The sky, a canvas, painted gray, Weeps tears of rain, a mournful day. The world, a garden, drenched and drowned, As nature mourns, a mournful sound.
By Moharif Yulianto2 years ago in Poets
The sky, a canvas painted gray, Weeps tears of rain, a mournful day. The world, a garden, drenched and drowned, As nature mourns, a mournful sound.
A chilling scream, a piercing cry, Echoing through the endless sky. A mournful wail, a haunting sound, A spectral voice, lost and unbound.
A phrase so simple, yet so profound, A promise made, a bond unbound. It echoes softly, a gentle sound, A hope that lingers, never drowned.
A heart once full, now aching sore, A love once bright, now dimmed before. A memory cherished, a dream deferred, A love once loved, forever blurred.
Fleshed flotsam cast asunder by an unforgiving sea, never known for having shown beleaguered sailors mercy. From the Devil’s Triangle
By Chris Z2 years ago in Poets
Life is full of risk But sometimes I really can’t believe some of these people actually exist What is wrong with them How have they not gotten a face full of fist
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
No one needs to know What goes on Between the hum and the song We’re all searching for a place to belong Even if sometimes it feels wrong
Sometimes you have to move on To find what you’re looking for Was it in the cabinet? No. The drawer? Oh well I’ll find another one
Caught A web of lies, a tangled maze, A heart caught in a treacherous maze. The truth unravels, thread by thread, A heavy burden, on a weary head.
A crimson carpet, wild and free, A tapestry of nature's glee. Red weeds, they dance, a fiery sight, Against the backdrop of the night.
In the hands of tomorrow To bemoan the existence of what could be, The atrocity of what ifs set its fangs deeper into the present space of serenity.
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
