The sun, a painter bold and bright, Across the canvas, dawn ignites. A single teardrop, heaven-sent, Descends on earth, its purpose lent.
By Moharif Yulianto9 days ago in Poets
It is the evening twilight of the lived years, as autumn's eventide beckons and calls A time when wild passions no longer flow in oceans of longing and youthful exuberance
By Novel Allen9 days ago in Poets
The stake of existence in its tale binds the beauty of the true, The theft of commodification of invaded privacy hid the Bane of silence under its sinew
By Hridya Sharma9 days ago in Poets
"Mark you," sayeth he, "At Ayelsford's bloody battle, Flesh and bone feathered cruelly with arrows sharp, My voice cried out loudly to long absent Fortune,
By John Cox10 days ago in Poets
In morning’s hush, your breath I find, A fusion rich, a scent combined. Of coffee dark and smoke entwined, A gothic charm, so well designed.
By chaimaa alidrissi12 days ago in Poets
Not just a grain, but a story untold, The flavor of wheat, a warmth to behold. From golden fields, beneath the summer sun,
By Moharif Yulianto12 days ago in Poets
Not passion's fire, nor lust's consuming flame, But love's pure essence, whispering a name. Not stained by conflict, nor jealousy's sting,
In whispered coos of cocoa sighs, Love's fragrance fills the air, it lies Not just in roses, soft and pink, But in the depth of darkest drink.
The air hangs heavy, thick with unspoken desire, A summer's eve, where passions set hearts afire. Love, a mischievous sprite, flutters on the breeze,
Love, oh Love, a fickle friend, One moment close, the next pretend. With playful jabs and whispered taunts, You dance a jig, behind love's fonts.
In twilight's hush, a secret glance, A spark ignites, a stolen chance. Your laughter rings, a siren's call, Beckoning me, enthralling all.
The world spins on, a careless blur, While I stand still, a heart unsure. A hole is ripped, a gaping wound, Where laughter danced, and love was found.