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the tides swell
and hearts quell

my body shakes in anticipation
of profund ecstasy of liberation
and not the emptiness of libations

the bright moon light keeps the revelers out
thirsting for soemthing they cannot name
in a drunken fanatic frenzy they shout
claiming a new change in life when they remain the same

the ocean waves crash
and so do my thoughts
an uncontrollable maelstrom that spreads like a rash
only to find peace in the still silence I've always sought

Finally I am home and I bask in the light of the full moon

I too was a reveled once howling at the moon
but now instead I drink in the spirit of life
I might have spoke too soon
because my heart still feels stife
shahzeb k Jan 2016
She calls on you
like the blisfull
mermaid
the is reconing doenst bother
who is where
she is but the start of an unformal affair
the wife of many and the truth
uncompared
she is but a mermaid
staring in the distance the long lost love
awakens a shinning bright spark
of another prey
she is the worst of all predators
you do not know my dear
what is the wrongess and the darkness of the matter
the vengeful is still at large
the bliss is atlast come to the poise of unconditional salvage
the attorney of the sage is but his past
the wise tell you to take retreat
in the shell of death
the sage tells you to step ahead
for the moses of times
is just blind by the rage of the matter
is a customary shatter
the bliss is real my friend you see
you are not involved in the pscychopath drama
they have crafted your nerves so well you become the cup the drama the morphine to your pains is but another tragedy a bigger one to ease the pains of the past lives
you are the serendipitous archive of the documented torture a mind can concieve or relive in the lonliness
the shutter of the blind called eyes may not blink but the urge to put inside a prickly object to bleed your self out
at least somthing should come out not a word not a sound but more and more profund silence a more psychlogical war fare
a more deadly hit
a more angered adversary
the more precise path
is that of forgiveness
your choices lead you here
you can choose a new destination
your sights must not fail
you are but an unanswered prayer
you are but an unanswered prayer...
my wounds are my words i hope to turn them to flowers  with practice i hope sure soon
blackbiird Mar 2019

a word is a poem.
a line is a poem.
a thought is a poem.
a poem is whatever you want it to be.
a poem can be that love note
that you leave on your crush's locker.
a poem can be that lonely 3 a.m thought
that you can't seem to get out of your head.
a poem could be the most profund thing
or the most simple thing.

that "thing" is not for others to decide
but for you to decide for yourself.

a poem is what you make of it.

gabby Aug 2020
pain creates the most
profund poetry,
pain creates the most
shiny pearls,
pain is the tool
that changes who we are,
pain is the sharp wind
in winters,
something you undoubtely feel
when you are brave.
an alarm signal,
a remider that your body is not
translucid and that it shines.
you try to escape reality,
but the remais of past
come agressively in waves.
morfine.
anyone can hurt you
and you are anyone too.
so what can we do?
pain starts and ends
a war.

pain is better than fear
as the blue skies are
better than the grey ones
.
....and i dare to say i am feeling better

— The End —