People searched for these myths all mornings because It is said that when the sunsets It leaves you blind for the rest of the nights.
I would never believe the myths said by Those faded souls but I would admire them . The myths were beautiful to listen.
There were a few , So let me tell you the ones I remember.
Long ago , When the grass was sweet , It was said that The sun dies and leaves to heal it's burns. The sun was caught wailing it's heart out when it tried to mend it's wound And it was caught by the Fallen angel that stumbled upon The blinding lights of its pain .
Somewhere far from there , Where the grass was snow It was said that The sun sleeps when it returns To its warm ' home ' Before waking the other few who Waited for the light to shine through the soft fabric hung On the windows .
Another time When poetry was born , It was said that the sun was in love Because it died every night To watch the moon glimmer , Hiding under the fading clouds Just to catch a glance of it .
And last one When the poet and poetess were remembered, It is said that the sun leaves each time To shine on your better half That waits for the moon to meet you The moon and Sun would meet on both behalves .
When she came back After almost losing herself completely. But some of her self remained Because she had to lose a part of her To save her from fading .
The whispers and murmurs grew Hitting her new ears . If it was the 'old' her , She would've been broken before they spoke . But the 'old' her didn't return this time So instead, She kept walking with those cold eyes And warm heart That thawed from the Ice memories that froze there .
She knew That People can only talk And assume To cover their cluelessness About what happened. They could talk and judge But are too lazy to find out the truth Afraid they have to help .
What she learned from The moonlit nights Was that Nobody gets to tell you That you changed , When they weren't beside you When you struggled to stay the same .
The boy who built a wall , Not with bricks . But with thoughts . Deep and empty thoughts . That no one but he know . These thoughts flew Some around the empty heart And some around the strange mind He spends all his time with .
He built the wall as to escape the advices Given by mysterious beings That appear whenever He does anything. Those whom we call People . How easily they would say " You can't do it " Or " you're too weak " Without once thinking about What his wee heart would feel Once it shatters like glass That was once fixed and yet broken again.
He stayed behind the wall And glanced at his shattered Pieces of the heart that broke Everytime some thoughts Replayed the past , As if a memory that never left But kept bidding goodbyes .
He used to write them , But the inked started to fade And appeared in his dreams Making it a nightmare Everytime. That's why he's so scared to Close his eyes at dark And keeps staring until The moon goes away .
For them it was a memory forgotten , But for him Everytime he feels the breeze That reaches his insides Through the cracks It all comes back As if a memory he clinged onto As if it was his last .
No one . Not a single butterfly that flew came back . They had their pretty wings and they flew a long journey . Forgetting the beautiful yet hurting memories they made . This little beauty was stripped of its own wings And somehow forced to live . No memory mattered No tears dried , Well that was it . The story of the butterfly that was forced to forget how to fly .
Maybe , Just maybe i can too see those lights lit up Not in the sky but on the ground Around me . Thought it is a hopeless dream That I still can't bring myself to ink . Afraid it will be crumbled like every other dream I ever dreamt of . Perhaps I got used to the crumbled papers comforting them in the corner of my memories . I never open them . Neither do I want to burn them . The ashes will haunt me every time I will dream. And those unknown pieces that I put together , Will too slowly start to fall before it was even finished.
I go through the old Dusty room . This room was forgotten , Intentionally. I threw the keys In the deep ocean of My thoughts. But today I swam through Those crushed paper like Thoughts that never stopped. That one memory Of these keys jingling In my hand . I finally found it And I opened the long forgotten space . There wasn't much in this place. Just some faded Polaroids And some torn pages Of poems that I wrote Along with some Canvas with the strokes of my agony That I painted as to forget. One huge box lies in the corner That too covered with dust As a blanket to keep it warm. Opening it , I couldn't help but be underwhelmed. There was just one Polaroid inside. Why wasn't this with the others ? That one Polaroid was half burnt Almost on a verge to become ashes. As if I wanted to forget this memory But then I changed my mind. Just a usual scenary laid on this Picture and gave a nostalgic sense. Unknown yet felt it wanted to show me The whole view . But couldn't. This almost burnt Polaroid gave A feeling of those forgotten And faded pictures .
The streets were almost empty , And even if it was crowded I'd never felt any different . But it was quiet When no one was around . And with no voices covering my sight I could faintly hear the breeze Telling me enjoy the view That I never got to see . The beige sign boards Old yet doing thier work , Helping the lost and so .
The glass of that cafe I never visited Was calling me to see through the glass , I thought was opaque . But it was just a faded mirror Showing me the eyes I never got to meet. Those doe eyes simply staring back Just as mine .
The smell of the coffee that I never liked , Was somehow now good . A change could never hurt Or could it ?
With a heavy heart My steps drag me until The bells rings above the door . Still hesitant , I walk up to the counter . Ordering the first thing on the menu And quietly searching for a peaceful Place . But the whole place was serene And empty . That's what made it peaceful for me .
Sitting by the window , Staring at myself again I wait for a cup to arrive . The street was still empty And alone Almost like me , In need of a change But the street is better this way Empty or crowded , Old or new I would choose the old and empty one . Always .
My cold hands touch the cup of hot coffee That reached me before my thoughts stopped . The warmth was welcoming And even the states I was getting were , As if they would welcome me too .
Sipping quietly not to disturb any ears In this quiet atmosphere we were in . I close my eyes as the taste seems unfamiliar And yet enveloped my sense around it .
Finishing the coffe with a soft smile I keep the cup gently down on the table And stare at street that was now Standing still between some feet Moving here and there.
Quite chatters flowing along the breeze And some fallen leaves being crushed Wasn't that bad to hear to . The steps stoping and moving again Faces covered in scarfs . Wasn't that unpleasant to see . The cold breeze embracing me from afar And the a thin faded glass separating me from it Wasn't that harming to feel .
A little change doesn't hurt , Indeed it doesn't Until you make that little change .
Little things change , Little things help change too .
The rain left me yearning And every cloud abandoned me . They left me in a hope that I would be okay . But in the reality I wasn't Even being without people Around, I never felt alone And now that I'm without these unknown serenes . I was nothing but lonely .
I stay under the shower Under the promise That broke like Teardrops falling from Above . In the belief that My misery will be hidden under this unfamiliar rain That didn't fall from The clouds I used to remember When the sky was alone Just like me .
My tears don't fall Neither do they pour . Guess even my tears Don't want anything other than that warmth that the cold rain gave . They keep brimming in my eyes And yet so stubborn Not to be consoled by any But those soft whites That they thought would Soak these drops And pour them back down As a comfort of my own .
Basic shades of RED are 20 / & Coz Red is m y favorite color /
Thank you for EC ❤️ Thank you so much for the read and love everyone. I love you all here ❤️ Thank you so much for Repost ❤️ @writersnetwork 3rd Hattrick !! Red POD ! Whoa ❤️ I love this the most Thank you so much @miraquill & everyone who loved this ! __________________________________________________________
The realistic portrayal of youth in all its facts. The beauty in everyday life during a time when we’re young and bold. The realistic portrayal of the pains of growing up. The subtle and innocent romance. The friendship between the classmates The relationship between teacher and students, as well as the relationship between the youths and their parents. The step by step visit to the last year in High School.
Look for a lie Love to die Emotions are dead Force me to cry Here is my heart Go break it again I wrote it my Own death Just wanna feel your touch Craving shy Under the moon NIGHTMARE wish to say "hii" It's hard to say good bye Serene sometimes hushed Song in my mind Autumn is here Wind playing the games Untill winter's call them They leaping and dancing Waiting for a change Pristine moon test you Shatter dream with silent Silvery moon Meet me soon Seasons are changing Nightmare miss you Wish to say hii !! Again Wish to say hii !!
I saw us from the sun's point of view and we looked terrifically dark and dead. perhaps, my eyes are the sun and my soul is the world perfectly doomed, bereft of exhilaration and light. the demon of darkness that came last year heisted every ounce of radiance from me. it never stopped marking it's domain it never will. it enters every organ, every vein like a snake slithering back in it's burrow. the darkness has made my heart it's home. where it dances like TERPSICHOR who owns the entire place. there are times when it hides behind the shaggy, teeming bushes of my soul but when it senses my adaption to peace and brightness, it creeps to the surface with a surfeit of pain. PAIN. I know I need help to summon it, to quash it, to bleed it out in perpetuity. but I'm scared of the price that comes with HELP. the truth is , i've given up a long time ago, i've fallen to my knees before it. that's what darkness do to us, it crawls in secretively - it resides in your heart - it takes a hold of your soul - it kills every iota of hope inside you without any mercy- it creates a permanent void and then... it makes you its dead puppet. and you know what , maybe, i'm the darkness.