Miraquill
You Were
My Beautiful
Mirage
©anecdoche
anecdoche
www.instagram.com/thedaytingale/
What defines me? Nothing. A definition excludes the possibility of change.
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anecdoche
31w
Read More/̷/̷�������� ���� �������� ������ /̷/̷
Slipping through my hands
Like rays in a wintery dawn
You stand afar
Humming another cold silence
Why can't I hear you?
Let me feel you.
I'm confined in your callousness
Bleeding on wounds still afresh
Your touch has no effect
Nor does your sight
Why can't I see you?
Make me feel you.
©anecdoche
#writersnetwork #mirakee -
anecdoche
53w
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// ���� ������ �������� �������� //
Keep me undefined
Like a river beneath the depth
And watch me melt drop by drop
On each of your breath
I have crossed the mountains
And ripped through the skies
Foraging warmth of another home
In a beloved's hopeful eyes
So, if your tragedies aren't dry
Embracing will be my sighs
Just hold me forever
And keep me undefined.
©anecdocheDoes the rain really sing?
Or is it just an echo
Of all the words
We dared not to say?
©anecdoche -
anecdoche
58w
And all the night my lullabies hum
Rhythm of the words left unstrung
©anecdoche -
anecdoche
59w
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As we sat by each other, beneath the blanket of the starlit sky, I let my words pour out of my heart and almost subconsciously said:
"You are the kind of girl people write books about"
She looked up at me, her eyes locked with mine, and her lips quiter than the silence of the sea.
"Tragic?"
"Huh?"
"Isn't tragedy the one people treasure within words? Too afraid to lose? Too mesmerized to set free?
'Cause tragedy is the one that makes them feel powerful. It flatters them. It breaks one to the bones and drags them to death, but leaves enough life in them to impress themselves. To build themselves all over again and feel powerful.
We all spend our lives villainising tragedies and giving us medals of bravery. Thinking we are the strong ones to have kept going.
The truth is, we were allowed to keep going. We were left with enough life within us to keep going. On purpose.
Accept it or not, we are all at the mercy of our tragedies".
Her eyes wandered back to the moon, perhaps searching their light within them. But mine, they knew they had found their life. Within hers.
©anecdoche"You are the kind of girl people write books about"
"Tragic?"
"Huh?"
©anecdoche -
anecdoche
91w
Read More
If forevers ever happened to be true
They will go by the name of you
And steal a hue of glee
To drown in the colour of you
From eternal sunrays to seasonal blues
Inking miracles as they come true
If forevers ever happened to be true
They will go by the name of you
The serenity freedom breathes
Has fragrance made of you
That sprinkles spry hope
Onto glooms old and new
Stealing the rhythm of a tidal wave
Stars will hum a sonnet for you
If forevers ever happened to be true
They will go by the name of you
©anecdoche
A very Happy Birthday to you @philosophic_firefly !!
May you always be happy ~♥~
#ulfatkabudday.
-
anecdoche
92w
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If hope was ever to be painted on the canvas, it would wrap itself in the colours of the sunrays trying to ignite the dying life in the last autumn leaf. It would reflect the shine of the star peeping through the shells of the clouds before a storm breaks. Its hues would cast a shadow as dark as the night behind a drunken moon. And its strokes, they would trace the paths of the tides caressing your feet every minute, just to ebb back into oblivion.
If hope was ever to be painted on the canvas, it would dress itself in the rhythm of the heartbeat hums. It would blush in the colours of innocence a flower breathes. And would drench itself in the fragrance of the first raindrop seeping on a barren field.
If hope was ever to be painted on a canvas, it would steal the hues of a sunset in a dying winter. Its silhoutte would echo the warmth of a hearty smile. And its weave, it would breathe in the shape of the vagabond wings, searching for the warmth of an abode before the dusk breaks.
And before you know, it would have left a shade of its silhoutte on your heart, staining it severly, till fear breathes again.
©anecdoche.
-
anecdoche
92w
Words bleed the colours
Your heart dwells upon
One tincture of love
And it's all begone
Some moments of glee
Or a forlorn memory
Accentuating the ones
Most thought upon
Words bleed the colours
Your heart dwells upon
©anecdoche -
anecdoche
93w
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NOTE:
This isn't a write-up. This is a letter. To someone I know will never read. But I still write, hoping one day, my words will echo loud enough to reach the corners of her heart.
---------------------------------------------
28th October 2020
Wednesday
8:00 p.m.
I know I left a long time ago. And I will never trace the footsteps I have walked on. But standing on the shores of the memories, seeing the emotions fade into the horizon, I can't help but blend into the shadows of these monochromatic words.
The sky is starless again. The smoke that owns the night leaves an essence of a past I could never forget. And the tick tock of the clock reminds me of my heartbeat racing against it. 5 years ago.
My eyes were on the door. And my patience, on the stillness of the clock. I knew you were gone. Forever. For better. But the heart wants what it wants. And then, the clock striked 8. Somebody shouted "What was the timing of her flight?" and I, without flinching a little said "8 p.m."
Wednesdays. They were never my favourite. And ever since you left me on that fateful night of October, I started hating them more. They all asked me "aren't you sad that your bestfriend left forever?" and I, with my eyes still on the door, said "No".
Time slipped away like sand through the hands. But left behind a raw dust of turbulent emotions. Voids after voids echoed through my heart and the whirlpool of miseries drowned my conscience. I wandered between the cycles of finding myself and losing identity all over again. A utopia called solace, seemed too far away.
It took time five years to bring 28th october another Wednesday, and to me, another life. Your sudden departure without a goodbye left a void. A void that never left my side. From a depressed child on medications, to a confident girl, you taught me a lot. You taught me how to smile. How to laugh. And how to fight. You taught me how to live. But your absence layered over all those lessons.
Five years ago, today, destiny erased the chapters of glee from my life. And wrote for me, the miseries that haunt me every night.
Five years later, now, I am ready to re-write the book of my life with the wings of freedom. The freedom with which I am ready to fly again.
I am heading to detach myself from all the memories that chain me from the foot of fears. And allowing myself to embrace life again.
And this time, my eyes won't be on the door.
©anecdoche
#letterc28th October
A Wednesday -
Amongst the hundreds of messages left unread, lied a question too baffling to be answered.
"How are You?" it read. How am I? I don't know. I have been trying to find an escape from the emotions reality gifted me. I am at a run. Trying to dress in the surrealities of the burning hope. I am left at the courtesy of my breaths. Constantly on the shores of the fear. The whirpool of my own imaginations choke me, and I find myself doubting every sunset I have lived.
All I am left with is me. Nothing but a rosary of lies. Lies that still hold onto the thread of hope, just to hear a silent whisper of belief. A belief to paint all the barren canvases of lies. But all that surrounds are voids. Voids that scream uncertainty. Voids that strangle breaths.
Every belief I have clunged to, shattered into pieces. Every hope I embraced, turned to ashes. The dust of my past haunts me and the future, it seems too far away. I am lost between the land of ironies and hypocrisy, it seems to be the only way.
Now, amongst all the crisis of the existential chaos, how should I tell you how I am?
©anecdoche -
Love is nothing but an ember of lies
One igniting touch and the dignity dies
Yet dreaming of spring and all it's highs
I'll burn myself to drown in your eyes
©anecdoche
-
_create_23
18w
Some thoughts are too expensive to be inked.
To immortalize certain thoughts is scary.
There's a guilty pleasure in turning the same pages but marking them feels like a crime. So you choose to steal glances of those words in your memories and silently turn off the light switch. You visit them in dreams to wake up to the nightmare.
Maybe those brimming little words hold more value and if one day, they are on paper, you'll feel they have been tampered with. Some feelings are better left untouched, some texts are best left seen and some flowers are better left ungifted, at least they live that way.
Lastly, in the name of keeping my dreams alive, I choose to say that the ink ran out.
©_create_23 -
Ahh! These resentful regrets
Keep hovering over my mind
For the things we chose
And the ones we left behind
Do you recall that cursed twilight
The night we hugged, the night we cried
And those awful scars that night
It was as if the moon had died
The treasure, that we knowingly lost
I am still there , whats there to find
The moon keeps yelling , who are you
I'm a selenophile, who is night blind
©shayan23 -
fatema153
29w
Read MorePicture of the sunset
On the wall of the sky
The ink of the sun is
Spreading colours of hope
To paint the beauty of ending
And let the world see the magic
Of beginning of forever!
©Fatema153
Thank you so much @writersnetwork for the kind repost
#painter @writersnetwork @heartsease @adamantquill @daffodilpearlzz @love_whispererr @anshikainks @dusky_dawn @btslove.
-
raika_
30w
We are the fragments of
past and future
randomly assorted together
into a present
living imperfect days,
wishing for
a perfect tomorrow
We are a bundle of lies
that we tell ourselves,
stacked together
with insecurities
staring at the sand
slip away in the hourglass
wishing for every second
to be our last
Our souls were
dipped in rainbows
when we were born
and now the colours
are wearing off with
every passing minute
and if you look closely,
you'll see how we all are
shades of black and white
on the outside
and voids on the inside
Will we ever be okay?
-raika -
virtually_real
31w
Read MoreOh it's so cold
As they told
But I'm so warm
in my coat
It's Christmas and I've prayed
For toys of all kinds and shapes
My friends are here with me
Planning chase and escape
When I opened my hopeful eyes
A lot of toys were on the rise
I thought they were all for me
But pops said
He'll give my friends three
Sammy got a mini giraffe
Jammy got a shining star
Fammy got himself a truck
And I got myself a car
Then we played for a while
Chasing others almost a mile
I stopped in middle to breathe
And ran again with a smile
But tired I was getting
Playing more wasn't befitting
So I took some rest nearby
Watching the lovely starlit sky
I said then to myself
"Oh my sore legs and hands
Don't you know how one stands?
I tripped again and fell over there
Yet I play with no fear."
I always wanna play some more
But momma says
It's better now to play indoors
So next morning
I bring out my toys
Blue, green, and pink
Asking them all
What they think
My toys speak very softly
I don't listen to them mostly
But now a car in front of me
Looks me in the eye fiercely
She says,
"Why don't you often play with me?
I just stay here and you don't see
I need some friends and company
Why not on a ride you come with me?"
I smile wide and hop in
Telling her to drive on a road thin
We go looking for Fammy
One friend of mine in many
Now he's got a truck of his own
With which he does often roam
I call out his name
And he comes to me
I see the truck he holds with glee
Smiling back I look at him
We've got toys and we're a team
Sitting together we imagine
What if we could head out in them
To a place we had never been before
Where I'll drive the car smoothly
And no longer will my legs be sore
Fammy picks up his truck
Looks at it and tries his luck
Thinking to go to the sea
He looks at it intently
He says, "I'll drive it to the shore
Where all's too beautiful to adore
I'll keep driving across the ocean
Where we both can have fun"
I think of it and laugh out loud
He loves his toys and white clouds
We watch the sky for some time
Connecting clouds into a rhyme
Then we head out to Sammy's
Who's named his giraffe as Gammy
He tells us how nice Gammy is
He never falls and never flips
I think of it and ask him
"Can Gammy carry us on his back?
I'm sure he knows a secret track."
Sammy chuckles and thinks of it
Then he smiles a little bit
Saying, "He can take us on a ride
But behind his neck we must hide."
Imagining how it'd be to travel
I say I have a beautiful desire
"Why don't we go to a grassland
Where there's only grass and no sand
All lush green and rosy
On Gammy's back the world will be
Just one beautiful story."
We all think of it and dream
Until we hear Jammy scream
It's almost evening and all's dark
Jammy comes to us with a spark
He says his star has left for the sky
And right now it's only rising high
We all run to catch a corner
On which we can rise safely
The star is shining bright
And we all glow in its light
Jammy holds the left
And Fammy right
Holding me and Sammy
They see the night
We rise and rise to the moon
Where all's too cold just too soon
Other stars greet us
Many homecoming birds meet us
The star shines and we rise up
In the sky like moon's buttercup
Comets come and go by
We like all parts of the sky
To every thought
There's something deep
Coming down we fall asleep
@mirakee @writersnetwork @whitebellI rose up to sky
In hopes to fly
And there I noticed
You smile and cry
©virtually_real -
She is the January,
rising from the cold grave of december,
And you complain about her cold and blue breaths!
©shadesofblue_ -
fatema153
31w
Read More
Amidst the chaos
I want you to sit beside me
When the sun goes down
And just have a conversation
That would remove all the
Blankness and fill beautiful
Colours in my life to make
It as pleasant as this sky
©Fatema153
@heartsease @adamantquill @daffodilpearlzz @writersnetwork @childauthor_345 @love_whispererr @inked_selenophile #ceesreposts #sunset #poetries #pod #poetry.
-
sadafiqbal
31w
I am still yours!
I still remember,
That moment,
When I could feel,
Warmth of your hand,
The pain in your voice,
Bruises on your soul.
I still remember,
that moment,
When you said,
My dear!
Across the border,
Beyond that line,
I found you,
You found me,
I am yours,
and,
You are mine,
But now,
We have to separate,
We have to sacrifice,
As the line drawn on land,
Is now drawn on hearts.
But remember dear!
My heart beats in you,
Your heart beats in mine,
No matter how far we are,
Our souls are one.
I still remember,
That moment,
The painful moment,
When it was time,
To say good bye,
When for the last time,
You hugged me tight,
In your teary eyes,
I saw my whole world,
In your strong arms,
I lived my whole life!
©sadafiqbal -
daffodilpearlzz
31w
A cursed poetry we're sometimes,
the metaphors abandon us,
consonances become the night
and days get scattered like hidden stars
in its welkin.
©daffodilpearlzz ~ Bhavya
Sat 8 Jan 2022 -
virtually_real
35w
Read More
He was a procrastinator and she was too patient. He got restless and she reached the end of her rope. They had waited for days that felt like centuries. They had only spent months but had known eachother for eternities. Just like in the movies, they confessed love that night. All there was to say had come to light.
He thought, "I wished to tell you how it's been with me lately but I know you're done waiting for my words of love. Alas, all I can say is, "I've been in love with you all along."
- Zaid
@mirakee @writersnetwork #hopeHope
Shines upon my canvas
A drop of flawless hope
I blow it across the plane
And then tie to a rope
Dragging it all the way behind
I find my love's slope
Yet in chains of my imagination
Hope still plans to elope
Across the paper it
Colours my barren sleep
It flows in different shades
When in corners I weep
Crushed behind my eyelids
It waits for the light
When I don't see nothing
It becomes my intrinsic sight
Sometimes in melancholy
I do dive too deep
Yet upon the canvas
Hope still colors my sleep
Dawn brings cold
As it does bring light
Hope brews in my heart a
New desire to fight
Shines upon my heart
A droplet of hope
Whatever may show up
It helps me to cope
©virtually_real
