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Troves of rotting treasures
Marked the highest morning tide
Where the ocean’s foaming tongue
Left its print upon the land.
I trifled with the sea wrack
That was scrawled upon the sand
When a seaborne scent came wafting;
Onward sailing to the shore.

Pale, aghast, I stood in awe
To curse the wretched thing I saw.

Yet counting footprints from the scene
The vision haunts me all the more;
Forever sailing to the fore
Upon the winds of sordid thoughts,
Where my mind is ever stained,
Though one question there remains -
How a body, once alive,
Could be so full of eels.
Drunk lovers writing songs on stages of upset,
Corners of rooms filled with fools, kissing whispers of sweet melody
Wretched beings cast aside, stare from afar at their scenes of lust
Drunk lovers writing songs on stages of upset,
Look upon those wretched beings standing deaf to your melody
IncholPoem Jan 22
The  Hindu  wealth  Goddes
'Laxmi'  left  a
youth's   mind,body
and  soul.

He  became
wretched.

Rupees  did  no
   become  Dollar, Pound.

Rice  plate
  did  not  become
Biriyani plate.


River  became
water less.

Reverse  became
  boomerang.


That    one  became
  wretc­hed.


His  future  and  destiny
  became  'wretched'.
M Solav Sep 2018
We were mixed up when it built;
One another forced to coexist.
As it drew us high and higher still,
Below us grew the abyss.

Overflowing with ecstasy,
We left our hearts astray.
The obnubilating and obsolete
Had gotten our way.

Obstacles vanished one by one,
Increasingly slaying the beast.
Moments we thought we'd won
Are when we'd won the least.

We stretched out our hands towards the sky
Like wretched ghosts wrapped in disguise,
As though we had just found a new paradise
With the devil ahead leading as our guide.

We followed him throughout the land:
"This way leads us to the great fountain",
And now we're stuck in a desert of sand
Wondering when oases shall be attained.

We've taken a bet against our nature.
Was it anyone-in-particular's fault?
"For every curse there'll be a cure,
For every flood there'll be a drought."

Once more, again, we shall repeat,
To morrow, and for ever more.
When the sunshine now seems to greet
And when the darkness falls,

Comes that nighttime of our lives;
We ponder what we've been,
But what we're we supposed to be
When the pact was always sealed.

So we wait in such anxiety,
The impatience growing itchy;
And we amass, tall in piles,
To crash onto the shores like the sea.
Written in August 2016.
Umi Aug 2018
Tell your tale to the wind,
Be scattered across the sky, sing without ever being rewarded,
The falling of the leafs may be a sign of change, a warning of colder times crossing your path in this loitering darkness which takes over,
Allure is the thought of hope guiding, leading, escorting you through the misery of your own conscious, out to a far more pleasant world.
Wretched, you fight on as it slowly slips away, loses its strengh,
It is heartbreaking to watch them trying to get back, not flinching despite their wounds and scars they carry from the river of time,
Stained in crimson at last the flower petals of the falling season, reflect upon death repeatedly, with each one falling the soil cries out.
Take a dance with me in this distorted somber dark there is nothing to be sad about, the fate to be forgotten is the fate of every face, one day,
They wither over like the roses during autumn, fall from grace alike the petals of the sunflowers when their time to leave for the next generation has come, or alike the dandelions scattering their seeds,
But most importantly, is to not forget that whilst existing you can make a change, for yourself, for the better, for others,
Maybe you are their light their flower of a spring dream.
Even if humans continue to live wretchedly,
Living, is what I find very beautiful.

~ Umi
Don't cross the border of the conscious too early, fall when the time to wither has come.
Äŧül May 2017
Life, wretched life,
Mine is a long dark night.
Life, wretched life,
Mine is a long dark night.

I could never escape it,
What have I got after all?
What have I got but suffering?

Some bittersweet memories,
And some tear-jerking ones?
Every happiness shrouds a grief,
Every happiness shrouds a sorrow.

Life, wretched life,
Mine is a long dark night.
Life, wretched life,
Mine is a long dark night.

Oh my life,
So messed up,
In my life.

Oh my life,
So messed up,
In my life.

Life, wretched life,
Mine is a long dark night.
Life, wretched life,
Mine is a long dark night.

Oh my life,
So messed up,
In my life.

Oh my life,
So messed up,
In my life.
Translation of my original composition called "Zindagi Saali" in Hindi.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0pd8D3aG_kU

My HP Poem #1520
©Atul Kaushal
insomniatrical May 2017
You think you can't be saved
And that no one would adore you,
That if you are wretched, you cannot be divine.

But divinity is for the gods,
Oracles could not have forseen
What you would do to me.

That every word you speak
Would be a brazen network of fire in my ears,
And every breath of yours would be an arctic storm on my skin.
Jack Jenkins Apr 2016
It's easy to say I love you when you are face to face.
It's easy to say I love you when you are inside someone.
It's easy to say I love you when they are caring for you.
It's easy to say I love you when the butterflies are in your
stomach and every waking moment is consumed with one another.

But it's not easy to say I love you when they want nothing to do with you.
It's not easy to say I love you when you know they don't love you.
It's not easy to say I love you when it's been a consistent battle to
remain friends.
It's not easy to say I love you when you always choose guys who
make you feel less than you are.
It's not easy to say I love you when I have been waiting four years for
you to feel anything for me.
And it certainly is not easy to say I love you when there is an ocean
separating the two of us.

I don't love you because I need you, I need you because I love you.
Love is not a feeling, or an emotional connection, or an opportunity not to be alone.
Love is dedication, a choice to knit your heart and soul to another because
nobody else can compare to the joy, peace, affection, and trustworthiness that you have.

So I love you. I love you. I love you.
You may never read this, but it's the deepest part of my love for you.
//On her//
This was my first ever poem, written in December of 2015.
Äŧül Jan 2016
I was a difficult kid,
One who wished till every bit,
Not going to the school.

I still am like that,
But just not that bit I called difficult,
Now I go to the college.
My HP Poem #981
©Atul Kaushal
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