Narrativepoetry Stories

A collection of poems telling a story, starting from sunrise to sunset. Inspired by Vanessa Carlton's Be Not Nobody.

short narrative poetry of a girl swept away to an unknown land knowing it's the end of her story.

A poetic retelling of the Ramayana, told through love, sacrifice, devotion, and duty. From Rama's miraculous birth in Ayodhya to his deep bond with his brothers, from Sita's emergence from the sacred earth to their fateful exile, this story follows the timeless journey of two souls whose names have echoed through the ages. Witness Bharata's unmatched devotion, Lakshmana's unwavering loyalty, Hanuman's boundless faith, and Sita's unbreakable strength. Follow the path through forests, across oceans, into battlefields, and beyond triumph itself, where the greatest tests of the heart still await. Inspired by the ancient epic and its enduring traditions, this narrative poem seeks to bring the Ramayana to life through verse while exploring the love, courage, grief, and dharma that made its characters immortal. For this is not merely the story of Rama. It is also the great story of Sita. सीतायाः चरितं महत्

Two poems. One confession. A journey through the words, emotions, and truths that remained locked away for far too long.

[ɴᴀʀʀᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴏᴇᴛʀʏ - ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ] 𝑨 𝑽𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏. 𝑨 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒐. 𝑨 𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍. Sometimes good and evil aren't as black and white as they seem. 3-part narrative poetry experiment for 3rd Memory on FictionPress. (Wattpad version differs slightly to FP version.) --------------------------- All content © 2017 Jax L. P. (@JaxCreation) on WattPad. Please do not reproduce or distribute without permission. Cover designed by @itsanourthing. Featured on @Paranormal's 'Haunted Verses' reading list - 20 Oct, 2021

A long reflective prose interspersed with visceral yet clean imagery, hand-written before typed. A love poem for death; to, death. To follow Our Ruby Obsession

Every day, the same chair. The same view. But behind the glass, a quiet existence unfolds - one of waiting, wondering, creating, and hoping to be seen. This isn't a story of escape. It's a story of presence. One pane at a time. It also reflects life with disability - quietly seen, often misunderstood, but deeply felt.

A jewel is attractive something to be possessed but if it gets scratched, or becomes rusty... It is dirt -something to be disposed of and that is who she is. ~ She Water gushing into my lungs while my head is forced beneath rising tides... Choking... Drowning... How it feels to be with Mr Chancellor ~ Mr Chancellor Three different people with different contradicting characters one cute submissive and happy, the other bold, dark, ruthless, belittling and angry, the last free, independent, in love and kind to all but what if they were all the same person? Mr Triangle with all three sides on display. ~ Mr Triangle. Poems SHE MR CHANCELLOR MR TRIANGLE

No story lives until someone wants to listen Thy poem was created to be sung by thy brethren For unsung poetries was there and was risen -Clarence Gono

What if the fall was never a failure-but the first breath of freedom? This is a story imagined from sacred echoes-a poetic and philosophical retelling of creation, choice, sorrow, and divine tension. Through dialogues between God and Lucifer, Adam and Eve, and two modern voices wrestling with belief, this work explores the paradox at the heart of existence: Why must we suffer to grow? Why create something that might walk away? The Roads That Were Built is not here to answer. It is here to walk with you beside the questions you've never dared to silence. Myth. Theology. Poetry. Longing. You are invited to feel-and to remember- that you, too, are made of breath and clay.

I often forget to write to you Just to clarify what was really true. Though I struggle to find the words that could paint this sad view. Sometimes I reside at the dock looking to cast the line, searching for things to pluck That would remind you of that same awe That was our passion in the play we sought. At the Dock, I can only hope to wait For that same presence to lift up the weight Of our wordless farewell slate. I pray you find these letters by the Dock In hopes that you would come, without a thought, To the realization of what those words were, lost in Dark's muck....

A few of my poems and short stories, of many different kinds. Some are in meter, some free verse, some rhyme, some do not. I find words to be magical things. They bring us places that we cannot go, and allow us to experience more in an hour than we could in a lifetime. This is only my humble attempt at creating a new rent in reality; step through and join me among the letters.

This is a collection of poems based on my nightly dreams. It is full of amazing, inspiring, and fantastical experiences.

A retelling of the famed Greek story of Narcissus and Echo, the tragic love tale filled with grief, heartbreak, and the origin of the term narcissist

I can listen to her music. I can read his poetry. I can play her cello. I can compose his poetry. He became my music. She became his music. He became my poetry. She became his poetry. He became my theology. She became his religion. I want to ruin her cello. He's wrecking my piano. I still love him but he worships her. I'm longing to be a pianist but he yearns for me to be a cellist.

annyeong~ these are my works (stories, poem, one shots etc.) since i can't focus to write a book 'cause my mind can't do my imaginations:<< next time na book! aja!

Some stories don't ask to be written. They bleed their way out. This is the unraveling of a soul-part dream, part wound, part silence. Love that felt like war. Duty that broke something sacred. And a mind, once calm like the sea, now swallowed by storms. This is Drift-a journey through the beautiful and brutal wreckage of becoming.

Most of these are poems that are in the perspective of any character in my future story, Black Sun Tale. However, the information on that book isn't needed to read these, so I would just say to enjoy

A story told from the perspectives of a girl named Ava and a boy named Luke. Ava is jaded to the world and hides herself in a labyrinth of walls and failed coping strategies. Luke is quiet and artistic and more observant than Ava was counting on.