someone people leave.
someone everyone leaves
i wish i could leave too
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