daphnae

youtu.be/W5fZNptUv_s

Perhaps in the end, it is only us to be blamed.

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  • daphnae 39w

    I really don't know what it means.

    From A to Z leaving X... I couldn't... I am sorry. I love poetic devices. #alliteration #wod @writersnetwork

    Thank you for all the love you guys showered. Going on a little break tonight. Take care peeps. I'll miss you.

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    Attacking the attic along my ally
    Beaming the light I barely bore.
    Crushing candies which clutched my childhood
    Daunting doves, driving drunk
    Espy the eclipsed enemy
    Forging flauntless flowers from the forest
    Grovelling genres which graved the grace
    Had them hidden, holding high and far.
    Irking ink in intoxicant I itched
    Jazz playing through the jealous January
    Kids kissing kites of kinds
    Lasting through the lovable lie
    Mourns meandering with morning muse
    Nothing but the nerving neighs.
    Over oceans, over orotunds
    Promising pristine plates of people
    Quoting questions quick and quiet
    Rivers roaring rough rumours
    Stealing stains from the stars
    They tremble towards the trust
    Until utopia ushers runs out.
    Voicing vows varying volumes
    Whining, withering, wintery words
    Yearning years you yawned
    Zephyrs of zilch zooming zero off.
    ©daphnae

  • daphnae 39w

    I don't know what this means. #chainverse

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    The zephyrs are dead,
    dead in the middle of the night,
    night followed by lies
    lies stuck behind her breath
    breath counting life away.
    Away with memories haunting her,
    her voice trembling and creeping in
    in to the closet she carved to,
    to slip the rackets from the skies
    skies of cries, playing with her stars.
    Stars which betrayed her yesternight,
    yesternight again to the moon this time.
    Time painted her brown and grey
    grey frocks, black socks she led astray.
    Astray from the living, towards the dead.
    ©daphnae

  • daphnae 39w

    And if you are struggling with your heart, give it some time, give it some space. Everything will eventually fall in place. If not, talk about it. With anyone you trust. I am there too :)) #oozingoneliners

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  • daphnae 39w

    ©daphnae

    #headline #wod
    Thank you @writersnetwork (15)

    And @mirakee for the POD �� (4)

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  • daphnae 40w

    I open my eyes every morning to my mother's voice talking to me like the moon talks about stars. Her voice tricky and homely at the same time. The sleep in my mind instantly clashing against the light coming from the window, my mom just pulled the curtain from. I sit down, on some days, shout at her too. She replies to my scream by bringing me a glass of warm water to my table. Our conversation ends there almost immediately, mine from guilt and hers from non-chalance.

    I watch my mother everyday carrying nothing but a charm of her own, amidst hundreds of fault my family layers upon her and her existence. When we talk, we talk about everything. The 'everything' which churns my heart into another phase of reality. She talks about how her heart was burnt continuously until the pieces transformed into sharp shards of pain. She tells me about her tears, how dried up they are from crying everynight since she became a woman. Her silence makes me wonder when was the last time she smiled from her heart. The ignorance led me to the blue I never felt till eternity.

    Here is a sonnet from my mother's point of view:

    //The blazing sun runs back and ahead,
    With a fear avoided of burning in agape.
    I ask you O' sun, how did I end up in the shed
    Being devoid of your rays they scrape?
    Why do I need to gulp my vehemence
    And starve from kindness in the dark
    While each of my neighbour spit hatred in salience?
    My father etched in my heart, a mark,
    Parallel to the skies and bondings they art
    I walk by the fine line of love in my soul
    My mind stronger than stars, shattered is my heart.
    I bathe alongside the cursed rivers of foul
    Which took away my dreams in a pace.
    Home gone, life gone, all I live for is my children's brace.//

    'cause my mother is the symbol of love: love in the heart, kind from the soul, beauty in the smile, brilliance from the mind. And how could I ever write about something else when I watch the only angel of my life walking past my sins, forgiving them after she knows I have realized.
    ©daphnae

    @writersnetwork Thank you for the repost (14) @mirakee #symbol #wod

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  • daphnae 40w

    I am sure this was going to be one another beautiful page in my diary until you intervened my words.

    #mirakee #wn #pod #fragilefebruary @writersnetwork

    HIGHLY INSPIRED BY @veloc1ty_

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    The moonless night often feels like a shore without the sea. What would it look like? Imagine and think. I would say a desert with a fresh salty scent, emanating from the stars twinkling over the sand. It's funny how I write to let go of you and all they offer me is your memories. The casket of my city you dig out every night since the daylight in your side of the world ended. Tying the skies which behold my existence in yours, I watch the colliding stars from a distance altering everytime I wish to perceive the perfection of their apocalypse. They narrate to me their favourite fables of the time, when I belonged to the sky my grandparents talked about in their dreams. They ask me to cradle the new moon sitting beside the autumn tree which had sung me the songs of kindness last spring. I chose the silence over the songs which felt warm. I chose the brown over life. If you are hearing me, if the breeze is still conveying my words to you like they did before, you know the reason behind. I chose brown since you painted me with the same, the night I told you about the curtains of my lonesome house shaded with the tree.

    I lost you in so many ways and I count that along the number of cigarettes that fell off my fumbling hands while breathing your scent in. Your essence stays behind the bookshelf I sat and imagined us beside, against the corners of the walls which hum my unheard poems to you, on the bed which played out my heart infront of yours, behind doors you locked me up towards. I am high, and I know that by the way I've been numb against the three empty black bottles lying over the wooden floor of my balcony. The fused fairylights in my room stays there rentfree. I hear my mom shouting to have them removed and I later hear myself saying to her "Perhaps they'll light up again. Let them stay."

    And here I am again, waving to the deserted oceanless shore engrossed with the loud tides stabbing into my ears. Just in the hope of marrying away a stranger cursing me in a parallel universe...
    ©daphnae

  • daphnae 40w

    We often forget about people until death meets them.

    Does this come under #epigram ? @writersnetwork

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    You longed for me just the way I did,
    Chasing me down the grave only when you realized someone else kissed me infront of your eyes, the one named death.
    ©daphnae

  • daphnae 40w

    Acrostic poem for The Virgin Battlefield.

    I don't know if this makes sense.
    @silverwings Remember this prompt?

    @writersnetwork ����

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    Vehemently rushing over the winds
    Irking shadows beneath the grave,
    Rescued prisoners held at stray
    Itching corners rhyming apocalypse all the way.
    Nurtured knive, smoking guns as far as you could see.

    Boring into the little eyes, and into the hearts
    A demand against the walls blood-stained
    Truncating lives lost for the land,
    To the oblivion spelling politics in the end.
    Love crashing the wounds of the grass
    Egressing through the streets their feet would cross.
    Frowning along the borders of Alaska
    Irony breaking through the edges.
    Emotions taking toll of morality
    Looking back weaves a graffiti of loss.
    Demons drowning, hunger flying.

    /"and what did you think a war could bring about?" - The Virgin Battlefield/
    ©daphnae

  • daphnae 40w

    It's old but the only positive I've written in days. @fairytales_ Here you go.

    @writersnetwork @mirakee #SORAW #diaryentry

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    Sunday, 10 Jan 2021

    Dear Diary,

    It's new year already and I can't believe I haven't written anything to you since the past five months. Lockdown made me lazy, or I could say, disturbed. It was a thing I hated the most, but it made me who I am now : a person I am proud of. There are things I am guilty about. Whatever I have now (after losing so many things), I am satisfied at least. I realized the worth of life and real friends. I realized how everyone else's life is bamboozled, and the person I am is stronger than I could ever imagine. My journey from being an over-sensitive girl to a girl who forgot how tears felt like in her cheeks. From writing being a hobby, to the only companion I have. From hating myself to living for myself in the end. I have grown, grown to love myself and know my worth, how I should be treated, how should I help others and still love myself. Being strong and still being kind. Being a support to my friends and still bracing my scars. Helping people around me cure and still healing my wounds step by step. Spreading love all around and still waiting for mine to find me. Smiling for everyone until my heart co operated in return. I am so proud of you Sadiah. I never dreamt about this strong version of yours. And the way you are holding onto life and hope, I don't think anyone can ever stop you. You'll shine until their eyes shrink. People will always speak. (demotivate mostly)

    Today when I say that- I know now that you can make it, I ain't being over confident. I believe in myself. I can and I will be happy with what makes me. I'll make the sky kiss me, 'cause the ground has helped me enough.

    Love and hope,
    Sadiah
    ©daphnae

  • daphnae 40w

    Just a journey of another dark kind, the people labelled as a poet for penning his reality with the wrenching ink on his table.

    @writersnetwork @mirakee #sijo #mirakee

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    Stars die along my verses
    Love drifts apart the zephyrs I etch.

    Questioning the rhymes on my table,
    I whine among the filthy shades I arc.

    Crushing emotions of my sonnets,
    they applaud my doldrums held in the syllables.
    ©daphnae