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  • subhamrizal 3h

    "Will we walk hand in hand
    Across the street?" she asked me
    Hand in hand across all the avenues
    Of life and it's cruelest dunes
    Hand in hand through happiness
    And sorrow, and all the illness
    That will bestow upon you
    I shall love you like a madman
    This love can be handled only by a few
    I can see my self walking hand in hand
    With you for the eternity.
    All I shall ask you is to hold
    Me tight and feed me faith
    For this might never be told,
    That love isn't a smooth journey
    It'll throw you from the sky
    Drift you through the sea waves
    And if you hold me tight
    We shall still be hand in hand
    Till the last but the grateful breath.

    -Subham

  • subhamrizal 9h

    Today, materials hold happiness.
    Money is known as its seed,
    And the worst part is-
    Drugs too come in this category.
    There has been two types of happiness:
    One that is worst and other,
    the that is the best.
    Worst is often the one that lasts
    Before a tragic aftermath,
    Drugs, heist and fate can match it.
    The best is money, for many
    Sex, materials, for most.
    No boy, that's not true happiness.
    If you think it's money, than
    Your happiness is absurd.
    If it's drug, than
    You're not even close to it.
    Sex? No that's overrated.
    Let me tell you what it really is-
    You can relate to it,
    if you've stood on the top of the world,
    If you've been faster than an eagle.
    At least for 2 seconds.
    You can come near to it if you've seen death.
    Have you seen the sky painted with six colours ?
    You shall feel it in bones
    when your name stays immortal,
    Despite of the rotten body in the coffin.
    When you get most from love and least from tragedy.
    You can feel it in your bones
    when you reach the bounds,
    Of freedom and liberty
    Money is cheap, more cheaper instead.
    It's cheaper than fear.
    But true and best happiness is
    Twenty thousand times more expensive
    than the biggest mansion.
    It is higher than the flight given by a drug.
    It's more pleasurable than
    the best sex you ever had.
    It's so picky that it won't choose
    All from the crowd.
    Don't disguise your mediocre pleasure
    To ultimate happiness.
    That's a sin.

    -Subham

  • subhamrizal 2d

    @writersnetwork @miraquill #writersnetwork #miraquill
    #narcissist
    This poem is for the manipulators who leave no chance to destroy you.

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    Don't you try me
    For, my pen can damage more
    Than a dagger forged in fire can
    I can unleash your biggest fears
    I can break the lock of the casket
    Where you hide your failures
    I can mark and scribble your fate
    I can draw how you disguise the lies.
    For everything I do,
    Truth lends hand to me
    Never was I like you
    To borrow an arm from a lie
    I can bring back the tame clown
    In you, for it is someone you used to be.
    Don't you ever try me.
    I can pierce your soul so deep
    That your lies can never heal it
    I can throw your sanity
    from the edge of a cliff
    So down that you'll never find it.

    Subham

  • subhamrizal 3d

    @miraquill @writersnetwork #wod #song
    A hard rain's gonna fall by Bob dylan

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    where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
    And where have you been, my darling young one?
    I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains
    I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways
    I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests
    I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans
    I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard

    And what did you see, my darling young one
    I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
    I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it
    I saw a black branch with blood that kept dripping
    I saw a room full of men with their hammers bleeding
    I saw a white ladder all covered with water
    I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken
    I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children

    And what did you hear, my darling young one?
    I heard the sound of a thunder that roared out a warning
    Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
    Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were blazing
    Heard ten thousand whispering and nobody listening
    Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughing
    Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
    Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley

    Who did you meet, my darling young one?
    I met a young child beside a dead pony
    I met a white man who walked a black dog
    I met a young woman whose body was burning
    I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow
    I met one man who was wounded in love
    I met another man who was wounded with hatred


    And what'll you do now, my darling young one?
    I'm going back out before the rain starts falling
    I'll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest
    Where the people are many and their hands are all empty
    Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters
    Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison
    And the executioner's face is always well hidden
    Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten
    Where black is the color, where none is the number
    And I'll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it
    And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it
    Then I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinking

  • subhamrizal 5d

    For me, civilization is an orchestra playing a horrible music.
    -subhamrizal

  • subhamrizal 2w

    Living a poem

    Red love with grey past
    Painfully flipped to pleasure
    Aftermath which always remains a mystery
    Amorous voices and feathery cuddles
    That's all I can live for now
    And love is all I'll ever need
    Till the heaven you Take me
    Blooms no blossoms
    And the pheonix sprinkles her wings
    Just like salt on a salad
    And the heart freezes
    Like Poet's verse on an emotion.
    This is what we live, and
    It's all that-
    Dead poets painted it,
    For you.

    -Subham

  • subhamrizal 3w

    @writersnetwork @miraquill #writesnetwork #miraquill

    When you're not looking, somebody will sneak up and write "fuck you" right under your nose.
    - J.D SALINGER

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    A miserable backstabber

    How foolish can a man be
    To stab my iron back
    Knowing the haughty chest
    Under my proud chin.
    What are you afraid of ?

    Is it my murderous sight ?

    I have opened my arms
    Bring all your devilish
    Mind to rip my chest open
    What are you afraid of?

    Is it my spotless love for you?

    I'm pleased to invite you
    To sharpen your blade
    Under my spotlight.
    I shall guide you through it

    What are you afraid of?

    But I can't help you with
    Scarce gut in your Pungent heart.
    You're still the same old clown
    Known for your folly existence.

    Love can't take away the disease
    You could be great.
    What are you afraid of?

    -Subham

  • subhamrizal 4w

    Pillows in the arm

    They lay alone all day long
    On the ledge
    They carry a tired head,
    Full of exhaustion,
    Disappointment,
    Dreams,
    Hopes.
    And they get tied
    In the arms,
    With heart full of love
    And hopes and dreams
    They're never lonely,
    The arms they never get tired
    They're never loney
    Unless the heart of love
    Turns cold as winter.

    -Subham

  • subhamrizal 6w

    @writersnetwork @miraquill @soulfulstirrings #writersnetwork #miraquill
    #metaphor #love

    I penned this wondering about the 'almost forgotten' past pointing out the possibility..

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    A rose that was too anxious to have petals

    The sun peeped and went hundreds of times
    The summer cuddled and left twice
    And now it's winter,
    Cold frosty and dry
    Some leaves couldn't stand the cold
    So they fell.
    Luckily, I'm still alive
    Here, where everything broke
    Wafting back to the almost forgotten past
    Looking at the places, The clouds,
    And you and me.
    How Foolish I was,
    To not water a growing rose
    It could bloom like every other blossom
    Maybe because it could break like
    Every other stem.
    But it could bloom.
    And that's what makes Love foolish.

    -Subham

  • subhamrizal 6w

    4:45 in the evening of early December
    "Nothinman" playing on the mobile
    Cigeratte on the other hand
    The blanket of clouds
    Pink, lilac, gray and
    Golden
    Wafting with the breeze
    While Making a display
    The town getting aware
    Of the darkness
    Bulbs lit accross a line
    And the birds hover
    Back to the attic
    So now kicks the dusk
    The most serene part of the day
    And I wish you were here.
    Besides me

    Meanwhile I go for bombing the next cigeratte.
    -Subham