#selfwritten - Hello Poetry

(a Shakespearean sonnet by MysticRiddleton) Lake of mirror from beneath, On thee reclines the wet gray cotton sea Glowing faintly overneath Projects penumbras of the tree Pictures alter by the angle Heaven slithers swift as I Near and closely leans in angle Sees thy creature eye to eye Alas! The radiance that makes thee luster Decides to pluck thee bit by bit Pictures fading by the mirror Lake of mirror, be not beat! Keep thy stagnant lake, oh mirror Let thou ripple with some vapor.

0

Sep 26, 2017

Sep 26, 2017 at 10:55 AM UTC

MysticRiddleton

LAKE OF MIRROR

(a Shakespearean sonnet by MysticRiddleton) Lake of mirror from beneath, On thee reclines the wet gray cotton sea Glowing faintly overneath Projects penumbras of the tree Pictures alter by the angle Heaven slithers swift as I Near and closely leans in angle Sees thy creature eye to eye Alas! The radiance that makes thee luster Decides to pluck thee bit by bit Pictures fading by the mirror Lake of mirror, be not beat! Keep thy stagnant lake, oh mirror Let thou ripple with some vapor.

15

On that Sunday morning I turned to the left side of the bed reaching to grab your hand but I found nothing but your absence reaching back grabbing my hand pulling me out of bed yet leaving my body there walking me through the empty rooms filled with your echo and scent that I breathe in and out while wandering still being held hostage by your absence it's like it's trying to show me something that's been hiding in the gaps you left in my heart and soul I can't sleep at night knowing I can't reach for your hand or comfort or kiss me goodbye before you leave I begged you please yet there was still nothing but empty bedsheets and broken promises in the kitchen and some lost dreams on the balcony

0

Dec 7, 2017

Dec 7, 2017 at 5:45 PM UTC

Inkspilled

Your absence reached back

On that Sunday morning I turned to the left side of the bed reaching to grab your hand but I found nothing but your absence reaching back grabbing my hand pulling me out of bed yet leaving my body there walking me through the empty rooms filled with your echo and scent that I breathe in and out while wandering still being held hostage by your absence it's like it's trying to show me something that's been hiding in the gaps you left in my heart and soul I can't sleep at night knowing I can't reach for your hand or comfort or kiss me goodbye before you leave I begged you please yet there was still nothing but empty bedsheets and broken promises in the kitchen and some lost dreams on the balcony

1

No one left to wipe her tears No soul to embrace Shattered promises and shattered hearts She thinks, she ponders. What is this? She prays. When the walls listen better when the darkness feels brighter And the ghost's hug better. Dissonant it is, she cannot sustain tears turning sweet, actions turning pale, Is this what she wanted? she woefully contemplates. She places herself at the edge of sorrow feeling facetious and morrow, even when not alone, her words echo going deeper and deeper, shallow. unable to differentiate the words, wife or maid? No identity of her own, Feelings decayed. Called as the wife, daughter, or mater. Will she be able to live like this hereafter? Maybe the little girl could explain as she embrace how this is not love, my future self, You have to escape.

0

Mar 31, 2025

Mar 31, 2025 at 1:37 PM UTC

leya09

What is this?

No one left to wipe her tears No soul to embrace Shattered promises and shattered hearts She thinks, she ponders. What is this? She prays. When the walls listen better when the darkness feels brighter And the ghost's hug better. Dissonant it is, she cannot sustain tears turning sweet, actions turning pale, Is this what she wanted? she woefully contemplates. She places herself at the edge of sorrow feeling facetious and morrow, even when not alone, her words echo going deeper and deeper, shallow. unable to differentiate the words, wife or maid? No identity of her own, Feelings decayed. Called as the wife, daughter, or mater. Will she be able to live like this hereafter? Maybe the little girl could explain as she embrace how this is not love, my future self, You have to escape.

25