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Her screen was full
And upon a Glance
She would see
photos
Notes
Videos
And Messages
All scraps of stories
Memories, loves, and wanders

And she would wonder
Was there ever more
Should there be more?
More to this
More to her

Or maybe
Just maybe
There was meant to be less
And looking for life through a screen
Was never meant to be
Tuesday Thoughts
Henryk Jun 2
Sometimes we lay there at night, talking for hours upon hours until the morning light.
You exist in head, my heart and my soul for free, one of life's late night mysteries.
Ali Hassan May 29
Three roads once lay before my eyes,
Beneath the sweep of silent skies.
The first was wide—a golden lane,
Where countless walked to dodge all pain.

It rang with laughs, with joy and cheer,
A life designed to mask all fear.
With rules to follow, dreams pre-made,
Where comfort kept the truth delayed.

The second glowed, but few would tread,
Where thinkers dwelled and logic led.
They questioned deep, they reasoned well,
But stayed within a guarded shell.

They built their truths with thought and care,
Yet never leapt beyond the air.
For all they saw, they feared the cost
Of seeking more, or being lost.

The third was cloaked in breath of shade,
A road where light and meaning fade.
No stars above, no voice, no guide—
Just silence stretched on either side.

It seemed I stood with choice in hand,
But deep inside, I’d never stand.
The first road smiled with soft deceit—
A velvet lie beneath my feet.

It offered peace, a gentle chain,
With dreams that dulled the edge of pain.
But in that ease, my fire grew thin—
A quiet death beneath the skin.

The second shone with sharpened grace,
But held me bound in one still place.
A cage of mind, of bright control,
That fed the brain, but starved the soul.

They lit the dark, but feared to leap,
So clung to truths they chose to keep.
They stood so close to something true,
But feared what change would make them do.

The third—it bled, it bit, it burned,
And showed me truths I’d never learned.
Each breath was torn, each step left scar—
A trail that broke but led me far.

No cheers ahead, no lights behind,
Just hollow winds and thoughts unkind.
Yet in the silence, sharp and clear,
I felt a voice the brave don’t hear.

It warned, “This road will lead to none.
It breaks the soul, it leaves you done.”
But pain revealed what fear had masked—
And so I walked, no questions asked.

No end in sight, no promised land,
Just storms that tore through where I stand.
Yet through the wreckage, fierce and true,
The shattered path was pulling through.

So let me fade, without a sound—
No song, no stone, no hallowed ground.
Though I vanish, lost and gone,
I walked the path that led me on.
pretzz Apr 17
From all the troubles.
Don't make them double.
Through all the pain,
Under this harsh rain.
Listened to "John Mayer - Carry Me Away" and felt inspired.
My head is empty,
I think there's a hole,
Because every time I fill it up,
It all seems to go.
Did my inspirations take a walk,
Is my talent wandering?
Where are my thoughts,
One empty head,
That's all I've got.
Blanks are all I'm drawing
raahii Feb 20
तलाश है खुद की, न जाने कहाँ गुम हो गया हूँ,
कभी जंगलों में, कभी पहाड़ों में फिर रहा हूँ।
हो मुलाकात किसी दिन, यही आस है मुझे,
बस इस उम्मीद में, दरबदर फिर रहा हूँ।
On a journey to find myself, I roam through forests and mountains,
Holding onto hope, wandering aimlessly, waiting for a destined reunion.
Wandering, searching for the wind,
An empty vessel, lost and adrift.
Steering toward a forgotten destination,
To a place that deals only in absolutes;
Where rain and storm dare not cloud our path.  

When we wake from the slumber of darkest nights,
There is glory in the redemption of dawn,
Rising anew to embark on a sacred descent,
As it crescendos in majestic golden hues,
Hypnotic, dissolving into the horizon
Àŧùl Jan 29
Ke tere hi khayaalon mein dil ye mera dhadakta raha,
Main teri hi chaahaton mein ab tak yoon bhatakta raha.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

That in your thoughts, this heart of mine kept pounding,
Desiring you, around the world until now I kept wandering.
My HP Poem #2043
©Atul Kaushal
Valentin Eni Jan 20
Wandering shadows drift upon my street,
They stop outside my door begin to speak:
Halum hecat.

They peer through glass as though they see my face,
They wave at me as if to call my name,
And with dry voices whisper through the space:
Nehim ruhat.

Perhaps I should be gripped by dreadful fear,
Hide in my bed beneath the blankets tight,
Scream out and wake, relieved to find it clear—
It was a dream, a fragment of the night.

But I feel no fear. Instead, I’m curious,
And like a dream, I slowly start to drift
Toward those shadows, whispering to us:
Sahat lehud.

A shiver runs through every vein and bone,
I press my palm against the icy pane,
And from the shadows, rising like a moan:
Khalim tahud.

I see a thousand shadows writhe in night,
They signal me, they press against the glass,
And from their whispers, delicate yet slight,
A single voice like balm begins to pass:
Tahil latham.

Perhaps a dying soul’s faint shadow calls,
Or one unborn, whose heart has yet to beat.
And something in me rises, breaking walls—
I answer in their tongue, obscure, discreet:
Tahat naham.

Then I dissolve into the misted pane,
I pass beyond into the frozen dark.
And I become a shadow lost, profane,
To roam the streets forever, without spark.

And I will softly cry:
Naum tahit.

And I will cry aloud:
Halum hecat.
These cold days,
Poetry is all I've got.
Where snow falls solemnly from looming clouds,
The only thing I surround myself with are words.
I miss the spring city,
Nothing could penetrate my armor of love.
For now that December has made it's descent, I am left in winter song,
Alas, for poetry, who's warm heart could melt the ice of sorrow.
Where will the fae dance tonight?
For reading poetry it makes my heart soar, and it makes my heart sore.
Snowflakes lace the winter grave of Autumn leaves,
And poetry, a silent goddess in the wind, has captured my tongue.
Where is the sun? In this winter's song,
For poems are the light in my dark.
Cold, the fingers that hold my pen,
Verse warms my soul.
Where am I? In this winter's song.
This is a mash-up of two unfinished poems. Let me know what you guys think. Have a great Wednesday everyone. :)
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