Petals soft as morning dew,
Embrace the sun, in colors true.
In the labyrinth of your dreams, paths wind,
Through forests deep and mountains climbed.
Echoes of laughter, tears that fall,
A symphony of life, embracing all.
Your heart beats in rhythms sweet,
A melody of joy and gentle retreat.
In your eyes, the stars ignite,
Guiding me through the darkest night.
Yours is the courage, bold and bright,
To chase the dawn, embrace the light.
In the tapestry of fate we weave,
Your spirit shines, steadfast and brave.
Oh yours, a beacon in the stormy seas,
About the Creator
Isra
Versatile writer skilled in both tale & stories. Captivate readers with engaging content & immersive narratives. Passionate about informing, inspiring, & entertaining through words.
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His Haibun
He does not like poetry; I write it anyway and do not tell him. It's true his face is not a poet's face. It is round and open, youthful; too apt to be compared to the sun. His nose is neat. It is impossible to imagine him smoking a cigarette, terse, full of cheekbones and tension. His warmth burns my fingertips. I am here for his fascinating body, the haphazard freckles I touch one by one; he is here for my eyes, just my eyes. A sunbeam sneaks through the curtains and pierces us both, sizzling the spices of his skin. I inhale and wrap myself in him. He kisses my eyes.
By TheSpinstress6 days ago in Poets
Timothy
My fingers inch closer to the keyboard, itching to obliterate a day's worth of work. It's some of my best writing I've done to date, but at what cost? The words seem to bleed, dripping onto my desk. For a millisecond, I'm sitting in front of a crime scene, looking at dead, begging eyes. Why? Why me?
By Alexandria Stanwyck7 days ago in Fiction
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