Death, Freehand Writing, Imagine, Life, Love, Poetry, Prose

He would be back

broken frame,
glass on the floor,
a letter unopened,
tears echoed,
for someone,
who said he would be back,
to read the night stories,
to play the games,
to take all camp side,
one sunny day,
But that day he became,
part of earth,
with clouds of tears,
thunders of disgust,
they all ask how it happened,
she now says proudly,
killed in action.

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Death, Help, Imagine, Prose, Random thoughts, Writings

Within

7_dark-room

Within me,
lies an irresistible urge,
a dark one indeed,
that would not fathom beauty,
nor the brave,
that consumes darkness,
that needs slaves,
that is biased,
that is superstitious,
that tells me things,
that makes me see void taking shapes,
it isn’t scary,
no it isn’t indeed,
when I showed,
the world where I lived,
it has been down there since,
cornered in the heart,
it refuses to come, even after it’s dark.

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Tell me

Tell me why all things that start,
cease to exist as they were,
whether good or bad were the purposes,
meaningful or meaningless they were,

Tell me there is a reason,
for why I see the end?
not far away,not close,
ghosting itself in.

Tell me that I am wrong,
that the end would not be bright,
like dark shadows that hover around,
and scare me with their sight.

Tell me it’s all a dream,
and it would break someday,
and I would be happy for what I want,
someday but not today.

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fiction and poetry, fiction&writing, Freehand Writing, Haunting, Nostalgia, Poems, Poetry, Random thoughts

The Mist and Me

The Mist is all I could see
Strange it may see,it seems on a killing spree
Thick white disappearing with no ends,
cold,unfriendly like omen,
they say it takes you and gives an easy death,
without pain and sorrow,without regret,
I died a long ago but still have the pain,
Me and mist are friends now,unseperable we disappear.

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