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Maria Apr 21
She’s standing, pressed against the cold wall,
Trampled.
She’d be crying now, but there’re no tears.
They’re lost.
There are so many people around, but not a soul,
Just robots.
She awaits no gifts from fate,
She’s like a ghost.
She accepted her script a long time ago.
She’s playing.
She’d like to try a different life, but
She can’t.
It’ll be like before, she will be back.
She’s still feeling.
She will just live and she will await,
Sentenced in full, not half.
Thank you very much for reading! 💖
Timmy Shanti Apr 20
Quante pagine sono scritte dell’amore
I fiumi di inchiostro che scorrono nelle nostre vene
Quante canzoni cantate
Mozzafiato, commoventi, strazianti
Quante lacrime pianto
(Meglio le lacrime piante che le lacrime nascoste e trattenute)
Quanto tempo perso
Quanti sensi trovati
Quante guerre combattute

E non si ferma mai
Non si prende pausa
Non si fa niente
Non si fa

Eppure siamo noi, le pagine
Su cui la vita scrive la sua storia
Lettera per lettera
Parola per parola
Frase per frase

Domande, risposte, ricerche
Doglianze, sospiri, gioie e dolori

Non si sa dove porterà il cammino
O quante pagine sono rimaste nei nostri romanzi

Ma tuttavia si tira via

Cercando, sognando, aspirando

Siamo noi, le pagine scritte dell’amore
20.04.2025
till the ****** of love
she sang

till the drapes
in tatters, wail
they shiver
threads,
to ribbons
as tears
frail in spring breeze
stiff
bony breath of winter
chills the soul
readies me for the wound

she could dance
belly and all
entrance my naked heart, my dizzy doldrums
how all I'd wanted
was her
in the midst
of my forest

mistake my love
for the stars
she did
for the myriad
she tossed her well
into my coin
and I drank her in
leagues deep
with one penny
for her mind
read her life
saw her perfection stem
in my interest
coffers full
no rust, pon my copper touch,
dividends of time, we had
and yet
by the hour, struck every eve,
the penny wast all I had
for, spat back, my penny went

a man can love a woman
but should his penny be worth her life
her love, her heavens, her crown,
men,
with wallets heavy as banks
will buy her drunk
ego, pride, unmerciful
to the brim
with lust
save one's penny, she'd be rich

though poor all her days, without you...
Who knew soul mates could be so cruel... and uninterested in love.
Immortality Apr 18
And she fell,
into ice-cold water.
Her legs kicked,
gasping for air
that once suffocated her.

She didn't scream,
reached her hand out,
not for light, but to bid goodbye.

She looked around,
to realize the dark
she had walked into.

Fate laughed,
as she closed her eyes.
Oh, what an irony,
she couldn't swim.
what an irony!
Erenn Apr 13
We met in coincidences—
Once in angst staring at the moon
Twice in silence glaring at the sun
Thrice under colored skies pretending not to watch.

Each time,
the universe held its breath.
Each time,
we let go too soon.

There were years between our names.
Other hands. Other homes.
Hearts that tried to forget
what never really left.

But I’ve learned—
what isn’t meant for you
will fight to leave.
And what is
will find its way back,
no map,
no warning,
just a pull.

So even if we part again,
even if time forgets our faces—
I’ll know:

'You are the return.
You are the thing that stays.
'
Indefinitely


Erennwrites
Mirdex221 Apr 10
Growing old never seemed so bad.  
Sure, I pretend to moan and dread,  
My knee buckles and my back knots.  
Yet it’s another year of being alive.  

Growing old is a privilege,  
As another year around the sun  
Marks another year of growth.  
What else are we here for?  

Growing old is a privilege,  
Growing old together is a luxury.  

Growing old never seemed so bad.  
Yet I mourn the years we’ve lost to fate.  
Like a new book too precious to read—  
Too scared to see how many chapters are left.  

But books are never judged by their length,  
It’s by the way they change you.  
The way they mark themselves into you,  
Like wrinkles on skin.  

So worry not, take your time with fate.  
I’ll pull up a chair, a good book and coffee.  
And when you arrive, I’ll have a library—  
Of stories to share, wishing you had been there.
I'm turning 30 next year! Im a sappy hopeless romantic but I never really care about turning 30. i think aging is great, and that I believe it's possible to age gracefully. I'm just sad, im aging gracefully alone :(
Sarayu Apr 7
Who am I?

Am I Radha who lived in every corner of your mind,yet was never written in your fate?

Am I Rukmini bound to you by dharma and destiny,yet forever wondering if your heart truly called out my name?

Am I Sati who burned in silence,leaving in the middle of our journey,because the world failed to see what we shared?

Am I Seetha tested by time,separated by fate,yet tied to you in an unspoken promise?

Am I Shakuntala forgotten in your memory, yet carrying the seed of our love in silence?

Am I Damyanti who chose love over kingdom,when the world saw only a queen lost?

Am I Sathyabhama whom you won like a prize, a gift of pride?

Am I Lakshmi always seen at your feet?

But now, after walking through the fire of my own questions,after analysing every role the world gave me I know who I truly am.

I am Radha,who let go, not out of weakness,but out of love strong enough to set you free.

I am Rukmini,who can fight with the world even with my own blood to stand beside you when no one else will.

I am Parvathi,reborn in different forms,
yet always drawn to you by the same soul thread.

I am Seetha,who may wander forests and endure storms,but my heart never forgets the rhythm of yours.

I am Shakuntala,who waited with dignity,
Knowing love never begs, only believes.

I am Damyanti,who walked through ruin and shadow,to reach the one my soul chose.

I am Sathyabhama, who killed my son to protect you.

I am Lakshmi,rhythm of your breath,the calm in your chaos.

I am the one
Filled with love,
Enriched with dharma,
Groomed with peace.
Maria Apr 4
There was a time when I didn't know you.
It seems absurd to me now, really.
When I didn't smell your almond hair at dawn,
When I didn't look into your chocolate eyes nearly.

There was a time when I lived without you.
When I tore myself to pieces with no mean.
When I was alone at all and didn't imagined
That you're my fate, my part. You're foreseen.

I tried to cheat my fate more than once,
I teased her much. I was rude to her very.
And she saved me tenderly every time.
She awaited the while I was stubborned daringly.

There was a time when I didn't know you.
Maybe it was in my past life.
And now you're here, you're nearby.
And all my past disappeared without any strife.
Perhaps it's a little indelicate, but I want to talk about my love a lot...
Thank you for your attention! 💖
Asuka Apr 4
Our destinies entwine like the Vallisneria bloom,
Its longing stem rising through waters of hope.
Fate’s quiet currents bear the wandering spores,
Bringing them home to a love foretold.
"Currents of Fate" captures the delicate dance of destiny, much like the Vallisneria flower, whose bloom reaches the water’s surface with unwavering hope. Just as the male spores drift upon gentle currents, drawn inevitably toward their destined union, so too are souls carried by fate’s unseen hands, converging at the moment meant for them. It is a quiet, inevitable pull—one that transcends effort, guided only by the silent flow of destiny.
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