Never giving away any desire of fading away with the dusk, and coming back as the break of dawn.

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  • we_are_not_beautiful 20w

    Specks of cosmo
    They adorn me with posies

    With the seas in my veins
    I swallow pearls to coruscate like the Moon

    I fade with a dolour, wounded with words
    I slumber in the womb of welkin

    With a touch of lexicon
    I turn into a barque of bards
    Sailing with the winds of gloaming
    Towards a tranquil cacophony of paeans


  • we_are_not_beautiful 21w

    I'm in love with you and
    Words remain in the air
    Words remain on the tip of my tongue

    Smell of warmth remains in the air
    Smell of love remains in the air

    You remain in the air I breathe
    You remain in the flowers I breathe

    You're the air
    And I breathe into you
    Like I breathe into flowers

    @writersnetwork @miraquill
    #wod #pod #epistrophe

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    We sway
    To the music in the air
    We live
    To the love in the air


  • we_are_not_beautiful 21w

    I'm watching the gray clouds overpower the enormous sky, and all I can think is that, the world is beautiful with all its gloominess. If it wasn't for the gray clouds, I wouldn't have wondered about the world, and contemplated my life.
    With a sad surrounding comes sad thoughts, and the world has always been sad, all the dead poets were sad and so are we while living, breathing and writing.
    I deeply breath in the brumal winds that hit my skin, and the winds hit my fragile heart, making me a fierce poet with mindless miseries and metaphors.
    I have always questioned a writer's obsession with nature and the world, a writer always in an existential crisis, a writer so ordinary yet distinguishable, a writer with a heart beating like no other, a writer who is friends with many mortals and yet questioning morality, a writer who is unknown to himself, a writer ignorant of his own self.
    The hours before I write or rather lament, I think of the time when I first fell in love with a boy- who was miles away from me- and I feel myself smiling and I also feel my heart weeping blood. And my momentary relaxation gets crushed by the realisation of how much of a fool I was for falling for someone so unreachable. From then on, I keep telling myself- that when we fall for someone, we should fall for someone who is reachable and someone who reciprocates.
    I will always get hurt though, I will meet people who are unreachable, and I will have to be with them. I will meet people who don't reciprocate, but I will have to keep expressing and giving, hoping they will hear my internal shrieks.
    But, I assume, that's how people and life work- screaming internally hoping for someone or the Gods to hear their cries, reaching their hands out in the darkness hoping that someone will hold on.
    The hours after I write, I feel as if sharp and long claws of an animal are ripping my heart apart, and my soul- my poor and alabaster soul- sits in the corner, cowering away from the havoc, thinking the animal is no one but my fading love and a stained childhood.

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    I have so much to say
    Or rather lament
    But the day is dying
    And so am I

  • we_are_not_beautiful 21w

    @writersnetwork @miraquill
    #wod #pod

    Hello beautiful people, how are you all doing?

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    My eyes
    With fog
    Cannot express my love for you
    For they are tongue tied

    My heart
    With beatings
    Cannot shatter into pieces
    For it is a bleeding wound

    My poems
    With mindless miseries
    Cannot be sung
    For they are weeping


  • we_are_not_beautiful 26w

    #wod #pod #poem
    @writersnetwork @miraquill

    She is the muses that you are afraid to write.

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    In her sylvan heart
    She harbored
    The unknown fears
    That surrounded her

    She is a melange of
    Dried leaves and cluster of flowers

    She paeaned to the clouds
    And talked to the demure ocean
    About her
    Scattered sentiments

    She is dried blood of verses
    Under the nails, after a war of poems

    She levitated
    On her way to the
    Mystique dreams
    When the fatal sleep consumed her

    She is phases of the moon
    And twinkle of a prominent star

    She closed her eyes
    To stop the tears of midnight
    And salted
    The wounds of her words

    She is an euphonious melody
    And an addictive song

    She let her eyes bled melancholy
    And lacerated the walls
    She built around herself
    And breathed air of destruction

    She is labyrinth in a hazy head
    And obscure routes of thoughts


  • we_are_not_beautiful 26w

    #pod #wod #prose #poem #muse #quote #random
    @writersnetwork @miraquill


    The words give me life,
    To laugh at death.

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    Death laughs, confusedly.
    Everytime when,
    I write to live.


  • we_are_not_beautiful 26w

    #readwriteunite #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #mirakeeword #random #thoughts #poem #quote #rwu #read #write #words #pod #wod #prose
    @writersnetwork @miraquill
    @writersnetwork thank you for the <3
    Thank you for the Editor's choice <3
    Thank you @miraquill for the <3

    The decayed
    Bones of my poems
    Bloom with
    The touch of your heart 

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    My poems
    May flourish
    Your decayed heart


  • we_are_not_beautiful 26w

    I felt it in the pit of my stomach, I felt it crawling under my skin, and I felt it in my heart, when you left without a word. Was it because I don't deserve your last words, or was it because you were coming down from your high of being so happy that you forgot a sad girl like me, or was it because you were simply happy to get away from me.
    There are many questions, swirling and swaying at the back of my head, and I know my heart, my poor and stupid heart won't be able to take your answers, because my heart would like to live in a house of no affairs, afflictions and affections. But there was something in the cold air, as if the small and suffocative room was screaming at me to stop you for few seconds, and ask you to stay for awhile, until my heart would feel brave enough to let you go.
    I can also remember, how you lingered in the room, just for few seconds, it was as if you were waiting for me to say something, but you and I both know, how I cannot amount to words, how I cannot speak words, but my pen can.
    And in that few seconds, I also felt the hurricane, thunder and butterflies in my stomach, I thought that something tragic was going to happen, I thought the ends of our different worlds would meet, and would make us a whole new different world.
    But you left without a word, and what is the world without words?

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    What you and I are without words?
    Just mere corpses of dead tragedies,
    fading poems,
    crooked arts and
    broken hearts.

  • we_are_not_beautiful 27w

    I found you
    In a flagrant alleyway
    Where the constellations
    In your strawberry scented elflock
    Sway to the sound of starts colliding

    You carried a forlorn bliss
    On your shoulders
    Like a backpack of flustered nostalgia
    And once in a blue moon
    You unpack and rummage
    Through your flooded bag of yearnings
    And I always drench in
    Somber waters of your epiphany

    Many a times
    I took you to
    A brazen land of zeal
    Where the stories of past in your eyes
    Unfolded with gleaming poems

    For you,
    I camouflaged into nights of uthceare
    And rose back as mornings of weak kisses
    To soothe
    The laments you puked
    After consuming fulsome silence

    #wod #prose #poem #pod

    @writersnetwork @miraquill


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    You wanted to scream your sorrows
    In a void, so I became a void

    You wanted to bury your dying desires
    In a graveyard, so I became a graveyard

    You wanted the crimson sky to bleed poems for you,
    So I became the sky

    You wanted the world, so I became the world


  • we_are_not_beautiful 27w

    I gulped the night and
    Chewed your fragrance
    And let out a celestial breath
    To warm you from within

    Under the skin of the stars
    I rested my head on your bosom
    And caressed your fierce delicacy
    With a feather of peacock

    Your oceanic mourning
    And blue moaning
    Pierced my lips
    With your wintry sirens
    Now my body only sings
    Hymn of your serenity

    I shoved aside the heavy clouds in your eyes
    And undressed the crimson sky of emotions in them
    Only to see
    Cascades of warped memories

    You led me up the stairs of heaven
    And bewitched my ponderous thoughts
    You weakened the awaken desires
    And put fire to the temptations

    I clutched you
    Where your  heart burns
    And you stitched
    The broken pieces of me
    With your fingers
    As sharp as the needles
    And your touch like threads of hues