Vivid Memories_
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- Parts 6
Ongoing9m
Last published Sun, Apr 19, 2026
As I heard the whistle of the wind
and the song of the wave
as I listened to the tree burst into life
the morning took over the night
the moon gave in,
as the sun rose to its power
As I was called back
as I stumbled on my way
I made a place in my mind,
for vivid memories......
A collection of poems and stories by Cheshta Kaushal
A KIND REQUEST TO ALL
PLEASE REFRAIN FROM USING MY POEMS AS YOUR WORKS, COPYRIGHT IS A CRIME
All Rights Reserved
#19
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Made of Light
**Alone and hopeless... Is that everything there is to me? Do I not deserve the prospect of a change? A change for good.** Those were thoughts that went through my mind when he crushed my body with unnatural strength against the tree. I felt the taste of blood on my tongue. My surroundings started to get blurry. My head was throbbing. I began to feel drowsy. But there was one thought that gave me conscious, spinning through my head like a tedious fly keeping me from rest. **I deserve a change.**Complete
The Days With No Sun
Sometimes we fear truth over reality. But things get dark and heavy and we play the blame game. We end up hurting others or ourselves even. We don't think before we act or we don't say before we do. This is the evolution of my madness. A cluster of rants and thoughts and poems for you guys. Everything is written how I wanted it to be rants will be long with few pauses and there will be mistakes I might have skipped over. Aha. Poems at the beginning from when I was 15 years old to now when Im 18. Truly a visual of my writing evolution. Edited by @ChemicalStarling who writes a lot but never posts! Read on, loves. I'll see you on the other side...Complete
The Alpha's Daughter
I have revamped the story please let me know how you like it I was sitting alone in the park, looking out over the frozen lake, watching the sun set. When I heard something behind me, *Snap* that made me jump, (it was hard not to). As the crackling sounds of leaves, and twigs under a heavy foot, it was larger than myself but also never said I was very big.Complete
The Arctic Beauty
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The Heiress and The Alpha
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Save Me
I was drowning. I knew that. I also knew that the hands around my throat, pushing me deeper into the river water was the cause. What I didn't know was who was drowning me and why. It hurt thinking. It hurt to do anything right now. But I still screamed under the cold water and pushed the hands away as hard as I could. It didn't have much effect. I fought and fought, but I was getting weaker, and colder. The pain was overbearing. I couldn't breathe. It was the worst pain imaginable; and as the hands that were around my neck were forcibly ripped off by some unknown force, I slipped deeper into the depths of the river. My hair was straight above me along with my arms. My eyes were open and the water burned. A darkness started to pull me under, taking the pain away. I felt a small pressure around my waist, before the darkness completely consumed me. The last thing I remember is thinking, save me.Complete
Dysphoria
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RIVULETS OF THOUGHTS - Cascading emotions
I am a Poet, surfing the rainbows... Squandering the few surviving winks in my dreamy eyes. I, a well accompanied loner, saunter amidst the fireflies. Like a wandering dream, my restless mind meanders, "Will the same butterflies return to the flower?" It wonders. I am the thief who thieved the fire, to set the ideas ablaze, I stole the rains too, I had to flood the despondent deserts. But Metaphors I'd just borrow, they would never be mine. Metaphors can't be tamed, they belong to poetry, not poets. I roam unescorted and unaccompanied. I'm just exploring. Whilst, really there is nothing to find. "Sshh!" There is everything to find... Yet I roam... As a Poet. I roam. The wilderness, of the mind, the canyons of consciousness. -Harish Vaid harishvaid1986@gmail.com A collection of Poems, of the unusual sort. Read along for poems ranging from Love to Life, General to Abstract, Random to Insane. Intended to be an ongoing series. "Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen." -Leonardo Da Vinci Love all... Love you all. "Amor Vincent Omnia"Complete
I woke to my limbs sore and my head hurting. I didn't open my eyes but chose to feel around me instead. I could feel leaves and grass underneath me along with the wind sliding along my skin. I could hear bugs and animals around me, along with the trees swaying. I could smell the fresh air around me. Then i opened my eyes to see the moon above my head through the trees. It shined so bright, and it made its own light in the sky.
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