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Hubbiya Nov 11
I want ink,
No, I need them
With vivid colours,
To highlight the life
And show them the beauty,
Of the life to be lived.
Things that might be keeping me awake,
These tiring nights
Hypnotic dreams making connections,
Way beyond my comprehension.

Are they meant to keep you on your path?
Or grow out of it and fly above the clouds?
An illusion of control?
Or a way to fulfil your soul?

Perplexed at those vivid pictures,
Of places and people left behind
Maybe sometimes just stuck in your mind,
Turning me into a beast of burden.

Wake up from my somnambulism
To find me back in bed
With sunken eyes, holding my head
No meaning to this pretence.

A lullaby went wrong,
A state of trance
A voice inside my head,
Speaking to me like I still had a chance.

'I know you know your pain,
Here's a ticket to hop on that train
The path is treacherous with mist all around,
But have faith, you are heaven bound'

Till the morning comes and the sun is shining bright
Still ******* in my fictitious knots,
I wake up from the slumber
Realizing it's not up to me to join the dots.

Was never great at reading signs
Been living with these feelings somehow,
At the end of the tunnel, there's a light that shines
Time to face the music now.
Oh dreams, what are you?
Coming every night,
Most of the times I don't even remember
Is it good news or bad?
All I know is I need you
For where the world would be,
Without people who had dreams and acted upon them.
annh Aug 27
I closed my eyes against the mortal limitations of this world and settled back to watch reruns of my youth. Discouragement and dissatisfaction gave way to golden hours and glory days, depicted in vivid technicolour and accompanied by a flugelhorn fandango.
‘No story is the same to us after a lapse of time; or rather we who read it are no longer the same interpreters.’
- George Eliot
Lane O Jul 11
Goldenrods and oak
Flecks of emerald and amber
Awake! vivid spring
a little haiku for spring
Lane O Jul 12
Oh, young sunflower!
facing east towards the Sun.
You follow her for hours,
till dusk when day's done.
Her light shines bright;
colors -- vivid and deep.
But when her light ebbs
do you droop and weep?
Britain chokes on the stench
Riddled with strange
Rodents from the dry east blindly
Lead to do away with the finished
Works directed by
Yeshua Almighty, through the born again
Anglo-saxons,
With an ancient trickery
Harkening back to the ruinous fall, orchestrated by
Their father, the illusive chameleon
Guilty of rising up
An illiterate fool,
Yahweh did not inspire.

With time, this Hallowed Island that
Once was shall fully be
Tainted beyond remedy, adopting
Their mirage of lies
Inscribed in their book of *******
Disguised as the guide for life.
Jace Joseph Jun 4
When dreams are so vivid,
all my memories get rigid.
As I don't know which are real,
but nothing has ever been ideal.
So I'll simply write about thee
As I sip my confusion smoothie.
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