@BrokenWriter01
Hi there! I'd really appreciate if you could check out my poem collection book if you are interested in poetry.
Thankyou and sorry for bothering you. ❤
https://www.wattpad.com/story/376576993?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=TheTaintedSoul_
All that was left ahead of me,
Was called life,
And all that I had left behind,
Was sadly me..
So I walked on,
Alone and lost,
Searching for a new beginning,
Hoping to find a new me...
In this journey of hopelessness,
Will you come with me?
In this trip to the dawn of discoveries,
Will you lend me a hand?
I closed my eyes,
And reached out to her,
She did nothing but same as me...
Only if the mirror could be a window to my mind,
just like it had become the clear water to my body...
:))
ps- writing after a long time, idk if it makes any sense. hope so didnt bother anyone. But whoever read this, hope u r doing fine and having a great day ❤️
a token of kindness [ 18th july 2023 ]
insecure poems, confident aches; inspired decades yet everyday a death. stretching silences, concrete words; homes that melt and walls that echo. floating feet, rotten flowers; waves that pause in an ocean that seamlessly flows.
fluttering thoughts, fiddling feelings; coloured mouths and disappearing promises. hibernating lights and travelling darknesses; lingering lilacs and luminescent shadows.
minds of pearls, mouths of venom; do not lose by playing to their strengths. corridors of history, weaponsied love; transient nor malleable. fragile loneliness, screaming insecurities; not every sunset has to be colourful.
sun of rain, thunders of frustration; mornings like amnesia, cloudless burdens. midday pride, repentance heavy; grief stricken victories, blackbird joys. mansions of footsteps, tears of dreams; we are all graves carrying the dying spark of life in us.
#adropofhumanity
a small token of kindness [ 10th july 2023 ]
mountains and decorators, exhaustion and evil eye; surviving bones and careless finds. funeral floods and tumbling sorrows; forests and bridges of laughters and morals. feelings migrated, clouds and dresses; that which rains does not always bring about harvest.
clocks of manners, a road of residences; hearts like maples marked along fences. pictures of politeness, smiles like wounds; world a death of another, burial grounds like jasmine blooms.
mornings of questions, blurred evening attempts; youth of trial and error, life a honeycomb aged. dreams of wounds, dreams like a father's disappointment; storms like swaying birth, storms sometimes like corpses of discipline.
disassociated honour, ribbed filters; what binds is not glue, rather, mutual respect. eastern wind and crepuscular billows; howling books and silent words. the majesticness of months yet the solemnity of years; to the hearts that wriggle with pain, silence is delicate, thin ice-like elegance.
#adropofhumanity
Thank you for the follow!!!
Heyaa wssup
Dropping some love
˚∧＿∧ + —̳͟͞͞♡
( •‿• )つ —̳͟͞͞ ♡ —̳͟͞͞♡ +
(つ < —̳͟͞͞♡
｜ _つ + —̳͟͞͞♡ —̳͟͞͞♡ ˚
`し´
Have a great day!!
a small token of kindness [ 20th february 2023 ]
blistering hope and disrupted forces, stomach of dirt and howling cresses; scraping blossoms and sunken springs. hollowed harvests, assaulted reaps; jeopardised desires and slivering skies.
mismatched woods and stolen petals; metaphorical gentleness and articulated coherence. dripping hearts, compendium ashes; ornate gale, weathered pages.
vintage eyes and handwritten libraries, fictional moon and escaped fantasies. inspiring nostalgia, doubtful guqin; poisonous inquiry, burial of heaven. vulnerability guarded, vindictive portraits; a monster of human needs, a devil of emotions.
brush-wood sprains and sinister autumns; stubborn walls and bittersweet burns. fluid memories, flamed nerves; familiar souvenirs, a winter fued. a sadness of sharpness, bitter home in throat; caress the storms just as sadness has caressed tired norms.
#adropofhumanity
“The emotion of love is not self-sustaining; it endures only when lovers love many things together, and not merely each other.”
– Walter Lippman (Happy Valentine's Day!)
I often sit under the bright sun and dream,
Dream of a parallel universe,
Which has just you and me,
And only space between us,
Where we are never holding hands,
Never colliding into each other,
Or falling into the other's embrace,
Still in love,
A love not defined by closeness,
Not defined by the strings attached,
Or by means of feelings of touch,
But felt freely from afar,
A distance that could not be measured,
An emotion that doesn't bind but gives us air to breathe...
But then my mind brings me back to reality,
A world where we both exist,
Where we also belong to the mere human race,
Which believes love to be a flower that is plucked for it's beauty,
Or the butterfly which is caught by it's wings,
Or the heart that is caged within the eyes of other,
Or the bridges built between two souls that's bound to be burnt,
But not by the moon which we can together embrace from far while walking down two separate paths,
Or by the way there's nothing that combines us within a bond, but rather let's us traverse in the abode of the boundless paradise within and around us,
Or by the eternity which lies between us,
Yet is overpowered by this feeling,
This pure feeling called love...
P.s : when you feel like writing a piece, after a long time and what comes out is the collection of fragments of my not-so-writer mind..