heartbreak
They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
Dance of Seasons. Content Warning.
In the realm of time's ballet, Nature's dancers take their play, A waltz of seasons, swift and slow, A timeless rhythm, to and fro. Spring emerges with gentle grace, Flowers bloom in vibrant space, A chorus of birds, their song so clear, Announcing that a new day's near. With emerald hues, the world is dressed, As life awakens from its rest, The symphony of growth unfolds, As nature's tale, it's sweetly told. Summer arrives in vibrant blaze, Golden sunsets, warmest days, Laughter and joy fill the air, As memories bloom everywhere. The meadows sway with golden wheat, In gardens, flavors are sweet, Nature's bounty, rich and grand, A harvest festival, hand in hand. Autumn's arrival, a painter's dream, With fiery leaves, the forest gleam, A mosaic of colors, rich and bright, As nature prepares for winter's night. The cool breeze whispers in the trees, As nature sighs in gentle ease, Leaves dance and twirl in the air, A farewell performance, beyond compare. Winter arrives with snowy gown, The earth adorned in crystal crown, Silent nights, a hushed repose, As nature's dance begins to close. The snowflakes twirl in icy trance, A winter's dream, a frozen dance, In starlit skies, the dance is told, As seasons pass, they never fold. In nature's ballet, a grand design, An eternal rhythm, so divine, The dance of seasons, a tale so true, A symphony of life, ever anew.
By NAVIN S B.Com.,3 years ago in Poets
In the Penal Colony
What's your crime, Kafka? From your cut and scar to us... Now, it is our truth. The Device * Thank you for reading! If you liked this, you can add your Insights, Comment, leave a Heart, Tip, Pledge, or Subscribe. I will appreciate any support you have shown for my work.
By Kendall Defoe 3 years ago in Poets
Whispers of Eternity: A Tale of Love and Loss
Once upon a time, in the picturesque town of Willowbrook, there lived a young woman named Isabella. With her radiant smile and kind heart, she captured the attention of everyone who crossed her path. But it was in the eyes of a solitary artist named Adrian that she found her heart's true desire.
By petra leskovic3 years ago in Poets
Sunflower
It’s my fault. I let you take too much of time, too many emotions, too many tears, too much of me. I gave it all to you claiming it was heartache that I still needed to grieve. That the greatest love story wasn’t made and I clung to the hope that one day it would be. I gave you too much of my hope, too much of my future, too much of what I had. I made too much room to mourn you, too much energy looking for you, too much space in my head and in my heart. You took up too much of every part of me and every part around me. Everything reminded me of you, everything broke my heart. I gave you too much. And what did you give me? Silence. Dead silence. You never searched for me. Never came for me. Never fought for me. Never saved me. You left me with heartache and pain so deep it hurt with every step I took. I gave it all, gave all of me to you, for you to mock me. Your silence was nothing more than mockery knowing how much I’d give and how little you’d return. And although you never heard my weeping and screams, we both know you knew I would be. I told you how deeply in love I was. And you acted like a child holding a toy. You loved it for a moment and then left it outdoors. It got rained on, it got tossed and turned by the wind, it got covered in mud and strangled in weeds, waiting for you to remember it again. Yet, you stayed indoors where it was safe, where you clung to the toys that weren’t dirty or torn. And I cried for you, yelled over the wind to come and remember me. And in your silence I have heard everything. I gave you far too much of me. I’ll let you go like I should’ve a long time ago. Acceptance has finally come to give me grace. The love you owed me will die on this ground and I’ll rise from it, tall like sunflowers reaching the sky embracing the sun. The sun watched me carefully waiting for my realization, waiting for the day I’d turn to him again. His warmth always clothed me after every storm reminding me the behind the clouds he was there waiting. He watched me grow and is proud of me for the colors I wear can finally show. I’m more free now than before, waiting for for you was my nightmare but now I’m letting you go.
By Stephanie Rosas3 years ago in Poets
