art
Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
į ʂąվ, վօմ ʂąվ, էհҽվ ʂąվ; చհօ ʂąվʂ చհąէ ?!
You say : Provide! Provide ! I say: Most of it , I shall revile You say : As mystic plays coming alive ?! I say: Yes, it’s seeding with me, for quite a while You say: headless adventure ebbed to life I say: It’s two looking at two for many a mile —now, smile! You say: Will you 🛑 stop by the woods, to mingle in the wild I say: Yes, of course, pure shall be the current, banking on brooks, with “awe,” to delight ! You say : Acquainting with the clear night or will it be —gazing at the bewitching sightsI say: tied to distances, it’ll be self seeking self types You say: signify, that which echoes, all upon your voice I say : it’s myriadic spirit, deeply recitative, long possessed over those eyes You say: of that hold, many deaths nor lives could never suffice I say : a fate so chosen by thee , as though umpteen braves casted to surprise
By Madhu Goteti 2 years ago in Poets
Her Epitaph
I can’t touch the hands of dead bodies .. As an empath, I feel the depths of their empty. Like looking down a dark tunnel, knowing there’s an end but not knowing if the end fell to the oceans floor or pulled us into the center of the universe frightened me..
By Charming_Menace 2 years ago in Poets
