Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Zack Ripley Apr 2021
A day of fun and sun
In a world of doom and gloom
Is a nice change of pace.
Happy Easter 2021 everyone!
My rail tracks seem to have disappeared
Only the red autumn leaves seem to have covered
A cold melancholy in the air hovers
As I look beyond to see what uncovers

But the truth is that it is an endless journey
There’s no special place ahead, no sanctuary
Just the train, and the passing estuary
The destination seems lost, as I realise it was only imaginary.

Now I yearn for meaning.

What is this train journey,
Where is it leading?
Maybe it’s better to just hop off
And enjoy it from the beginning.
Enjoy the journey because there's no destination.
JKirin Feb 2021
One must know drizzles and days of gloom
to see the beauty—a rose in bloom.
Ylzm Jan 2021
a soothing constant rush
of rain falling undiminished
without break from before
the new year dawned

comforting yet unease lurks
uncommon for years and then
unexpectedly markedly today
thoughts compelled to wonder

you cannot learn from history
habits persist even in futility
mindless virus greater than
resolutions and national budgets

man plan and vow to change
enslaved to happiness and fear
his hope in his little money
adorned in cheap empty wishes

I shall be still and imbibe the peace
cloaked in the gloom's cool assurance
all the world may flood or be scorched
I'm unmoved for my flight constant
kay Dec 2020
though our wind no longer swayed in the same direction
though our sun doesn't rise at the same time
and though our ocean doesn't bear the same wave
my dear,
I've always prayed
from the inmost part of my soul
that your path will always be filled with joy and happiness
and that everything around you
will also radiate warmth
so that the dark lacuna and the brisk part of this world
won't make you feel left alone

so that neither solitude
nor my absenteeism
will cast you away to the brink of inconsistency
and self-loathing

until then . . .
Devin Ortiz Nov 2020
The white banks have risen high.
The smoky powder fills the sky.

Blooms of consciousness are frozen still.
Consequences of dying on that hill.

Time slips, blurs, no longer stirs.
As thoughts dim, and pain confers.

Darkness consumes the glistening tomb.
Life gives in to the doom and gloom.
Isabella Oct 2020
I sing to the shadows in my room
And play the piano to comfort my gloom
I hum in the hope that something will bloom
And write as I await my own doom
Dee Oct 2020
❝ a man curses his self-created hell;
   a trap he weaved for himself
   that later on evolved
   into a labyrinth of intricate design

   his choices,
   the basis of his sorrow
   a product of ignorance
   that drowns him
   in the ocean of confusion

   he becomes lost
   in the prison of darkness
   floating in the sea
   of perpetual gloom

   searching for the light
   with eyes open
   but senses shut
   stumbling about for eons
   and eons

   blaming fate,
   God,
   circumstances,
   but never himself ❞
Next page