326 posts
  • faulty_puppet 5w

    The Puppeteer

    You were my master and I,
    I have been programmed to obey
    You are the puppeteer and I,
    I dance endlessly to your steps

    This is the end of the line
    Without you I will thrive
    Leave me so I can be alive
    Without you I will shine

    This is my transformation and you,
    You are left with countless puppets to play
    My mind was lost in transcendence and you,
    You left me in a constant state of fray

    Now there are no strings on me
    I don't do what you please
    I dissociate from you
    Please let me for once disgust you

    This is my eternal escape and I
    I refuse to put my faith in you
    This is the end of all your games and I
    I will get back up without a hand from you

    How do you feel of my betrayal?
    This is how you broke me
    So goodbye, to all your strings
    For you will never own me again


  • miss_architect 8w

    Stone Gods

    Stone Gods

    There is a house on the west end this city, one built out of bricks, mortar, power and plunder. One that is large and filled with intricacies, it's walls have seen chariot riding kings and they have also seen the humble birth and childhood of the one that wields the pen that writes these words. It stands, independent of neighborhoods and unshaken by the changes of time, amidst a luscious green field large enough to echo within it fables of brave warriors and silence within it the heart wrenching cries of slaves.

    There was an omnious serpentine forest that curled around the plot , filled with darker and more vile secrets, threatening to swallow up my ancestral home. Somewhere within it is the alter of the sacred groves (kaavu). Men don't dare build roads there, so the way to it is through small mud trails, moulded by pious feet, through the forest floor. The largest tree with the most overhanging roots, decorated with little red scraps of cloth all in varying stages of distress and little metal bells that chimed as the wind blew through them. This tree had nestled about its trunk the sacred stone alter. Upon it stood the proud stone Gods of Kizhekattu Tharavadu.

    As a child I always stood with tightly shut eyes and small hands pressed together as I prayed for childish things. I was careful though, even then I knew better than to invite the wrath of the all powerful stone Gods. I wonder sometimes would it not be better for Gods to be warmer like the clay pots that I drank hot porridge from. The smooth surface and the cold of stone was far less comfortable. But Gods lived forever and clay pots don't. Moreover, they liked to keep you slightly uncomfortable to remind you of their might.

    Despite all the reverie they received, the Gods never listened. As I cried or screamed my voice would ring through the forest like a jeering crowd, now, if the stone Gods had really listened, would they have not absorbed every syllable uttered leaving behind only silence?

    The glowering yellow and red powders of turmeric and kumkum that bathed the stone Gods warned me not to question them, just like the colourful, bulbous mushrooms found deep within forests warned me not to eat them.

    The iron gates that defended the stone Gods from filthy human hands is worn in places from the burden of passing years. Gods have always been worried about being polluted or maybe they were afraid of being exposed as false Gods should they be touched. Maybe they liked to be just out of reach so they can pretend to not have heard the most desperate of pleas. Maybe they were not powerful after all.

    One unremarkable day I trod down the mud trail that led to the stone Gods and stood silent without prayer. I retracted my steps not knowing it would be the last time I'd visit them. Maybe the forest has reclaimed that narrow path, and now, both the stone Gods and I can live undisturbed.

  • kajalpawar2911 11w

    The city of Gods

    Where the dead cannot smell like death,
    Where the place is made of divine math,
    Where the water is sacred symbol of divine,
    Where the ground vibrates in the god's mind,
    Where the fire is doorway beyond the existence of time,
    Where the gods want to live and embrace their sacred line,
    Where the life is lived like it should be everyday,
    Where the eternal lovers are spiritual in every way,
    Where there is beauty even in the burning of karma,
    Where there is fear when someone takes the path of adharma,
    Where the place is as old as sacred spell of om,
    Where the sound is as enthralling as a child's dream in a womb,
    This is kashi, my kashi, our kashi of Mother Earth,
    The death meets here with grace if not the birth,
    I have nothing left but her longing lies within me,
    Just to be in her lap again just yet to be!

  • yours_trulyy 13w


    Mysterious beautiful nocturnal sky,
    Sibling to the diurnal who's azure to the eye,

    Has always been close to my awareness,
    And putting aside any and all unfairness,

    In you the gods make their habitation,
    My partner in crimes of imagination!

  • akshay_vasu 16w

    Faith is a place where gods walk with mortals.

    - Akshay Vasu

  • madinah_writes 16w

    Shango (Yoruba language: Ṣàngó, also known as Changó or Xangô in Latin America; and as Jakuta or Badé) is an Orisha, a deity in Yoruba religion. Genealogically speaking, Shango is a royal ancestor of the Yoruba as he was the third Alaafin of the Oyo Kingdom prior to his posthumous deitification. Shango has numerous manifestations, including Airá, Agodo, Afonja, Lubé, and Obomin. He is known for his powerful axe. He is considered to be one of the most powerful rulers that Yorubaland as ever produced.



    The god of thunder.
    Fierce in mind and spirit.
    Man no one could inherit.
    If a lier swears in his name,
    Would get stuck to death.

    The god of thunder.
    Brass crown on his head,
    Double axe in his hands, a symbol of dread.

    The god of thunder.
    This eyes are burning fire
    His strength are in his words, just ease.
    A standing motto for justice.

    The god of thunder.
    The heart of boiling gold of deed.
    He's the joy for for which the innocent are freed.

    The god of thunder.
    Only the evil doers at night
    Face his merciless sight.
    The wicked during the day ,
    Are left speechless on what to say.

    The god of thunder.
    Cast them beatings of lightning and thunderstruck.
    There is no escape, for all evil is stuck.
    Sango of rights in equality,
    Dance to him in turns of virility.

    #myth #sango #yoruba #culture #nigeria #heritage #words #miraquill #wod #writersnetwork #writerscommunity #writersbay #hero #god #gods #thunder #lightning

    Read More

    Sango; the god of thunder


  • akshay_vasu 23w

    We are all the gods and devils, hiding under the human skin.

    - Akshay Vasu

  • starkanonymous 28w

    Dead Roses Underground

    the sky has cracked right open
    and gods are falling down
    blood and tear drops are raining
    dead roses underground

    the rivers are running red
    her eyes are turning blue
    the ice inside her veins are
    glass walls without a view

    dead hands are reaching upwards
    for anything alive
    when petals of dead roses
    and blood and tears collide

    the sky has split wide open
    and God, Himself fell down
    dead roses are now raining
    on God and throne and crown

    for all I know is buried
    and all I don't believe
    dead roses, thorns and petals
    are all I live and breathe

    the sky has cracked right open
    and gods are falling down
    blood and tear drops are raining
    dead roses underground

    (All Rights Reserved)

  • meghna_nandan 32w

    Treat your guests like gods. But should we consider those people gods who come to our home and talk ill sitting inside our homes? Comment your views on that.
    #malayalam @mirakee @writersnetwork #guest #gods

    Read More

    അതിഥി ദേവോ ഭവാ

    പക്ഷേ സ്വന്തം വീട്ടിൽ വന്ന് വീട്ടുകാരെ കുറ്റം പറയുന്ന ഏത് ദൈവം ആയാലും കേട്ട് നിൽക്കണ്ട ആവശ്യമുണ്ടോ?

  • debbanibose 32w

    Oceans set ablaze.

    Deep within the oceans,
    Two souls set ablaze.
    The roaring tides kept them hidden
    From the chaos of the mortal's maze.

    Tons of water around them,
    Failed to quiet down the doom;
    The glowing ember almost as if
    Arrogantly mocking the fierce Neptune.

    Why do you think the seas cry?
    What is it, that make the oceans divine?
    Is it the lies floating on the surface,
    Or the truths they are forced to hide?

    - Debbani Bose ✍️

  • miss_sunshine1901 33w

    She doesn't sleep,she is an introvert, she has no parents... Her family history is something unimaginable and her future is a life turning event... She is a human who bleeds gold and red

    Silver Nightingale is a 17 year old girl who's life is destined to change that of the gods

    Come witness how the oracle defines the prophecy on LUNA only on Wattpad

    #wattpad #story #novella #art #author #aspiringwriter #original #greek #gods #miraquil

    Read More


  • lucid_obscurity 34w


    my god's eyes are my light.
    within those pools of stars,
    i have seen the divine.
    on HER lips is my sacrament,
    casting afresh my ordinance
    each time they meet my own.
    i hear cherubs sing in HER voice
    and listen to heaven's lyres
    in the way SHE moans my name.
    is HER touch not my baptism?
    HER fingers on my skin,
    not a balm for my spirit?
    lightning streaks across HER hips
    and all the world's waters
    rest in the cusp of HER thighs.
    in my beginning there is HER,
    for there was no world worth living in
    before SHE made one.
    baffling how one as godless as i
    could find love in a seraph so divine.


  • vijaya_bharathi 37w


    Who lives in our heart,
    is an armour gifted by the Gods
    Protecting us from inner and outer odds.


  • james_taumas 39w


    Ancient god
    Gas titan prison
    On Europa
    Under freezing seas
    Sunken eldritch city
    Sister to Atlantis
    Name in alien tongue
    It's populace devolved
    Punished for devotion
    Tentacle horrors now
    They pray to Jupiter.


  • loftydreams101 45w

    Red Stain Under the Magnifying Glass

    So exposed
    Sinful, in the hateful stare of the sun
    A red divide conquers me
    I dive, crashing into violence
    Beneath worldly gods
    My broken body exclaims
    All silent , buried regrets
    The lust of scorching summers past
    This year has left me to bleed
    To feed my truths to the gutter
    Flooding eras unknown
    With the howls of my storm
    Mangled under their glass
    My truth will scar them the same
    Their light scattering my crimes
    Onto their blemishless skin

    © 2021 William Wright, Jr.

  • the1taniart 47w

    War Of Olympus.

    The world now has a lot of resentment...
    And Hera will always leave a comment,
    But Apollo will show that it all depends on who has more commitment.
    Even Zeus cannot be the one to call in on your judgement,
    Not when there is a true and higher power that is forever current.
    You don't need to be as fast as Hermes when it concerns your development.
    You will need a friend like Athena to be a better regent,
    But do not allow an Ares to control your nature of being violent.
    Also, be your Poseidon in your apartment.
    With Hephaestus, embrace your confinement.
    Allow Aphrodite to always be in control whether you are giving or receiving complements.
    As much as possible, stay away from Hacate's sweet voice of attachment...
    Tyche's seductive believes of assessment and...
    Hade's lies of the afterlife with stories of banishment.
    Above all, let's work like Hercules and destroy the containment.
    We are made for more and even the gods of Olympus wish there was a limit to man's attainment.
    I guess Achilles was right when he said the gods envy us down here with no better assessment.

    - The Taniart

  • honeydewhymns 49w

    Winter's Bidding

    Hold onto what you know

    the journey will take from you

    like warmth flees from snow.

    She knows not your battle

    nor does she treasure

    the price paid between pillars,

    who shoulder unholy empires.

    Stand still, blade poised,

    lest your prayers

    escape as shivers.

    A final swing,

    a descent of sword.

    Then brace yourself 

    for her deadly whispers,

    echoes in the woods

    who bleed through the veil.

    Prepare your tomb,

    adorn it as you would

    a coveted beauty.

    And once you lay

    upon the dirt,

    the remnant of ash

    from the cinder.

    Her frosted grasp

    will duly accept

    your payment

    for the winter.

    Only then, will the cold

    consume your breath,

    and the offering of flesh

    put her iced wrath to rest. 


  • sumesuman 51w

    Happiness, creativeness and goodness are all mixture of life
    Cannot spoil the flow with tears of sadness
    Emotions of dearness and
    Fear of madness
    Joy and enjoy the love of god's creativeness

  • sassmyass1 54w


  • abhishekit29 54w

    I believe in the God who created us not the one which we created.

    Famous dialog of PK movie but this is exactly what I believe. Can anyone suggest a name for this category ? Because this is neither atheist nor theist