My heartfelt thanks to @writersnetwork for their kind repost. I can't express my happiness in words....This is my second repost by them. I am truly grateful to you. Means alot. This just made my day. Looking forward to more of it. I will surely try to write even better now onwards. ❤️❤️
So, This is a prompt given by @writersbay The prompt is to: Write a prose,poetry or quote with the word "KALON" -(N.)beauty that is skin deep. #kalonc Here it goes. Hope you like it !
The relics that I showcase today, Are adorned with the amity of my bleeding heart's fray ! Age old souvenir echo their pains, My sceptical blood rushes through my veins! Although you see it as dark as doom today, My love for you will be kalon in the incoming days .
The aversion that I endeavoured to abet, Rationalised my sins and begets. My sunshines were then hued with grey... My old ruffles turned out to be the burning hay ! Although I see it as a chance to have tried, My aversion for you will be kalon in the incoming collateral lies.
The forever of the promises that we glittered with vice, We possessed the platonic sides of our hides. The remnants were then left akin The fallen stars,lost in dreams. Although I feel it as forever-ed never, The reminiscences of my vows will be kalon in your incoming ever.
The torn pages that held our tale... Will hold your trail once I sail Down the riverine of doom's safe terrain. Huh! If you build them up ,you will refrain. Although the broken words mean nothing They will be kalon in your heart's incoming beatings.
The memories of my curse will never hue your dawn, Neither will they show up in the morn. I bless you today for tomorrow I will be no more... My days end here and I leave you with mine amore. Although this pen drags me down my ruins You will see me akin kalon when tomorrow I will end up having been a bad dream .
Thank you @writersnetwork for the kind repost ! ________________________________________________
Daylight never offers her the kalon soothing roughness of pillow fights with night or the silk that only moonlight knows. She curls her lips like romancing with her poetry with silence dancing on her bosom, sneezing and holding time. She knows that surreal romance, clicking noises of seizures and tears, of ink and words.
Like Greek philosophers, she's also believing that expression of kalon may be in writing verses after verses, words after words, beautiful yet incomplete expressing the same old thoughts again and again, with the same old heart.
Sometimes, she falls in love with trays of colors, a texture, an old faded wall, a rusted old page of a diary, a temple because they speak a language that tells her about spiral existence, tells her the omen of things to come, of kalon of pure art.
She dreams in colors that drive away the blues. She wants to swivel in the freedom of the wind, her fragrance spreads gently with a breeze. She's the lover of words. She's the museum of shifted identities, a galaxy of romanticized dreams and passion.
Kalon; for her defines the eyes that see beauty in everything, with a heart that expands with visions to write and read and explore, to live peacefully in oneness.
Kalon; for her is where daisies sing like little birds, where life doesn't stop at one or few windows: it does takes a lot of courage to realise this and much more courage to lose few things.
Kalon in dreams at night, her soul flies light Across the sky, across the ocean. What does it take to keep awake for hopes to soar, For dreams to roar?!
Just a moment of eternal courage and eyes to see the moral beauty not over the skin or below it but the one which reflects one's heart on sleeves and stars in eyes and stardust in character which leaves starry nightlight wherever it goes.
Writers look for words in everything they see, be it the sun, moon, flowers or ocean. Happiness, pain, sadness or emptiness. Their mind is eager to form constellations joining letters and filling the air between them.
Them? Writers, they are lovers. They fall for words, for kalon. And when they fall for other writers, two worlds interconnect, two souls interwind and words take them to a world of forevers they didn't know exists.
Love, it never comes alone. It brings along multiple feelings of every kind. It brings warmth and the cold. Love has power. It can fill certain voids and can create certain. How do I know this? Writers! It's their favourite topic. They say it's an abyss decorated with flowers and rainbows, but where the rainbow ends, there live monsters called aches. Love is an abyss they say, which has an end, breaks you.
Love is smart, yet so dumb. It chooses two imperfectly perfect people on the basis of beauty that is more than skin deep and collides their universes with each other. Sometime they grow side by side while sometimes it disrupts the whole system, toxifies the air and the vacuum. The stars align for a moment but soon they disperse to never feel closeness again. Writers say, "Pain brought us together, love ripped us apart."
Love, it comes in many forms, maybe 1mol. But writers, they spend infinite seconds, infinite letters to describe it. They represent it as a beautiful paradise, but you got to walk in with caution cause it's full of holes. The chances that you ever come our are low.
Writers, they are strong beings. So is love. They can withstand a thunderstorm, hurricane, cyclone maybe death too. But somewhere, someone, something has found a loophole and it breaks hearts, hence breaking writers, making a wreckage out of love. Fortune out of poetry.
The end of love, writers make it look beautiful so you won't step away from it, in real, it is a disaster, no word, no metaphor can define it fully.ᵉᵛᵉʳ.