Crimson whispers drift,Amber flames kiss earth's soft sigh—One last gleam, then night.
How does it work?
This felt surreal with a sad ending. Nicely done!
More stories from Muhammad Talha and writers in Poets and other communities.
Just as the world tilts forward, the horizon slits open, dusk spills like ink across a blade of road. Gravel hums underfoot, a low hymn. The wind snags on my coat, tugging like a child who won’t speak.
By Muhammad Talha7 months ago in Poets
There’s a silent strength that flows through feminine veins, One hidden behind a pasted smile and a black sense of humour,
By Colleen Millsteed 2 days ago in Poets
I want this deep peace under the old tree’s cool shade nothing more I need. Note: I find immense peace among the trees. What about you?
By Seema Patel7 days ago in Poets
This challenge wasn’t about clean starts. It was about that weird in-between where something is beginning, but no one really knows what yet. A lot of these stories leaned into hesitation, into pauses and false starts and that feeling that something is about to happen but hasn’t quite.
By Vocal Curation Team3 days ago in Resources
Comments (1)
This felt surreal with a sad ending. Nicely done!