Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
With every beat, a tear does fall
From hearts that bleed, for one and all
The weight of pain, the sting of strife
Echoes through their soul, a haunting life

Their empathy, a curse, a blessing true
A heart that feels, for me and you
The joy and sorrow, the highs and lows
A bleeding heart, that forever flows

In a world that's broken, they feel the pain
Of every stranger, every loved one's stain
Their heart, a canvas, of every hue
A masterpiece of love, forever true

So let us cherish, these hearts that bleed
For in their compassion, our humanity's freed...
In whispers of what could've been,

        I'm haunted by the ghost of you within.

        A bittersweet reminder of love's refrain,

        Echoes of memories that bring only pain.

        If only I had never seen your face,

        Perhaps my heart would still be in its place.

        But fate, it seemed, had other plans that day,

        And led me down a path where love would stray.

        Now, in the shadows of what we used to be,

        I'm left to ponder on the what-ifs of you and me.

        The fire that once burned bright with hope and desire,

        Has faded to embers, leaving only a hollow, gnawing fire.

        Oh, the cruel irony of love's design,

        To bring us joy, only to leave us with this hollow, aching mind.

        For in the end, it's not the love we had that hurts,

        But the memories of what could've been, the love that we deserved.
In the shadows of silence, you weave your spell,

A tapestry of words, intricate and swell.

Though few may find them, your lines still shine,

A constellation of thought, divine

Your poetry is a lantern, lit in the night,

Guiding those who stumble, through the dark of life.

Though unread, your words still hold their gentle might,

A soothing balm for souls, lost in the fight.

In the secret chambers of your heart, you write,

A symphony of emotions, a dance of light.

Your pen is a wand, conjuring worlds unseen,

A magic that transforms, and makes the heart serene.

So let your words flow, like a river's stream,

And trust that they will find, their way to a dream.

For in the act of writing, you are free and clear,

A poet, unread, yet full of hope and cheer
I'd write a thousand poems, but you'd still be my favorite piece
I'd osculate a thousand lips and you'd remain my best kiss
I'd run many other races but wish you were the price
for you are the face I'd want to see if my life were a dice
I'd meet the greatest of angels, flowers of beautiful scent
but you'd remain my favorite Heaven sent
I'd make billions from discovery along the thread of time
yet you'd remain the most cherished even without a dime
I'd travel this whole world and you'd still be my dream destination...
I'd eat all food there's on earth, none would be as special
I'd find pearls and rubies and all treasures of the old
yet you would still be a treasure to me greater than gold
I'd read all novels there are and it's our story I'd wish may unfold
I'd let the glass of my heart fall and shutter just to yours hold
and if I had to choose between life and your love
I'd comfort you with the very last inhalation I'd have...
hoping that soon as my eyes are closed your hurt would heal
That's how much you mean to me, and always will...
Gently she raised her dress, revealing where the axe struck the tree,
"Here, a forest once thrived," she whispered solemnly,
Then came the scars, pathways for plastics to reach the sea,
Regret's sewage flowing through springs, an unwanted decree.

Landmines left pockmarks on her face, remnants of war's blight,
Awaiting the innocent, seeking to maim and to ignite,
Deep incisions from perilous landslides, a haunting sight,
A testament to the struggles endured day and night.

She revealed the melting snow, beckoning an avalanche of change,
Witnessing a road where an unsightly swamp once held its range,
Broken ships and skeletons, remnants left estranged,
Abandoned in the depths, hidden in ocean's grange.

Finally, she pointed to the scorching sun with teary eyes, "It didn't burn so fiercely until this heart carried its demise."
Dying is silence
Living is a voice
Dying is dust
Living is a muck
Dying is the end
Living the betwixt
Dying is solace
living is a battle
Dying is a ship
Living is her shuttle
Dying is the object
Living is a shadow
Dying is a destination
Living is the journey
Dying is a night
Living is the moon
Dying is the dusk
Living her mellow
Dying is the answer
Living a question we never ask
Dying is everything
That makes living feel like nothing
as Dying is a must
Living is a choice
the wrong one
will find you in peace
and end up leaving you in pieces

only the right one
can find you in pieces
and guide you to peace
Next page