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#hiraeth
In the stillness of dawn, a soldier dreams, Of a home left behind, or was it just a gleam? Hiraeth grips the heart, a silent yearning stream, For a place he cannot reach, but knows by heart's theme. Memories flicker like stars in the night, Of laughter and warmth, of love shining bright. Yet the battlefield's echoes drown out the sight, A soldier's dream of home, in the midst of the fight. Hiraeth whispers in the rustling leaves, A home unrealised, a heart that grieves. Through the chaos and noise, a soul believes, In the dream of returning, a soldier achieves.
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May 26
May 26, 2026 at 7:02 AM UTC
Taunts of a Soldier's Hiraeth
Our saving grace now leaves me with a perplexing taste of hiraeth in my mouth In our moment of need, we clung to it although simple and dashingly ordinary we wouldn't be here without it but now that it inches toward its inevitable end I am filled with bitter nostalgia one of empty promises for even when our season was ending I cared for you nonetheless I clung to your ruminating sweet taste for even when your newfound thorns engulfed me I held on watering jug in hand and laid my eyes on your grand opulent tree just as fondly as before Now we are back in season but my hands have grown rough and weary from the thorns of yesterday your once dulcet taste repulses me for the taste of my blood is surprisingly pungent.
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Apr 13, 2021
Apr 13, 2021 at 2:03 AM UTC
Fruits of Labor
If our tongues were blades, They'd be hiraeth lulling me to sleep. An exotic dance, a battlefield
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Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 10:24 AM UTC
Kisses
Where is my old childhood lost A paradise it was in those fields I long now for a untimed halt, A way back to those reveries. The Sun barely lightens up the soul, It is, within me   . .. winter freeze. A sabrelight of foregone days strike, A forlorn descent into insanity. Optimism comes at a price, of course, There is but not much to usurp. Thus I sit in despair and toil _ Away to faraway runaway scenes. Foreboding, apprehensive are the skies, My thoughts, my muses .. only company.
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Nov 26, 2020
Nov 26, 2020 at 10:22 PM UTC
Hiraeth
Oh how silly for a heart to yearn for a home that doesnt exist For a chest to ache with the sickness that one only gets when they've traveled too far For a soul to feel as though it were born in the wrong universe For hands to tingle with idle magic at their fingertips Until it overflows, onto a page, into a song, over pillows and sheets as tears cascade and stain and drown Oh how tragic for Hiraeth to take hold
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Oct 29, 2020
Oct 29, 2020 at 6:03 AM UTC
Hiraeth
He called me Hiraeth and I never knew why he carried me in cupped hands like water, like evaporating rain. He called me Hiraeth and i never knew why he held me in clenched arms like ghosts, like people he has already lost He called me Hiraeth and I never knew why he dropped me through stratospheres like atom bombs like war, famine, hate He called me Hiraeth and I never knew why he watched me through refugee eyes like a burned home like a train barreling into the night
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Aug 19, 2020
Aug 19, 2020 at 1:17 PM UTC
Hiraeth
Like sand he slipped away from me he was Hiraeth a lost home to me
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Aug 19, 2020
Aug 19, 2020 at 1:01 PM UTC
Hiraeth
earth once inhabited for containment bottled up cider — soon too sour that we do is beautiful but fleeting – living a vile act of pure free will blissful less peaceful the corpses we make
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Jul 27, 2020
Jul 27, 2020 at 6:10 PM UTC
hiraeth
The days go by, as I carry on, in this mundane reality of the burden of toil and shards of turmoil. Amidst this, spiked, is my mind of longing for something lost in the passage of time, a memory. A want for sanity amidst the rampant insanity. A path to a place, a home. As we wound ourselves, from the ambiguous predicament.
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Jun 2, 2020
Jun 2, 2020 at 11:51 AM UTC
HIRAETH
I am not here .. This is not me .. The hands. They're tied The eyes, can they even see? I am not here .. My heart aches furthest away My lips still taste freshness of the dew Wisp of the morning air as I alight here Those far off hills still hear my silence Strengthen my arms to attain a balance In an utterly unbalanced existence Of bidding at a foreigners' coherence Emotionally capsized as I try to rise Mindless, alive _ as I count my breath This is not me .. I do not live here .. Humility defeated at novelty's sake Honesty killed at the behemoth's gate Humming a hymn of the hilly way Gathering pain for all It is at stake Making a living, just not living today This is not me .. Find me someplace else Have never been charred as I seem Have never been jaded and careless Over analysing was a known part Yet I let it all just go by cynic's way This is not me .. I have to dream now Final reprieve from this trying stay Heaven stands witness I tried today Quitting sans fight has never been my way Caged yet with the birds I warged in today Love in their flight, wish I could stay Wish I could stay I am not here Not at all here Today
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Mar 30, 2020
Mar 30, 2020 at 3:51 AM UTC
Subterranean Homesick Alien
midnights still find me retracing the moments that led to our thousand lakeside kisses; they were secrets left in a summer dream. each second — a bowline knot leading straight to our late night drives and vehicle breakdowns and last minute goodbyes at the break of dawn. midnights still find me sleeping next to a shoebox of the books you left; i still hear your voice when i read the lines of your favorite paragraphs the clock hands, mocking, leading me through a maze of memories and parking lot conversations. midnights still find me rewriting histories with resin-pressed flowers, maybe the petals will point to where i started losing you — and maybe it's in every direction. the black, bold numbers have become my crumbs leading to road trips and to all the bus stops we missed, kissing; now i still miss my stop without your lips next to mine. and midnights still find me writing poems like these but clearly, you're too far off for these words to reach. and now, midnights still find me wanting you back. and 'til now, midnights still find you gone.
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Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 7:52 AM UTC
hiraeth
My love for you has started to astrophy Muscel memory only exist if you can actually remember how to use it And my heart has been cold for a long time Frozen in a state of anguish I do not want it back Because with it comes pain and heartache I can not take it anymore My body has had enough It's like self flagellation Only I never see it coming And it ******* carries a heavy punch It's easy to walk around and pretend That Felicity still belongs to me And a lot harder to live in truth and wear my pain on my sleeve, a place my heart should be I've never really had to be in the closet before But with this... With this I find skeletons pilling up around Me  No air left to breath I feel like I am running Running out of time Running out of energy Running out of hope And I refuse to bruise my knees For someone who needs More than I can give
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Jun 13, 2019
Jun 13, 2019 at 1:33 AM UTC
Astrophy
I measure time in intervals of ten Ten seconds; The amount of time it takes for words to leave your lips and hit my ears like they were wrapped up in anthrax, poisonous. Ten minutes; The amount of time It took me to convince myself that everything you conditioned me to believe is your truth, not mine. Ten months; The amount of time it will take me to feel like you no longer have a hold on me, free. Ten years; The amount of time before All of the cracks and pieces you took from me all fine their way back, complete. I measure time in intervals of ten, Because ten is a hell of a lot easier than forever.
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Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 4:25 AM UTC
Ten
Occasionally I forget you're gone Like when I take a few seconds To notice the leaves have changed The smell of cinnamon pollutes the air But It only ever lasts a few seconds And then Im back Counting down month's Days Minutes Seconds And I can not help but to wonder When occasionally will show up agian
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Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 3:07 AM UTC
Occasionally
Distance is a weird phenomenon, so is time. We were two continents apart, yet connected. So far yet so close. We are in the same city and yet I can't see you. So close yet so far. Maybe because tears often blur my vision. I talk to you and you make everything sound so normal, like nothing ever changed. We never stopped talking. But we never started as well. And now that you're going, I feel like you were long gone before you came back. I think it's fair enough: we didn't meet when you left, we didn't meet when you came back. I hope this settles the score. Until next time, All my love.
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Mar 2, 2019
Mar 2, 2019 at 11:52 AM UTC
An unsent letter
The sound of home isn’t an ordinary sound. It’s the sound you hear when your laughing with your family. It’s the sound you hear when a guitar plays from the corner of your ear. The way his guitar strums and makes me feel warm Inside, like warm tea going down your throat. The feeling of home isn’t an ordinary feeling. It’s the goosebumps you get as a leaf blows by you. The colour orange as a constant reminder of your Childhood, like the rain that drips from the grey skies. I can not define home with just words, but i can with silence. The pitter-patter of rain immune to me to become the silence. No birds or grasshoppers chirping, not even any sound from the wild thieves with striped tails wondering in the night. Only the sound of memories repeating in my head. And the images repeating to bring a smile to my face. To make me think to myself, that’s my home and i’ll never forget it.
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Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 5:52 PM UTC
A Home to Remember
homesick for the home that never been mine homesick for the home that never existed missing you that never been mine you exist but you were still not mine you are my house i go back to but never my home you exist but never was my home
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Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 4:53 AM UTC
Hiraeth
when i open my eyes all i see are the ghosts of yesterday their silhouettes dancing along my walls in the morning light i see all of the promises broken wishes left unspoken and my heart longs for something something it's never truly known but when i close my eyes i see you and i lost in the forest of your eyes your lips deeply pressed against mine fireworks illuminate the sky and for once my heart beats slowly it doesn't long for anything for once i feel at home
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Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 3:19 PM UTC
hiraeth
Hiraeth calls me it is painful and sometimes ineffable I could not word it longing, longing, longing your name, you know is mellifluous But hiraeth calls me I'm in limerence with the thought of you Maybe that is why I can not stand it everytime you look at me and speak this feeling is illicit I want you And hiraeth calls me I'm feeling homesick home, home, home to you, you know I can not return you were never mine.
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Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 3:32 PM UTC
Hiraeth
You're the dark blue hue set over the beauty of untravelled worlds Drawing me back to the blanket of a comforting home Drowning me in sickly sweet memories Turning my hopes and my dreams to pointless could of beens You're the poloroids stuck to the shabby cabin walls A constant burning reminder of what I left behind A snapshot of a non-existent place That I yearn so hard to go home and find You're an anxious longing for untouched perfection I wish to hold it in my gentle hands A love for the soft yet constant melody Of an old song from my favourite band You hold me back, hugging me in the comfort of your wooden arms I'm oblivious that the plane I board will turn your wood to charcoal And my perfect metallic palace Will rust in the acid rain
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Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 3:36 PM UTC
Hiraeth
In a castle constructed of bones on a mountain high, our hero sits alone on an ivory throne, waiting for his current state of jejune to pass. Whisperings of a voice, mellifluous air, a singing so beautiful his heart skips a beat at the gentle murmurings of such an ethereal voice. And so he vacates his ivory throne in search of this songbird that has invaded his walls, the voice instils a certain hiraeth in his mind, that village once so dear to him that now lies in ruins due to his incandescent bursts of magical madness. The owner of this voice, the eloquence, the elegance, the image in his head that of a maiden on a rock, as naked as the day she was born and bathed in an iridescent sunrise. A scintilla of a break in her voice and she begins to sob at the meaning of her words. He finds the source of this angelic sound, a woebegone but comely creature supine on a table, her eyes staring into heavenly mountains of madness. She does not look to meet his wild-eyed gaze, instead melting away until she is nothing at all, leaving only dancing embers and phosphenes where she had lain. He hears this burst of angelic quavers every day but his madness permits no memory of each to reside in his brain, comfortable and snug. Instead, he suffers this delusion every morning, when his head his quiet and thoughts are oblivion. This siren swansong has no source in reality, it is the last vestige of a mind damaged by time and solitude, where the dawn chorus each morn’s twilight goes unheard, but the ghostly choral vocalisations of a bitter memory break his trance and he searches for the only sound not real.
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Jul 15, 2017
Jul 15, 2017 at 8:03 PM UTC
The Unrequited Love Story of an Unknown King
In a castle constructed of bones on a mountain high, our hero sits alone on an ivory throne, waiting for his current state of jejune to pass. Whisperings of a voice, mellifluous air, a singing so beautiful his heart skips a beat at the gentle murmurings of such an ethereal voice. And so he vacates his ivory throne in search of this songbird that has invaded his walls, the voice instils a certain hiraeth in his mind, that village once so dear to him that now lies in ruins due to his incandescent bursts of magical madness. The owner of this voice, the eloquence, the elegance, the image in his head that of a maiden on a rock, as naked as the day she was born and bathed in an iridescent sunrise. A scintilla of a break in her voice and she begins to sob at the meaning of her words. He finds the source of this angelic sound, a woebegone but comely creature supine on a table, her eyes staring into heavenly mountains of madness. She does not look to meet his wild-eyed gaze, instead melting away until she is nothing at all, leaving only dancing embers and phosphenes where she had lain. He hears this burst of angelic quavers every day but his madness permits no memory of each to reside in his brain, comfortable and snug. Instead, he suffers this delusion every morning, when his head his quiet and thoughts are oblivion. This siren swansong has no source in reality, it is the last vestige of a mind damaged by time and solitude, where the dawn chorus each morn’s twilight goes unheard, but the ghostly choral vocalisations of a bitter memory break his trance and he searches for the only sound not real.
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you were never home to me but my longing for that was so intense, it almost felt like you were and then all at once i realized; you're my hiraeth to be with you, inside our own four walls, was all i desired but our house was destined to burn down our love is a set of stars that make up a constellation too complicated for even the most experienced astrologists to decipher but you will continue to be my hiraeth because the comfort i feel when im in your arms is incomparable and although you cant be, you will always feel like home to me i yearned for our love to be forever but it was meant to desist and then all at once i realized; it's our ephemeral lamentably, it can't be our forever for it was made of stars, and all stars have to die out eventually but let's let it be ephemeral because although the stars will dwindle away soon, while they are still burning bright, they are beautiful, and so are we
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Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 3:00 PM UTC
Home?
Then it hit me: You're my hiraeth You never held home in your heart Only smelled like it when you held me in your arms You've got wanderer written inside your bones You could never be my home I only thought you were Because I wanted you to be I wanted to belong with you, inside four walls, forever But we were meant to explode and burn There's no caution to our love We can't be each other's security Our love is made of fire and stars, combusting and combusting until there's nothing left behind But I'll let you be my hiraeth Because you hold adventure in your eyes Begging me with just a look "one more ride?" And I know you've got a string tied around my heart As i run along side Then it hit me: You're my ephemeral You were never meant to last Only held too much wisdom in your past You're going to die before you're old For only so long can your veins pump gold I only thought you would last Because I wanted you to I wanted you to be forever, to lay here forever with me, at home But you were meant to burn out Live fast, love hard, and die before your time You can't be my forever We are made of matches and candles and rushed kisses and goodbyes But I'll let you be my ephemeral Because you hold knowledge in your eyes And when I beg you "just one last ride?" You smile as if you know it will be Because every moment is your last
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Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 9:18 PM UTC
It Hit Me