Imagry Stories

I started penning this one night, completely out of the blue. The inspiration behind this work was SidNaaz, but I feel anyone who has experienced heartbreak or loss may find a little piece of themselves in it. And if you do, I'm truly sorry you had to go through something that made these words relatable.

In the quiet embrace of night, a solitary man wanders through shadows, consumed by memories of his lost love. He visits her tomb, a silent guardian weeping in darkness. An ethereal silver doe appears, symbolizing her lingering spirit, whispering tales of memories growing cold. Bound by pain, he traverses misty paths guided only by the moon, reflecting the tears he cannot hide. As his isolation deepens, the wind carries ghostly whispers of her laughter. Nature mourns with him - the rustling leaves echo his sorrow, and the river murmurs his forlorn dreams. He chases elusive shadows, embarking on an endless journey through the night. Silhouettes of their past are painted across the midnight sky. He reaches out, but they fade beyond grasp. The garden where their love once bloomed lies wilted under the silent moon-a stark symbol of decayed dreams. On a cliff's edge, his whispered vows receive only the ocean's roar in reply-a poignant echo of goodbye. In the end, phantom touches and the ghost of her smile haunt his days. He walks the paths they once shared, each heavy step a silent plea for the impossible. Forever haunted by her name, he bears the weight of his sorrow, keeping their love's flame alive. While the winds carry his silent cries, he conceals his enduring love; yet, his heart remains unhealed. Themes and Analysis: It explores eternal love and the consuming nature of grief. Memories serve as both comfort and torment, binding him to the past. Nature mirrors his inner turmoil - the silver doe and moon reflect his longing, while unachievable desires highlight the futility he feels. Despite time's passage, his wounds remain raw; his journey is one of enduring love that transcends even death. Conclusion: The poem captures a heart trapped between past and present, where memories are both sanctuary and prison. His concealed love and unhealed heart resonate universally, reminding us that some bonds are so strong they leave an indelible mark on the soul.

A collection of simple and silly stories about the lives of cats, whose lives all intertwine in a quaint Café.

Mysteriously reborn, an innocent creature emerges into a new world, without purpose or understanding. Possessing just a child's mind, she waddles forth to achieve what once was in this mysterious realm of everlasting dreams.

The one that got away but is so close

a collection of poems from the heart. these poems were written in times of either strong emotion or immense boredom. a creative outlet full of revealing truths and mysteries of humanity. all of this to aid in finding the answer to the most difficult question: "who am i?" putting yourself, your true self, out there is terrifying. you feel completely exposed. naked. but here i am. and this is me. completely exposed for you to see the reality of me. disclaimer: does include some mature topics that may be triggering for some but none of it is graphic. (this may include mentions of sex, self harm, abusive relationships, death, gender dysphoria, and drugs)

Imagery poem

How I fell for you...

A short MakoHaru fan-fic. <3

Just some poems I've made. Raw, unedited.

Word Count: 1750. ~~~ Mister Dean Lost, Disaster has struck. As the circle of life has repeatedly shown us, death follows life follows death. The dial has fallen back on death, but life is taking too long to show, and I'm afraid the train may hit me before we reach the light at the tunnel's end. So, I decided to write to you, as you are the only one who has yet to call me hysterical. For the longest time, I had no idea the danger. In a sort of matrix, I was protected; or, so I thought. I was never scared of thunderstorms, but the constant rain and clouds became a nuisance to my weekly summer football games. If I had stayed inside the whole time, I wouldn't have had a life. So, one night, I did go. I went to the field and subjected myself to the electric jabs of God's staff, conveniently uncovering the truth in the process: all in a dream! While thunder clapped and lightning circled round like stage lights, I slept still, and so I think perhaps somebody was very adamant I see this vision. For what reason, I haven't got a clue, other than that they may have needed my hand. And hence, I cannot take the credit. If I have learned anything, it is that I'm no more than a drop of maple syrup in this country, and in this world. Tiny, slow, everchanging, and I can't help but get stuck to things; even you, though you still insist I'm sweet. In this package, I have enclosed my final twelve poems; one for each clock hour. Do what you please with them, but if you sell any to the newspaper do not credit me. Not solely, because though I played the scribe, I am no author. It's a collection about all the good and bad bugs the rain brings out, written by my hand in accordance with the Actress, the Horse, the Castle, the Waitress, and others I met along the way. If I'm lucky, I'll see them again soon -- and maybe you, too. Your devoted sister, Rossy Lost ~~~ Last-Minute Warning! Could irk astraphobes.

Light read

Quick little poem; possibility that it will be added on to.

Step into a world where silence speaks and rebellion whispers. Dazzle's poetry dives deep into the soul-exploring identity, longing, and the quiet ache of not quite fitting in. Each piece is a mirror and a map, reflecting raw emotion while guiding readers through the shadows of self-discovery. With haunting imagery and lyrical precision, this collection is for anyone who's ever felt too much, too little, or somewhere in between. ✨ Read if you crave poetry that lingers long after the last line.