The world unfurls in shades of stark, A canvas painted after dark. Not absence of color, but a choice, To see in shadows, hear in noise.
By Moharif Yulianto2 years ago in Poets
The supports are rotting. I feel every creak and pop, A symphony of decrepitude, Joints unreliable and failing. It's harder to arise each morning,
By Catsidhe2 years ago in Poets
In the grand book of life, each page holds a tale, A story unique, where each soul sets sail. We're the main characters, in our own spotlight,
By Mia Dwi Arifiyanti2 years ago in Poets
A mom casts her goals into the ocean; we, the words sent bobbing in the direction of the sun, the eggs of stone,
By Kamal O. Touhami2 years ago in Poets
It has been five years since I have been estranged from my family, My dad is aging and has a progressive lung disease. He was magnificent in this world to his peers,
By Sid Aaron Hirji2 years ago in Poets
The sun dips low, a fiery, fading ember, Casting long shadows, a day-ending reminder. We stand and watch, the twilight's gentle sigh,
The ideal man, a concept spun in dreams, Not sculpted features, but of noble themes. No chiseled jaw, nor eyes of piercing blue,
In whispered dreams, where shadows softly creep, A vision forms, a girl I long to keep. Not carved from marble, nor a painted face,
The leaves, once vibrant, don their hues of red, A mournful symphony, summer's song now dead. A chill wind whispers secrets through the trees,
In realms unseen, where whispers weave a song, Eight deities to whom the ages belong. Not carved in stone, nor bound by mortal hand,
Is the beauty of realism a facet of truth or the prescribed norm of society? The beauty of the strides reckons itself like the clock work's step
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
High in the kapok's leafy embrace, A woven wonder, a feathered space. The parrot's nest, a vibrant display, Of twigs and leaves, where sunbeams play.
