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Coleen Mzarriz Sep 2022
Have you ever considered that if someone is lost, they were once good?
Have you ever wondered if clouds were mists and what raindrops are if rain exists?
It was these nonsensical questions you always find common to believe in,
like when you talk about metaphors, you always think of "rain."

But the moon figured out it was to give comfort to people who truly needed it at this time.
It was unbearable for some, but for you, dear?
For once, it was almost as if you were being embraced by the platonic moon, who once favored the good, and for once, it never happened again.

The wind is metaphorically a duvet, comforting, warm, and private, innocent and cold.
When the wind whistles and calls for the sky, the sky turns akin to one’s warmth of soft lilted voice and embraces the skin of once lost, a phrase everyone uses in things they find wondrous.

But have you ever wondered if the moon has figured out if he is also one of the good?
If he did, then why did he brush off the earth?
He went far away, visible to the naked eye—and never to be reached.

He left the Creator's dearest one, and everyone gets lonely at night, trying to understand why they grew fond of him—but he never once went down to embrace his own kin, yet he left a half of his own, so he could die when the sun arose from his seat, and he could rest until it was his turn to look over for people who needed his company, even if it was only for a few hours.

He knew it got sad at night, and by this time he, for once, favored the good and never to be seen again but felt.
I always love writing about the moon.
I dream
as a flower,
in waves
as I open
the pages
of a book,
I bloom
and reality
while in
sips of tea,
the people
I walk past,
they too,
are beings
of water
in the  
oceans of
the mind,
visitors of
the earth,
stars are
in the words
they speak
within the
the ease
of the
hour, the
seeds lift
for the
moon in
the eyes
they held
for one
it is in
the depth
in the
to only
of the
of love
I, the
wish to
sing to
“all the
is, by
the sight
of the
so then,
all the things
they behold
as they are,
Pranav Khanna Jan 2020
Your eyes shine brighter than the sun,
                    they make it look so bleak,
your eyes, more beautiful than the night sky,
                   make the universe's beauty seem so weak.

Your hair, oh, they fall much so perfectly o'er your face,
                   and those streaks, the way they sneak out from behind your hair,
are like Picasso's finest stroke,
                   like that one perfect sun ray coming out of dark clouds, cutting through air.

Your smile, the most beautiful wonder in the universe,
                  so perfect, it would make the golden ration obsolete,
And those shiny white beautiful teeth that brighten this dark world,
                 Make the world so colourful, and more importantly, my life, complete.

Your voice, like the song of a Nightingale,
                 So melodious and harmonious that even the best singers would shy away,
So mesmerising, that once listened to,
                 One might find it impossible to stay away.

Your touch, like a feather brushes against one’s skin,
                 So soft, yet so warming that it would melt the harshest of hearts,
Your touch, gentle as silence,
                 Speaks volumes for itself, and you, how wonderful a person thou art.

Your laughter could heal all wounds,
                Its so beautiful that even the Gods would come down to witness it,
The way you cover your face while you’re at it,
               Makes you look, the prettiest lady, finer by every bit.

You are as perfect as perfect can be,
                 You are the eighth wonder,
That people would **** to be know to,
                 As beautiful as Aphrodite, that you’d make a man wonder.

You are more precious than the life itself,
                 You are the reason people still have hope,
You are the definition of perfection,
                 Your talks are so flipping dope!
Her, someone who makes me feel special and this world more colourful.
Her, a person i can count on forever for she is so wonderful.
Beautiful, is the sight of depths within one’s eyes.
Like Celestial bodies magnified in the confines of the ocular speck.
As if Nebuli birthing Stars, revolving around a Blackhole,
or that of a storm circling the pockets of Gravity.

Who can escape the entrapment of wonder, as they look within?
Curiosity like the peaks of the great Pyramid,
staring afar the belt of Orion - a child-like pondering.
All who see it, imparted with a glisten of glee - the ecstasy of hope within.
I was inspired to write this, as I stared into the eyes of a peer - as I stared therein, I saw a nebula of sorts.
Rosely Medina Dec 2018
This, my darling, is what you call divine -
my good for nothing, wondrous soul. Take but a step inside - let the beauty bedazzle you. Find yourself in outer space and let the shooting stars of my heartstrings guide you home.
Jay Dec 2017
There are wings
Trapped beneath
My fragile skin

There are stars
Trapped beneath
My blue-green eyes

There are demons
Trapped beneath
My light hair

There are forests
Trapped beneath
My rib cage

There are supernovas
Trapped beneath
My fingertips

There are all these
Wild, wonderful, beautiful
Things trapped within me

But instead,
All that comes out is
Ugly, awful, hideous

I wish you could
See my stars and forests
I wish we could explore them
I wish that I could
Show someone my wings
And fly to the supernovas
That resides in my fingertips

I want to show
All these stunning things
But they are
Just like me
The demons are not wonderful or beautiful. They are monstrous, treacherous and vile. I wish to let them out so they are not trapped within me any longer but I could never let them out for fear they'd hurt someone else. I suppose some things are meant to be trapped.
Steve Page Aug 2017
'in this light'
not 'just now'
not 'at first sight'
not 'from this angle,'
after scrutiny,
from all perspectives,
you are absolutely -
Some things are absolute not relative. It needs said.
Jawad May 2017
Spring in the north
Fall in the south

Sky and seas, blue
Brown and green, lands

Sand on the shore,
Beneath the seas

Water on top
And under earth

Same heart that loves
Does also hate

Pain during birth
Release by death

Same child that cries
Shouts when grown up

Different skins
In different shades

Yet beneath them
Flesh, just the same

Different tongues
Different words

Yet all languages
Have ‘I love you

Wondrous world
Wonderful life

Yet we don’t much
Notice and care

Thinking about the seemingly little wonders in life...
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