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Poetic T Apr 2014
As i swim as i,m submerged,
relaxed inthe waters that
surround me.

Not a breath needed relaxed
in the feeling that i,m safe, as
the waters are warm i hear
noises not knowing what
they are or where theycome from.

surrounded in darkness, this
homein the water this place i
call the womb.
There were people in every room
Inthe hallway
In the street
There was no where safe
No escape
No secret harbour
Nothing
Eventually he found an alleyway
Wonderfully empty
Until he noticed the human canvas
Sitting crosslegged in the corner
That's the day he painted his first masterpiece
Thats the day that he met me
betterdays Aug 2014
it's the middle of
the afternoon
on one of those warm
winter days,
that hold the promise
of summer inthe brightness
of the sun..

and we three are at the park
having swung to the sky
on the swings, gone up and slid down the slippery dip
a dozen times
and made ourselves dizzy
on the merrygoround
we now sit quietly, watching
pelicans and ducks
icecream, soft serves melt
in hands and on toungue.

when we are down here
we will go down to the jetty
and throw our bread upon
the water for ducks and pelicans to squabble over

and then home to play
in the garden....
before dinner.......
there is a simplicity
to this.....yet it deserves
to be written... for it is too beautiful an afternoon
to be forgotten
John Dec 2012
We used to like to stay up all night
Drink from sundown until it shined again
******* inthe morning dew with whiskey tainted breath
Smoking cigarettes until our lungs blackened
We all knew, in the backs of our heads
That we were having a little too much fun
Coming home drunk and stumbling up stairs
Is only satisfying until you realize that people care

We liked *****, whiskey and ***
Irish breakfasts were the only ones for us
Getting ****** up was the only constant
Going to school hungover and not caring if we bombed it
We were in for that rude awakening
We never knew how far we had to run

Those fateful, wilderness years
Very well could've been the best time of my life
Underneath the alcohol, blood and tears
You could cut the immaturity with a knife
It's really all kind of sad to think
About all the things I can't remember now
Lost in the cosmic consciousness
Innocent brain cells killed in the name of cowardice

But now I couldn't be any more thankful
Those years taught what no person could
I was only nineteen but now I know
That if I want to drink, I should double think if I should
I'm only human, despite the previous display
Of thinking foolishly or immortality
The weird thing is that I regret nothing
Everything progressed as it would, naturally
After all
Just about a time in my life (only about two years ago) when my alcohol consumption became somewhat of an issue.
.Ah! Beautiful Selene-Bathe your naked body inThe waters of the ocean,Set your long hair against The wind,So lustrous in the moonlight.Your shepherd prince Endymion,You prayed his soul to keep.A cold cave for his sanctuary,You make love in his sleep.Against the archingBlack canopy of sky,Your tears fall andWe call it rain-As your fiery chariotPrepares to touch downOn a planet so full-Of the clinically insane.The sea of Tranquility calls outyour name.
circus clown Dec 2014
i used to pace my room
in confusion of why i couldn't get over
the single month we spent together
sharing coffee, kisses, stories, bodies
i barely knew your middle name
but we talked again a few days ago
and i asked you, "do you think
if the people we are now were to
have met eachother before the
people we were then, we would've
had a chance?"

inthe moment it took
for you to reply
i finally figured it out
me and him, we are the
connection, as opposed
to the attraction i have
mistaken it for, he taught
me how to love softly, he
talks like he still knows me
and i still don't trust it but
i have never experienced
anything like this and
now i am pacing my room
again, caught on a simple
text message, sent 11:29am,
that reads "yes, i do."
betterdays Sep 2014
on the opposite side of
the world
the green budded fingernails
of the frangipani unfurl
to their lush full verdancy

all the flowers stand tall
to see the sun
and open coloured arms
for a full-scented hug

the birds are all a twitter
with nursery nests
and sqeaking chirking beaks
and in the pond small rafts of gelatinous eggs are watched over by frogs

there is that wonderful
tang of warm salt and
eucalypt wafting inthe breeze

autumn for us down
under just a pleasant
memory...
here we now look forward
to the summer sun..
love all the autumn poetry i am reading....but....
McKenna M Mar 2013
And I think that your eyes
could rival the night skies  
inthe language of
brilliance and starstruck

A small smile from you
makes the wait work the view
and I love
when it's pointed at me.

Because your brilliant shyness
at any attention
(that is well deserved)
is enough to make a poet stop writi
If I rewrote  the story and  somehow  are paths
did not cross.
In temptations fire.
We would only know the cold of others.

Freezing in the silent agony unable
to speak.
The statue remains its meaning  erased.

As into others we will seek.
The emotions we no longer share.
Alone I am now inthe isolation of many blank
stares.

The jokes are but a wall built to conceal.
All that I am.
That I could never reveal.

Use the substances  to keep you numb.
And let the voices  take you to another place.

Beyond the madness there lies
beauthy in pain.
And always truth.
Destruction breeds art.

I light up in a room of vacant stares
and empty lives.
To blind in addiction to know the other does exist.

In this den like some scene  from a ***** parlor from the west.
Ashes hit the floor  along with my pride.

This battle im losing with devilish glee.
All but nothing is left.
so in the shadows I confide.
sometimes wisdom can come from great acts of stupidty
sometimes pain brings us closer to the truth
nothing stays buried   it just lays in wait.
Mona May 2016
Am unsure about the interactions I make with people
Do they hold friendship or carry enemies ?

Am unsure about the way the wind roars
Does it carry rain or hold tsunamis
Am unsure about the changes of the colors Inthe Sky change
Do they only mean dask and dawn ?
Am unsure about  technology
Does it really benefit man or it's a complete waste?

Am unsure about the way  am trying to relay this poem on a piece of technology
Will anyone want to grab the baton ?
And if I do run will I be able to finish or just wasting my time ?
Poorly typed in/arranged letters from me to whoever
Enjoy
Megan Grace Apr 2015
i am willing to help you find all of
your pieces to buy you the tread
and  needle   you'll  need  once
you've gathered them     and i
promise   not to look or make
pained faces while you   put
yourself back together inthe
quiet of    y o u r  basement
bedroom   because i know
what  it means to feel like
you're missing a limb but
the ache is  coming from
somewhere          deeper
deeper                            ­
                           deeper
than you   ever could
have imagined your
chest could   sink it
is so scary to wake
up and not be sure
if your    lungs are
still  connected or
if you're going to
be able to get off
thecouchbecause
you've been too
sad to sleep  in
your  own bed
please    know
that i will not
forceyoutobe
h a p p y   or
give up your
past,     but i
will be here
if you decide
to do those things
I'm not scared of broken.
.Well, there's another idea that died in your mouth!Are you still waiting for eyes to see beyond the little door?What is behind it?An open shoe box full of your poetry?There's cliches clothed in their Sunday finest.Shiny shoes and a red bow-tie.To escape naked into the streets inthe middle of an uncomfortable conversation,only to find that your cigarette was lit and wasbackward in your lips.You screamed for the fire department andyour father just laughed.Just when the dust on your wine bottlewas finally at its thickest,someone entered the roomand polished it off.Pardon my smile, butyou are so funny!Did you cry asyour insect collectionwas flying away?Lace up your shoes,because I double checked your closetand there ain't no bears in there.And, yeah. I'd quit smoking if I were you..
Vladimir s Krebs Nov 2015
where do i stand
i stand my ground
i stand to speak my mind
i stand alone watching the hurt
i stand to keep the people i know and love safe
i stand when theres nothing but terror
i stand inthe deepest shadows
i stand when theres nothing even lft fighting for
i stand to lift and picking up when your not strong nought any more
i stand when your fight dsnt have a reson to keep going
i stand tobe there when the end of the world happens


your not alone
cause i have your back
im the one who will take every thing that hurts you
im the one to listen to pick you up to keep you safe

WHERE do you stand
do you stand beside me
or do you let te corrupt society rip you apart

where do i stand i stand with no regrets nor fear i stand strong for any one who need me ill take all the hurt pain weakness you cant hold


(WHERE) do you stand
i stand thick thinwhen theres not enought to hold on even when you grab the hand that has sliped
Josie Heggaton Apr 2015
When can we see the truth
Why do people lie
Say things that aren't real
Why do people cry
Hiding the things they feel
Why do people leave
Do they have something to gain
Why do people die
Leaving others in pain

Where can we see the truth
Not in the words people speak
Not in the smiles people seek
Not in the suitcases we carry
Not inthe things left behind to burry

How can we see the truth
Not by opening our ears to hear
Not by hiding all our tears
Not by running in a fight
Not by fading away with the light

Why are people so mean
Why can they not just see
Are they scared of what they do not see
Is opening their heart just to hard for them
Is their opinois that slim
The damage may already be done
The scars may be to hard to mend

How do you tell the truth from a lie
Or is the truth just one big lie
Failing topics and endless sunburst
Green stained bronze, for this ball room chatter
Dreams of you on the mezzanine
Coming down the stairs happy to see me
Yet now they have reversed. It is you
Who can not come upstairs, house of proper
My wife giving akward glances from over her shoulder ,

Old friends , and ***** dens
Memories hidden inthe dust and murk
Wallow in squalor , under the decks of a high hoisted ,
Eleven white painted canvas for a tall ship
Cutting lukewarm Mediterranean seas
Falling tropics, and sand breeze
Dry humidity, salty clothes, silence over the wind

Hailing a cab
The splashing of more important things around me, a chill ness that kisses my entire face up and down, runs her sleek January nothing through my hair.
Saving fair a block early to get a bite to eat
Fair weather traveller heading home to his hole
Digging to come out the turnstile
Old habits / catching the subway.

Merry weather fan, snacking on peanuts
Glancing out the window, over your nervousness
How high do planes fly? 35000 feet and you've never looked better, smiles shaking hands with each other.  Strangers , every time
Experiencing life in second sight.
Waking up right before the sun rises
Every **** time
Therefore, the Lord himself will give them this sign: "A ****** will conceive and give birth to a son, and she will name him Immanuel." From this calami lapse, all of Patmia was refracted in the chromatics of Emmanuel, alluding to Isaiah as an infallible God of Salvation after having sent Sennacherib's mesnadas to his turn. His ministry came to be established along with all the soldiers who did not finally confront each other, but he came to support them from the waters that came from the eastern sea. The kingdom of Judah appeared in glory and solemnity anticipating seven centuries before the Mashiach came to the world of Israel. Hezekiah appears again after seven centuries in Patmia, to decline the fraternal help of Isaías, to save the collective quasi shipwreck in the mountains that would strike the edges of Patmia later after the conclusion of the battle, Etréstles intervening from where he entered the Hydors, as the sixfold brightest star of Aquarius of the Gulf of Skalá to protect all the landowners of the Oikodeomeo, litigating the swells of the sea that should refer to the synchronous beats of the Ruach Hakodesh. Etréstles entered the pointed mansards on the tops of the allotropic waves, carrying a scarlet ribbon in his right hand and in the other with an indigo hue when he swam he did not hold back from moaning for fear that the whole island might disappear, he deprecated while He floated imploring in Hellenic all the Prosas of Rhodes, thus leaving hanging on his neck the suffering of mercy that looked at him from the expectant shore, but the scarlet ribbon cried out for the Emmanuel who would be born among the cerulean granules, concomitant with the Mashiach that clung to him on the blue ribbon when a fragmented chroma emerged from the rib that divided the seven colors into fourteen, from where he propelled Etréstles over the calvaries of the water that prevented him from seeing how undaunted Saint John was reflected with his staff. The Vernardicidal ***** harassed the ministry of Isaiah who came to save Vernarth from the Hercules vortex, where everything will guide him with the conception of Vernarthian and Saint John the Apostle, with from afar they encouraged him saying: "Epoikodomeo" with the aim of building geomorphological waters of the Dam or blood of the Mashiach, forging, increasing wisdom and security to preserve and encode them with the Talmudic essences of Spirit / Pnevma that is the essence of the Messiah to make the ephemeral phase of Jesus with the prosopon of the fit in the primordial scale of Patmos, along with all those who entrusted their ministry to him. Isaiah stated that from a Maltona the Messiah will be born soon, the same one who has accompanied Vernarth throughout this journey par excellence from Judah when he sublimated the iconography of Saint John the Apostle on his return to his inheritance, thus the requiems said that Isaiah had been sawn. by Manasseh, indicating that his prophet's remains would gather on Patmos to materially reintegrate themselves before the panorama of any, beyond the scriptures, only the Pnevma prevailing, which ingratiated itself with the apocryphal papyri. The laws of the sea opposed the arms and chinstraps that Etréstles wore in the joints of each arm, creating with them psalms that indicated the presence of the divine mother of the Mashiach, with the divine contribution that embroiled the scriptures by the Psalms of Etréstles by besieging at once on the cusps of the waves, making use of the same phalanxes and of the Apsidas Manes with watery and ****** meddling by Sennacherib's troops, who by a narrow imbalance in the authorship of the debate segment on a defense that was with the angels, who had already slipped through the opening of the dying parapsychology, to enter the purging compass of the blanket with a Venerable who would speak to them in the first person about the lashes of the breakers enclosed in the annunciation of the Emmanuel that was going to radiate with his counterpart Jesus Christ in the scarlet and indigo Hydor of the Kosmous water compendium of all Patmia. The exegetes were all in their robes on the top of the mountain, they were all and at the same time, they were not. Isaiah wanted to predispose the messianic perception to unite the generous ends of the Majestic Tikun and the Gam zu Letová, so that the scarlet tekhelet itself merges with the chinstraps in the joints and Etréstles that came from the Seventh Cemetery of Messolonghi, to present them the chants of the seventh parapsychological regression of Vernarth's wounded hands that he could barely hold, having the Pisan Verses of Ezra Pound, agglutinated with the Psalms of Etréstles saying thus:

“Humiliate your vanity, You are nothing more than a dog beaten under the hail, just a swollen magpie in the fickle sun, half black, half white, and you can't even distinguish the wing from the tail. Humble your vanity, Petty is all your hatred nourished by falsehood. Humble your vanity, eager to destroy, greedy in charity. Humiliate your vanity, I tell you, humiliate it. But having done instead of doing nothing, this is not vanity. Having decency, called for an obtuse to open, having picked up a living tradition from the air or from a magnificent old eye calls it undefeated, this is not vanity. Here the error is everything in what was not done, everything in the shyness that hesitated ...

Etréstles answers with his Psalm:

"In the main, I attend to his voice that undresses small when they fall cliffs ...when the fierce sentinel hides the Xiphos from the evil ones who shield them inthe iniquity here on Patmos of his tongue-lashing sword that spills bitter blood,that she is thrown on famous vices of Pronoia and dry crops in the storehouse ...
with dormant grasses between lashes of hunger, thirst, and angry sleep.

This is where the Mashiach sleeps and does not lavish the drowsiness of the world! that he shoots and is not afraid of spitting a splendid Hercules cloaked with fullerides of necromancy and flashes of unsustainability in the bitter Pashkien eating the sores from the ferments of his hemlock fingers.

Who will be in the glory that calms his fingernails over the joy of Anubis? inquiring pustules of bolted injustices that stagnate in the
Sagittarius tongue flaring up trilingual on their own languages ...
If there is the blood that I can retain, it will be by submission with declined sphincters or not! seeing where everyone is without pressure or punishment of stuttering or fact that will never happen on a Patmian Reichstag, understanding that their voices
They are the proscenium of the Elohim containing the glory of the fallen when the periphery of the incisive tenebrosity are slices of the Vernarth Psalm, and of Rabbi Masoretic that shelters you when you sleep, however in a thousand years ...

I've been stragglers collecting extreme remains of immortal bones,
In invisible frames with the vanity of seven verses that escaped from my hands, thousands of them being built away from my Duoverse of love towards them atavistic ... almost become adopted children of Masoretic ignorance ... and in the confusion of the
Elohim translated into a genome after an open heart between the Alef and the Tav, between the arrow that serves as accommodation in her mind, unable to sleep if she is not there…! but high up where I can dwell, I see and I abide by being silenced in my vanity, seeing that nothing is mine and of those around me on the battlefield, who sublimate themselves by walking a lifetime on the side of my enemy wounded by the Dorus, and that I have never tried to take it off completely with slight iniquity, only avoiding zafrales and scrutiny in its search.

My vanity will perish undefeated but failed to revive itself with dazzles and sagites that pierce the saps in your children and mine, being poles of renewal of a Hoplite Raeder, cutting the thymus of the cattle and saying that their wounds are the same splendor of the Sagittae Parvulum, like Seraphim children prior to a hyperonym, fracturing sacred bravery that they enumerate him to lose himself in the numbering of infinity ...! As gladiator children, eternal infants and children of Zeus, also being Seraphim of Zeus and Cherubim who will make mustard its fragility, unstitching the time that it carves from the thyme trying to be the Kashmar "

From the eye of heaven, everything was supplied when Emmanuel himself, who was tried at the end of the battle of Patmia, was recognized. It was six o'clock in the afternoon when the omnipresent presence of Isaiah's interface antiphons was marked from where he would make them hold onto the mega Nazer as the offspring of the uncontrolled branch of his hyper parapsychology that expiated itself from the trunk of the descendants of Vernarth, alluding to to Wonthelimar as one of them who was on the wheel of Capricorn as an internal element of Hydor when it was made effective between the golden hands of Isaiah, with full genuflection enumerating from sinister to right the upright derivation of the Psalm of Etréstles with the Nazer, which is It would take refuge in the foundations of omission as a new shining principality, from where the light of the fifteen hundred years between the seventh heaven and space of this same inaugurating the stolon from where the angel Gabriel would make of all the natives of the Notsri of Nazareth the energy that surpass the masses of matter above the average of its brightness, implanting the Duoversal advance where the Mashiach. From Ofel will come the palmar remains with Marie de Vallés propitiating from the Notós or the South of the Mandragoron of Patmia, like a Bull of Concession of collective rights from Jerusalem with the remains of Isaiah in his living Status. The vernacular spirits of the Bethany journey were incarnated as the ruling planets, which would thus all be similar to Saturn, leaving all the rest with the same unrestricted semblance of cosmic materiality, with this transfer of Saturn's atmospheric outer pharaoh overshadowing all others. planets, under a stepped level towards the Messianic primogeniture, dislocating the vibrational levels above the primary embankment of the lithosphere, like a Qliphoth or shell of Saturn's debauchery when experiencing the bonds of emerging Christianization of the emotional state that made up this external preferential layer, of which of this genre they would create multi-natalist phases with the Qliphoth of the configuration of the vibratory cessation of the physical body of Patmos. In this way the seventieth Qliphoth or farfara of the compendium of exteriority and interiority would culminate, giving way to the Fos or light that would constitute the hybrid Greco-Hebraic componence on the braids that lowered from the Tekhelet of Etréstles when it levitated towards the Megaron, specifically the Naos that It would incite an end that just headed the engagement of the spaces that will be covered by the reviewing archetribe on the acroteria as the Lux of the beginning of the transfer of quantum of energy, which would begin to form the browbones and chin of Euclidean incidence in the cockades of Etréstles, by structuring itself in the cosmic rhythms of the tzitzit of its right hand, and in its left the Tallit that westernized all the supreme dogmas of eternalism, that carried a brand new covering of Áullos Kósmos with this mantle of hegemony, hanging from the tzitzit that would finally be the dragging ropes of the body of Etréstles to the cosmic ridge of Skalá. From a Genioglossal Muscle; where the Etréstles stimulation tendons were inserted, great impulses of language opened towards the pre-Adamic gates, radiating like wide puffs of the superior process that strangled the phraseologies that indicated error of omission, making everyone could conceive of each other before heading towards conversion, and to be able to aspire to the Naos from the Megarón. The most experienced used to expectorate and move sharply with their jaws when the membranes of this region fled from the tip or hyoglossal of their mouth, shuddering from its sublingual base when they saw that the Mashiach carried Etréstles half-dead from the sea, amid so many prosaic waves consuming him from a breath that was separated from it by a thin layer of adipose cell tissue, and by the Middle Septum towards the definitive Seventh Heaven of God, speaking to them of spaces that will be filled by the magnanimous who have reaped him from his Eternalism. This was neither more nor less than the protruding border of the Messiah speaking through those mouths with insignia of enunciation, and portents of words of reconversion.
Battle of Patmia Synopsis Seventh
Kathleen Jan 2021
In a new land I await
The moon is always visable
Yet it is not dark
There are no shadows
No sounds disturbs this tranquil land
I walk alone and feel no pain
I leave no footsteps inthe sand
There is no sun
I feel no cold
I am where I began
Star BG Sep 2018
I MOVE IN THE VIBRATION OF LIGHT.
THE ENERGY OF MY ESSENCE -LOVE.

I DANCE WITH ATTITUDE OF GRATITUDE.
THE GIFT OF LIFE FED ME FROM THE DIVINE
AND SOUL.

I CELEBRATE INTHE BREATH THAT HUGS,
AND MOMENT THAT EXPANDS MY JOURNEY.

I LIVE IN THE CURRENTS THAT CARRY,
AS I FLOAT WITH THE LIFE-PRESERVER OF SUN.
Inspired by chat with Luz Hanaii
Thank you.
There's a picture on the wall in a frame....
Maybe it's your family...
Maybe it's mine..
and inthe picture in the frame on the wall
Hangs a family on the wall
.... and Over the years
... Slowly
the picture tilts...
Little by little....
Years go by and ...
The picture on the wall is now crooked...
cause wear and tear will do that to a family
.... Or......
a portrait.... but....
Do we take the picture off the wall....
And replace it....
Or do we fix it...
Cause the memory is worth the history involved
and relevant to a love that once was not at all crooked....
not at all faded, or crooked...
but life has a way of shaking us all up...

...There's a picture on the wall in a frame....
Maybe it's your family...
Maybe it's mine..
Maybe it's u and ur best friend...
Maybe the one u love.........
There's a picture on the wall in a frame....
Maybe it's your family...
Maybe it's mine....
I am capable of being an inticate wirter,

I have the happensatance on happenstance,
a
nd lecture to the gods that made wine and whiskey decent,,

so I'll sar face, and tell you that I will dissolveinto a bottole of decent phd balanced wtaer...

you are amiliar with thoseairpborre [ils? yeah thats's thow I go,,
I dissovlvejust just like a hellbent sailor, and a hellbent sailor ispnetjhat smils sand glssensup the deck


and isdefinitel inthe crowsnest
anu Sep 2015
How beautiful she is
Ohhhhhh Goddddd
Today She should be the most
Happiest person inthe world
But I did a foolish thing
Let her enjoy her day pls
And let me live my own life pls
She is AWESOME
She is ADORABLE
She is EVERYTHING
No Words
And Only Wishes
God,Pls Be with her always..
Love her...
TreadingWater Jun 2017
i feel
myself;
inthequiet
& i can.
breathe.
          again.
her dark aspect speaks lifting auras
lighting candles
speaking soft and frail
convoluted distorted messages
leaked  like viscous heaven from dead eyes
when the opiates subside
she rides
monochrome + ****** up
like the march of a thousand upstart flies
into patches where she leaves
symbols inthe passing night
hearts so harlequin
they moan with lust
when strangers shadow by
never really caring
never understanding
that it is that golden crown
that twists her red dress
into deeper sadness
I am enthralled by the storys that you tell,
just as I am in love with the shape of your smile
does he speak to you the way that I do
does he think the way that you and I do
i dont care if im absolved do you
i dont care that it went this far do you
red aspect speaks
repeating in my dreams
this is what I truly want
Sometimes Starr Apr 2023
What you do when you're alone,
Crossing the line of what is right

Spewing demon seed inside your cell
Knowing full well of its ill health
Knowing empty well that it spells hell

Wipe it away with a sock

Just **** yourself

You are past that point and I'll still paint you spring
But you don't want to know how I do it

You are running on fumes for the rest of your life
Don't know how you can afford to live past twenty five

You are a cadaver that I keep alive because I can't stomach killing what was once a child
My neotenic love, you act cute to survive
Don't look at me with those eyes

I go back in time to look for places to cut
To find my food,
But I find you were right

I can't eat something with those big brown eyes

So I guess I'll just die

At whatever age I am then

I guess I'd just die.
Hira malik Dec 2018
Never she wanted to end up
Inthe world of chaos
In this strange turtle race
For all the liabilities
She always laughed at them distantly!
She never knew but,
A wave takes its form to ocean
While sweeping off everyone on the same lane!!!
JP Aug 2017
First night!!
light switched off.
She slipped her dress
for him to
***** inthe dark..

— The End —