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Agnes de Lods Apr 14
Loved or needed—needed or loved?
Does it still deserve to be a question?
This doubt will never be erased
from the human language.
It burns from inside
reducing plans to ash.

Do they seek to heal their broken thoughts,
or do they want to stay in hidden safety?

It’s unclear how to love all the sketches
made by routines, invisible seconds,
trivial matters
picked out from life
like slimy red, blue, and golden fish,
slipping through cold, wet fingers.

Existence as a heap of doubts
punched by blinding moments
bringing elusive clarity
that dims and flares again and again.
Needed or loved.
Loved by need,
an unbreakable union
without a sigh,
without rhythm
as a sharp dissonance.
Sanama Mar 21
A pen that’s bled a thousand lines,
yet pages crumble, left behind.
Each thought I shape, each verse I weave,
feels lost before another’s eye can truly see.

Write, they say—write and bleed,
let the ink meet every need.
But what if lines just fall apart?
What if they never reach a heart?

Doubt is heavy, it presses deep,
like restless waves of ink that never cease.
Yet still, I carve, though lost in night,
a whispered truth, a fleeting light.

And maybe no one sees or knows,
no echoes where the silence grows—
but if one soul should pause and stay,
"Then all this weight was worth the fray."
Everyone writes. Ideas that take shape, yet doubt lingers, and words crumble before they ever truly see the light.
Sanama Mar 13
I am like a falcon, caught in a troubled storm,
Wings torn by winds as cold as winter's scorn.
Surrounded by the storm’s wrath and hate,
I fly through thunder, dodging their fate.

But as I soar, something starts to ignite —
Feathers burn in silence, yet loud with might.
Free like the blazing sun I rise,
Flames roaring as my anger cries.

As the light of the sun embraces my wings,
And its heat touches deep within,
I feel like the sun itself — burning bright,
Strong and free from chains of night.

A blaze grows sharp at every turn,
Falcon’s fury begins to burn.
Though they try to chain my fire,
I rise in embers, climbing higher.

Like a phoenix, I am born again,
From ash and flame, breaking the chain.
The falcon I was becomes pure flame,
Stronger now, with no more shame.

Their hate the wind — but I’m the fire,
A stormbird born from all their ire.
No longer broken, no longer small,
I am the blaze that outshines all.
This is more like a short story that shows how troubles can make us stronger and wiser. Even when people close to us try to bring us down, we don't have to stay there. Be born again — let your wings guide you to rise above it all.
Sanama Mar 12
Doubts. Fear. A dark past.
We all have them-
but listen to me now:

We fight.
We fight our shadows,
our weakness,
our doubts-
and yet we rise our fist higher than before.

Fear is close- always near- but we move forward,
we don't let it take over us
we never let it win.

Our dark past.
Yes, they hurt.
But let them clear your path,
embrace them, hold them tight,
let them be your reminder:
You are stronger.

Grow like trees
some never watered,
yet they still rise-
breaking stone, reaching the skies.

Have the courage to rise from fear,
don't let it drown you deeper.
Stand tall.
Face your shadow- and fight.
We all have problems either is doubts, fear, or our past. We should remind to fight them and not let them drag us down the water.
Chari Feb 2
An umbilical cord
Grown from my backbone
To assure a structure, a stronghold
In humanity's songs

Holds me from eternal darkness
To halt me from expanding nothingness
Yet to sight the stars' brightness
Their uniqueness

It holds me from behind
Makes sure I don't fall in line
The darkness amongst light
The foul upon the stars

The empathy of an everlasting night
To keep me from an unimaginable fright
Away from gaze of awful heights
Never ending falls, suspensionary freights

A body full of thoughts
Hollow mind cuts out draughts
Only if time could be stopped
I'll build an horloge in my head's clock

Steer me to a fantasy
Hold me for an eternity
Back down for a better me
I try to keep my sanity

For him
Me
The better me
The almost me

That could do better than I could think
Better than I would think
That would act at the thoughts to blink
Probably I shouldn't blink

Rehearse my fidelity
Work on my infidelity
A plane to eternity
For an end to a better me

An umbilical cord
That strucks my bones
Hard as a stone
I think it's trying to make me whole

Or to erase me
To think like everything
So I could become a sibling
To this cloned society

To accept the poverty
To fall for the beverages
To hold accountable the rich and the wealthy
For all problems that comes to think

My head is its own place
Not an ordinary place
A fantasy type of heaven place
Where only I belong place

The umbilical cord can't reach
My thoughts, mind, how I think
But it reacts Every time I blink
That I may act like everyone I see
I was thinking of the world, and trends and how everyone wants to be alike and we refuse our uniqueness
Together for a year, I thought I’d make my move,
But our first fight shook the groove.
You said, "It’s fine if we don’t talk anymore,
I’m fine without you," repeating it more.

This aggression, it stings, it stays,
Are you fine—or just fading away?
Anais Vionet Aug 2024
The heavenly stars are on fire
I’m told.
You have to take some things on faith.

But where’s the smoke?
.
.
Songs for this:
Man in finance (G6 Trust Fund) by ******* a couch, Billen Ted
Bored by Laufey
Zywa Jun 2024
After the defeat,

his doubts buzz around him like --


a mosquito cloud.
Novel "Victory City" [Vijayanagar >> Bisnaga] (2023, Salman Rushdie), part 1: Birth, chapter 8

Collection "Low gear"
Jeremy Betts Apr 2024
I'll be right here
Or thereabouts
Have to fight fear
Endless bouts
Year after year
Who I am is denounced
The end is near
Shamelessly announced
The truths back there
A mute man shouts
Doesn't matter where
The blind will pounce
A future seer
Only raises doubts
The amounts one drowns in
Could be less than
A powder or liquid ounce

©2024
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