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  • abstruse_words_ 20w

    I take a sip from my coffee
    and wonder if he will be like its taste;
    gone after some time;
    or will he be like intoxication;
    always present.

    I take a drag from my cigar
    and wonder if he will be like smoke;
    disappear after some time
    or will he be like tar;
    sitting in my lungs, always.

    I make a wish as a shooting star falls
    and wonder if he will be like that star;
    fade after some time
    or will he be like the wish;
    stuck in my mind, forever.

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    Will he stay till the end?

  • abstruse_words_ 27w

    Love feels like the exquisite nights of my city,
    to which all people are attracted,
    but the moon, stars and lights,
    all fade away at dawn.

    Love feels like the fire running
    through my heart,
    which contains a plethora of
    sorrow instead of blood.

    Love feels like a perpetual dive
    into abysmal depth of ocean.
    It never ends, yet it gives me hope that
    there is a final destination
    where I can see you once again.

    Love feels like standing
    beside your grave,
    and having the courage to
    hold the tears.

    Love feels like me,
    which exists still disappoints,
    Or maybe love feels like you,
    which doesn't exist still never disappoints.

    #poetry #poem #miraquill @miraquill @writersnetwork #love #lovepoem #lovepoetry

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    Love feels different these days


  • abstruse_words_ 28w

    Somewhere in this city, I live.
    The house within which I live is not made up of tenuous blocks of happiness
    but hatred and anxiety.
    In winters if feels like a freezing ice, not willing to melt the pain
    but it can't compare to the coldness in my scorching heart.
    ������������������ �� �������� ��'�� ������������ ��ℎ���� ��ℎ���� ℎ��������

    Depression is served in plates as meal for me each morning.
    They force me to gulp it down the throat
    until the realisation hits me and I become anxious.
    �� �������������� ���������������� ���������� ������ℎ��, �������� ���� �������� ���� �������� ������������ �������� ���� ��ℎ���� ������������ ℎ��������

    I know there is a hope - a hope to know what days of joy feel like.
    I've only heard the shrieks and cries in the silence of people living in this house.
    I want to know what happiness sounds like.
    �� �������� ℎ�������� ��������ℎ���� ����������. ������ ��ℎ���� ���������� ���� ℎ������ ���� ��������ℎ?

    I've lost the count of times people asked me "Are you okay?"
    and the number of times I replied, "Yes, I am."
    Is there anybody who knows the answer of this question without even asking it?
    Is there anybody who can wipe off my tears better?
    because I'm too lubugurious and indolent to wipe my own tears.
    ���� ��ℎ������ �������������� ��ℎ�� ������ ��ℎ���� ���� ��ℎ���� �������� ���������� ��������?�������������� ������ ���� �������� ��'���� �������� ������������ ������ ����������������.
    #poetry #poem #englishpoetry #longpoetry #miraquill @miraquill @writersnetwork #sadpoetry #sad #darkpoetry

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    Somewhere in this city


  • abstruse_words_ 29w

    It is raining here,
    after such a long time.
    Under the rain, I break apart
    shedding tears.
    Is there anybody who could wipe
    off my eyes better?

    How many rainy days would it take
    to wash this grief off my heart?
    How many cold drops of rain would it take
    to remind me that I'm burning like ardent flame?
    I only realise the rain is cold because
    my inner fires burn fiercely. 

    Rain, do me a favour.
    Come when bodies turn into ash,
    when the tears have dried
    and bodies need a wash.

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    Rain, do me a favour


  • abstruse_words_ 29w

    I see him sitting in the
    corner of the classroom,
    fidgeting his fingers and
    filling the void between them
    by intertwining them with pens.

    I see him sitting alone
    by the window in bar after school
    while I make my way to home.
    He looks out of the window
    at the radiant sun
    like he wants to be the sun,
    and perish all the darkness
    which resides in him.
    But he can't.

    He tries to write his poems
    by mixing colours, love, and glitters
    yet they look like
    they are made up of plethora of
    broken prayers, solitude and
    torn letters.

    He thinks he's worthless
    but I don't.
    I think he's the one who brings
    warmth of sun on the
    frore land,
    just by smiling and gently touching
    his brown hair which keeps
    hanging on his forehead
    and conceals frown he's making
    every time he's confused and lost.

    His life is stuck between the
    euphoria and dysphoria.
    He finds himself between
    the gaps of his broken heart
    and mind.
    He finds himself looking at the
    torn love letters.
    He finds himself in the streets
    of broken poets
    because somewhere between
    something and nothing,
    he once loved a lot.
    #poem #poetry #poetrycommunity #englishpoetry #englishpoem #prose #miraquill #lovepoem #lovepoetry @miraquill @writersnetwork @writersbay

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    Darkness inside him


  • abstruse_words_ 30w

    On some days, when I'm not a poet, I curl up on the cold floor so that I can cry shamelessly. I'm besieged by pastel pink colored walls but all I see is blood red. I keep staring at those walls even though I'm scared of them. I scream and cry as much louder as I can to stop all of this. I cry because I'm sick of crying. Sometimes, I reach a point where I'm scared of my own screams.

    On some days, thorns wrap my heart and I can't scream or write about the unmovable pain. I feel the anger burning inside me and it pounds in my chest, throbs on my lips and boils in my mind. The anger inside me roars like ocean waves crashing against the shore. The only thing I can do is shout and let my anger out until my throat is raw.

    One some days, I don't want to write about the loneliness in my life, because I'm too tired. Also, who reads the poems of a poet who spend her life writing about death and being friendly to loneliness? I go out, seeking for ecstasy but suddenly I feel alone. I feel alone infront of the huge crowd.

    I don't always write about you and me. I write about the people who are deeply in love, people I wish to meet or people who don't even exist. But on some days, I just watch those people, sometimes in my imaginary world, in parks or in books. I contemplate that if we both had loved each other a little more, I would have written more about you and these poems wouldn't have been so sappy.

    On some days, when I'm not a poet, I'm the poetry penned somewhere in the dilapidated journals, a zephyr blowing someone's hair and reminding them of their love, a wilted rose beside a grave, which withers daily like the memories of the person in that grave, or a song with no lyrics which is sung by a boy to his beloved.

    #poetry #poem #caption #englishpoetry #englishpoem @writersbay @miraquill @writersnetwork #death #poet #writer #writing

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    When I'm not a poet


  • abstruse_words_ 30w

    Know that his emotions can be heightened at any time and his rage his redder than the love he ever felt, he won't hesitate for a moment to kill you. So, don't be too fragile or too strong.

    He has a cold dead heart. He will burn in the love of your sunlight, your form of loving him is to pour yellows and shines but those are his biggest fears. So love him in all the possible darks. Fill love in the darkness and let him wear it as a locket that protects him.

    He says he loves immortality but deep down he doesn't. He has roamed the streets of both euphoria and melancholy. He has felt pain and love before and there's just too much that time can't erase. Oh how wrong he was to think that immortality meant never dying.

    Don't draw your love stake through his weak heart. You will destroy him. Rather stake love in his fangs, his strengths. Then watch his dead soul bleed love for you.

    In the daylight, invite him to rest in the coffin of your fears. He will drown and still breathe in the lake of your fears. He will embrace them. So, feed him the veins of your fears.

    His high senses hear everytime your heart breathes for him. Let your heart scream the words your afraid to. Let the screaming heal his wounds.

    The taste of lust for the blood, he knows. The lust of your soul for his love, he knows. So let him rust in the flames of your lust. Let him burn in the ignites of it.

    Care for him so much, that he would love you more than he loves blood. Know that only immortals know the meaning of forever and will love you for the lifetime.

    To remember, he is dead but he dies for you every night.
    @mirakeeworld #poetry #vampire #poem @writersnetwork @miraquill #darkpoetry #darkpoems #darklove #lovepoem @writersbay

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    How to love a vampire?


  • abstruse_words_ 38w

    If tomorrow starts without me,
    and if my body is not here,
    if the sound of my words refuse to
    come out to reach your ears,
    if my eyes refuse to
    look deep into your eyes,
    if my hands refuse to
    fill the void between your fingers,
    do not worry then,
    For I will be always here,
    in the coloured pages of your heart,
    With name of mine written on them.

    If tomorrow starts without me,
    Tell my mother I loved her so much,
    but I couldn't say a last beautiful goodbye to her.
    She will smile and tell you, you were the last person I loved.
    Tell my father I had always tried to
    make him proud and happy,
    but I couldn't make myself live longer and happy.
    He will smile and tell you,
    you were the reason I always had a smile on my face.
    Tell my brother even though I used to annoy him,
    he was the only person who could cope with my foolishness and sarcastic comments.
    He will smile and tell you,
    you were the 2nd person in this world
    I used to love to hate.
    And at last tell yourself,
    the girl you used to love with an intense feeling is here -
    in the pages of your journal,
    in the romantic songs of your Playlist,
    in the thousand winds that blow and caress your hair,
    in the droplets of gentle autumn rain,
    and at last in your heart.

    If tomorrow starts without me love,
    do not let the tears flow away,
    just wipe them, and smile everyday.
    Promise me you will accept the fate
    and live your life like it used to be.
    If the heavens are for real,
    know that I will look for you always.
    And If the Gods are for real,
    know that You and I were the best creatures ever created by him.

    ~ The girl who has found her heart and got to know it beats on your name.
    #poetry #poem #lovepoem #death #lovepoetry #love #poetrylovers #longpoetry #caption #longpoem @miraquill @writersnetwork@mirakeeworld #mirakeeworld @writersbay

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    If tomorrow starts without me