Futile Histoires

Life of a rich spinster

My Soft Chaos is a collection of bruised truths and burning softness poems that wander through ego, ache, love, and everything unnamed. Penned by Mehar, a soul stiched from silence and storm, each verse holds a fragment of my chaos gently unravelled. This is not a cure. It's a mirror for those who feel too deeply to speak.

a very short story of a man learning the meaning of essence and free will *I'm new to writing and would appreciate any feed back at all, thank you*

This is a collection of my most insanely futile attempt at poetry and quoting.

This is not a story, it is a collection of poetry, written by me. Be warned: this poetry isn't for everyone. But it was written cuz I like writing, not cuz you like reading. :)

(to be edited) TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️ CONTENTS THAT SOME READERS MIGHT FIND DISTURBING. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Her only thoughts are of fear and of the need to run. To run anywhere that is away, even to death; then at least she'll have escaped. Note: While this story is dark, it is totally clean. There is no profanity, and no unseemly content. Please comment after reading :)

Depression, Anxiety, Paranoia, Anger, Futility. Five mental weights than can slow or even end your life put into poem form, enjoy.

#1

Futility of indulging in rat race

War.... Some wish it never happens and some wish it never ends. Join a soldier on the front as he fights for his country and also himself. Hear a German Soldier's account of the First World War through the yellowing pages of a diary, streaked with blood, sweat and the struggle for survival. (I don't own the cover)

"Humanity is known for many things, by humanity itself. Wonders such as modern medicine, advanced speech, diverse body types, culture, architecture, and scientific discoveries to name a few." There are many stories about the end of the world, there are many about Zombies. But there's never been one quite like this. Four teen boys are flung into a forced alliance when the world goes down, leaving an alcoholic, a bitter failed athlete, a moody vegan, and a cheery cannibal to attempt to lead the way to their survival. This creative mess revolves around a whole new outlook on the portrayal of Zombies, and plays on modern standards. Can these boys ever be happy? Will a one sided love ever be pursued? Will they survive?

For the love I have for him, for the sacrifes we have made. For the pain we have endured, for all the wounds we have healed. But our love stays futile.

"People say the eyes are the gateway to the soul. However, when I look in the mirror, all I can see are pitch black, soulless orbs staring back at me. A monster, an ugly face, reflects and I wonder. Is that really me? I strove everyday to prove the mirror right. The mirror must have reflected my true self. Or so I thought. When I finally became the soulless monster I wanted to be, I realized that I lost who I was, my individuality by doing so. As I trailed my fingers along the glass, "I" moved within the mirror. I stared in horror as the insane figure in the glass pointed her finger at me, and laughed. "I" said, "I never liked you, with your ebony black eyes and pretty face. Made me so jealous. Then you saw me. And you wanted to become me. I got what I wanted. No one should be as perfect as you were. I can now proudly say I am you." I fell to my knees. The mirror had lied to me. I became what I swore I wouldn't become. I had conformed. I became a monster that was so adamant into believing that I should be "me" that I lost sight of who I really was. To the outside eye, I was perfect. However, inside, I knew I was broken and gone. I was gone, replaced with "I." A soulless monster. And to this day, I always wonder. Is who I am now the true me? Yet all I can answer was, the world had lied to me, my mirror, my gateway to the soul, has lied to me. I can no longer be me. The moment I realized that, I decided that in a week's time I would jump off the highest cliff. A fitting death. As I plunge down, I'll be meeting "me" through the reflection of the water, and the other side." People from all over the world, tried to get what they want, to strive to be the perfect person within the mirror of the mind. The beautiful, confidant, sophisticated person they want to be. However, by trying to reach there, they lose themselves. For what they see in the mirror is dark mist, an illusion that blocks their true selves. Mankind strives for perfection. Is it truly worth it?

a poem about futility of life.