Melancholy cerita

[SEQUEL] Chandralekha Singh - A girl whose life was never the same once she fell in love. It gave her so much happiness which she slaughtered with her own hands. She believes she is never to be forgiven, neither by her family and nor by the man she loved the most, her husband. Vikram Pratap Singh - His only sin..that he fell in love. Irreversibly and irrevocably. Before he could seep into depression, he gets the companionship of someone. But can that someone ever replace the only name that his heart calls? Everyone makes mistakes. But is every mistake justifiable? ------------------------------------------------------- "After all this time? Even after all this distance?" "Especially because of the distance." He took a pause. Coming closer, he whispered out. "Because if the distance didn't exist, there would be no reason to get close to you." I took a large intake of air and there came the moment where I realized that no matter how many years came in between, even if we changed lives, even if we lost our memories, Vikram was my destiny. And I would always come back to him. ------------------------------------------------------- 𝑶𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓... -𝑽𝒊𝒌𝒓𝒂𝒎 𝑷𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒑 𝑺𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒉🥀

MELANCHOLY | MAY GARNER | AVAILABLE ON AMAZON!    This melancholy drips from my fingertips so slowly you begin to forget I ever existed. All of me - the parts of flesh you never quite learned to love slips quietly down the drain. I am waiting for the day your fingers unscrew the pipes, dig through the mess, scrape your heart against rust, just to find me again, so we can do it all over. Here, in these pages, I find myself. In ink pressed against my flesh, I whisper the sadness, the heartache, the decay meant for all the unspoken.    A Poetry Collection by May Garner. Original poems regarding real life experiences. Cover created on Canva. 2026. Melancholy copyright © May Garner. 2026. All Rights Reserved.

This poetry book, Echoes Beneath the Moonlight, is a collection of deeply emotional reflections that travel through love, heartbreak, loneliness, devotion, and silent resilience. Beneath the soft glow of moonlit nights and within dimly lit rooms of memory, these poems explore the fragile state of the human soul - wounded yet hopeful, broken yet still capable of loving. Through recurring symbols of the moon, shattered hearts, silent rivers, freezing seas, and trembling breaths, the book captures the ache of longing, the fear of losing someone, and the quiet strength found in enduring pain. Each piece feels like a confession whispered into the night - sometimes romantic, sometimes philosophical, sometimes standing at the edge of mortality - but always sincere. Echoes Beneath the Moonlight is not just a poetry collection; it is the voice of a soul navigating darkness while still searching for light.

"Soul that has been the home of a god, Veins that have given fuel to such a fire, Marrows that have gloriously burned: They will leave their body, but not their care; They will be ash, but they will have feeling; Dust they will be, but dust in love." - Francisco de Quevedo Eternal Trace of Ashes is a collection of poetic memories gathered over the years. It speaks of past lovers and the lingering echoes of other souls. Let them drift through your mind.

မိဘမဲ့ဂေဟာမှာငယ်စဥ်ကတည်းက အတူတူကြီးပြင်းလာတဲ့ကောင်လေး၂ယောက် တစ်နေ့မှာတော့ တစ်ယောက်နဲတစ်ယောက် ဝေးသွားကြတဲ့အခါမှာ...??

The Rose and the Lantern is a quiet gathering of moments - memory, doubt, childhood, love, and the soft ache of longing. Rooted in Lancashire's fields and shadowed rooms, these poems hold both the thorn and the light - the beauty of what was, and the lantern we carry forward.

A collection of whimsical melancholic poetry, written with love 💌

Hi, I'm Nyx. If you're looking for something gloomy, melancholic, dark, sadness then this is your cue. This is my first ever series...a collection of gloomy poems I write, feel free to check out. Thank you once again and Stay hydrated :)

This is my first collection of poems, just a small journey through laugher, tears, and vanishing figures. The pages hold scenes of connection and then - disappearance. I hope you will be left with something more than just a poem that you have read and then forgotten in a matter of seconds. I hope you will be left with something out of reach, like a ghost in a summer rain. Thank you and enjoy.

Bottle Full Of Words is a collection of heartfelt verses, echoing the complexities and beauty of life, in all its fragility and strength. Poetry unveils the depths of human nature, love, loss, hope, and challenges. These poems explore universal themes to impact readers to reflect on their own stories.

Just a bunch of fictional diary entries I came up with because i was bored lol ! Very Victorian-style prose and vocabulary A/N: This piece is stylistically inspired by older literary English rather than written as a strict historical or linguistic recreation of any one period. It's a creative exercise focused on voice and mood, not accuracy. Cover: Pinterest

Random/disordered pieces. Generally written in a state of dreary haze of sorts. More lucid than brain fog yet with the oppression of hallucination. A wakeful dream; The sense of it, at the very moment it's written been clear, slips away when revisited later. It's rather useless by then. Passion never lasts. And I'm stuck romanticizing the ephemeral. <> Finding human writing/art/media apart from ai will become as pedantic as abstaining for organic produce from the conventional in a market. It all feeds the same anyhow: SFX Props? VFX CGI? GenAI? At some point, barely anyone would bother differentiating. The consequences overall lies in rumor and superstition with a scientific flavor. Getting ahead of the curb by acting on suggestions/hypotheses as mandates; could such gamble be afforded over and over? Doesn't gambling lead to a net loss on average? By the end of it, organic's the minority, as against automation, so will be humanity. Writing on itself as a form of sincere expression, like this, is a type of clownery. A doomed hobby, mutually outmoded as reading. Doomscrolling would've been a better use of time on my end. "Fast fashion" form of writing has always been the point for the mainstream. Writing's streamlined for a long while now. LLM-AI is that final step to maximize the output. Really, is it bad? Its a self-sufficient haven: Why complain over getting more of what one wants, like the want of reading? Quality in art is in the mercy of subjectivity. Not good enough? Want improvement?: Improvement is the expertise of ai. It's only natural. What can be done? I don't know: spiting against a tsunami will not prevent it from coming and washing everything away that's good. And sometimes it takes even the bad amongst the wreck. I'm here; Luddite. Inept. I can only wait to be swept away or drown by it. Whichever comes first. "Sent from my IPhone"🙏🌽⚽️ Cover: Self-Edited(Muhammad Siyah Qalam miniatures)

"Thoughts that bloom..." is a collection of lines that grew too sharp and too quiet to be able to live between the pages of my poetry book. These aren't gentle and pretty words- they're the dark thoughts that rings inside our mind, haunting us. They echo in the dark corners. they are questions that never found answers, a truth that shouldn't stay buried. These are the thoughts that blooms even in the dark. So let me be the voice for the words you're too afraid or tired to say. Until you find your own, A heart that knows 🌙

He was adored for his beauty and feared for his cruelty. Then he was cursed. Exiled to the bell tower of Saint-Sulpice, Édouard Valmont becomes a monster in the eyes of the city. Merely an unseen voice behind the ringing bells. But when a traveling performer named Lysander discovers the man beneath the deformity, something begins to awaken inside Édouard: a longing he has never known. Yet the cathedral hides more than stone and prayer. And when a powerful church official's obsession turns into a threat, Édouard must confront the darkest truth of all: redemption may require a price he cannot pay. A gothic tragedy of love, vanity, and the unbearable weight of becoming worthy.

a collection of poems. disclaimer: I do not own the cover art.

"POETRY MADE OF PORCELAIN"

Compilation on what I think and feel that I can't say. ~English is not my first language~

"You came back at the perfect time but do I miss you?"

Somewhere between midnight confessions and morning coffee, I turned my almosts and goodbyes into poetry. If you love stories that ache and glow at the same time, you'll feel at home here. I'll be waiting in the words.

A collection of thoughts, whispers, and moments caught in words. These poems are my heart, pain, and despair spilt on pages. In this, you'll find pieces of me, perhaps no one else has. I hope you never feel this way, and I certainly hope you don't relate. 🥀