Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Life is a wonder —no wonder I still wonder
how I made it to today. Life is what you make of it —
not like a butler who serves, but a self-made shape
you forge from struggle and grace.

We judge with our eyes, but on Judgment Day,
it won’t be our eyes that matter. And when that day
arrives —whether we walk or run to heaven’s gate —
know that love won't wear the form you tried to fit
into every heart.

To love in part means sometimes we must depart —
leave behind space wide enough for stars to breathe.
The emptiness you find may feel vague, but it’s where
meaning stirs quietly, and the hopes you laid on a lover
might be the very hope that led you astray.

We leave this place as ashes — but never to rest
in an ashtray. Because even dust has destiny,
and fire never forgets what it once warmed.
Life is a wonder — in both a good and bad way.
And maybe that’s enough.
Tragedy never seems to run out;
a cat runs through traffic —
and unfortunately,
    it finally
        ran out of lives.
Adnan Hasan May 22
"O, you who march toward hell, embrace death—it is your only chance to escape alive.
Oh, you are oblivious to hope, beware—you stand on the brink of losing it forever.
Oh, you lingering at the edges of oblivion, existence is no game of hide-and-seek—find yourselves before you vanish.
You who arrive here know you are already among the departed. Calm your fears, for the worst has yet to come.
O, you who weep for the past, dry your tears. The past was once the present, but the future… the future will never be."
Orjeta May 19
“At the end of life, when the final breath escapes, everything we chased loses meaning.

A single breath takes a lifetime to release—yet still, I wonder:

how many breaths must be drawn and lost before we truly grasp the values that matter in this world?”
Inspired by the quiet truth that visits us when it’s almost too late.
Do you not think about it the thing we fear the most
Same way we will all end and have a string around our toe
Or is it just me wondering about something I really can not help
Something so honest but so hurtful to accept
Did it ever cross your mind
How soothing religion is to believe
Yet everyone still has that fear at the end,
because life isn't at all what it seems
You can only speak now
What you feel and what you know
But how certain are you of the place you end up when it's really time to go
They say give it to God and I did
And he gave the thoughts back
If hell wasn't such the curse
Would our good deeds still be an act
If you knew there was nothing at the end
Would you share that and instill fear
Or would you put your loved one's heart and mind at peace,
if you told them what they wanted to hear
In no way am I saying there is no super being
There's a whole wide world
So, God isn't what I'm questioning
What if we're supposed to just feel the right now
And feel all the moments
Just to say it has happened
Is that what the Lord only wanted
Life is a celebration
The poor suffer through, and the rich take a toast
But how can you be obsessed with something you fear the most?
Zywa Mar 28
Death is put away,

or it is lost, forgotten --


again and again.
Poem "Dis wat die dood doen" ("That's what death does", 2016, Ronelda Kamfer)

Collection "Here &Now&"
a soul Mar 8
Two souls have come together,
two magical beings.
What does the universe want,
to stir such a commotion?

Everything will be allowed,
when their time arrives.

Perhaps they are not the only ones
protecting themselves.

Perhaps beings from beyond
are shielding them too.

For they share the same fears,
and all will unfold in the earthly realm,
when they choose.

They were everything,
they were nothing.

Everything was mystical,
fire,
and air.

They moved from the battle of life
to the refuge of disaster.

Only souls,
finally found.

They were the dream
they never dreamed,
but that the universe
had already decreed.
dead poet Jan 13
death is humble;
death does not discriminate;
death is everything,
but life.
David P Carroll Oct 2024
In the graveyard
silence reigns
Darkness all around
And loved ones
Memories linger never gone
And your all in our hearts
All day long

And the grass grows wild
Between the graves sadness
In my eyes as the
Names etched in stone faded with age
A reminder of life's final stage
And the moonlight casts
A ghostly glow over the graveyard tonight
For in death there is a stark reminder
To cherish each precious moment
we are given so
God bless you all.
Graveyard 🪦🪦🪦🪦
Zywa Dec 2023
Dying means little

without fantasy, else it's --


about everything.
Novel "Voyage au bout de la nuit" ("Journey to the End of the Night", 1932, Louis-Ferdinand Céline) - "Quand on a pas d'imagination, mourir c'est peu de choses, quand on en a, mourir c'est trop."

Collection "Over"
Next page