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Shofi Ahmed Nov 2021
Awake all night
but there was
not a single word
on either side.
Between me
and the spectators
a sky of stars!

Well what to say
is me fell for the Moon
being a dwarf.

If love is blind
then how
the fault is mine?

Don't know who can tell
why the Moon
won't touch the sea?
This bit I can tell
'To quell a burning
loving heart
a sea is not enough'!
John McCafferty Sep 2021
It feels like our sun has split, temp is turning route and stoney grey white light now dips sooner still.
No burning haze, nor warmth caught in open play and less so the golden rays from evening shades.

Darkened days will cling to run amongst us, when there's no fire blown above the hills. Age displayed as others ill now start to wilt, and aloft the silence drops without response.

Our sweet retreat returns from deeper dreams, before the fresh breath glimpsed in brand new air gives us this good grace of green again. The sense of death keeps seeping in resolve, for future stories to reflect as we continue to unfold.
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
Terra Levez Aug 2021
The music ends
And yet the symphony has just begun
Everyone leaves us
Some run, some fall
But we stayed
And slowed danced in this burning room
Some called this misery
We called it home
inspired from an Instagram challenge... yes i copied from another person's verse a bit.
If my father could see me now
I hope that he would be disappointed in me.
It would be easier than knowing
I can make out a man underneath the smoke,
underneath the mountain of ash left on a burning man’s face.
It would be easier to hold water in my hands than accept
that his love would burn me to ash too
i'll leave him to burn a while longer
08.10.2021
09:42pm
N Aug 2021
I wonder if he
still sees me in his dreams

Or if he is
dreaming of another

Does the heat of
August burn his skin

Like his
cold absence burns mine

Why do I still ache
for him?

Oh darling one,
I fear I may have been
but a passing dream to
you
I miss him.
dorian green Jul 2021
full moon, nervous edge, sweat beads,
my lungs are bruised and beaten,
and my heart is made of bone.
why, pomegranates bleed,
sigh and remain uneaten,
calcify or rot alone.

i saw persephone cry
and all the angels alight,
stark and sad in burning flame.
a soft weeping right nearby,
holy fires of the night,
and i swear i heard my name.

possession requires a host,
but i couldn't catch my breath
stumbling through the graveyard.
i don't believe in ghosts,
but the awesome fear of death
caught me lonely and off guard.

i will try to describe it:
in the face of this feeling,
your guts are on the table,
your insides exposed, moonlit,
mine were cold and revealing,
dead, skeletal, and mangled.
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