• Missing new small koushiki_simmi 10h

    Rain in her eyes

    The clouds rumbled and rustled
    As a drop of rain fell on her stretched out palm
    Out of the window, as it trickled down
    Followed by increasing drops to a heavy downpour
    All in her little palm
    As she smelled the rain
    The petrichored atmosphere
    Her hair being played on by the breeze
    As she could see the trees waving at her
    Mudpools here and there
    The clouds as they float,
    Leaving off their weight
    Pattens of lightning, dressing up the sky
    All with her soul she could see
    What if she had eyes?

  • 7329fc17b106408ddf97cb4074b499db dikshita_13 10h

    May be I am weak!

    May be my voice is too fragile to be noticed during these obnoxious times;
    May be my hunger is too insignificant to be taken away during the grave losses ;
    May be the worth of my existence is too minimal to be mourned by the society ;
    May be our cries of pain are too weak to be left unheard and unseen;
    But are we not worth living?

    May be our drudgery is not adequate for one to be acknowledged ;
    May be living without wages is not a thing to get perceived by many;
    May be everyone thinks we are entitled to special immune power making us resistant to diseases;
    May be our mothers are destined to mourn for death due to starvation;
    But are we not worth living?

    -Voice of the child of a worker

  • 0aba62dee7da073a8b0f1bd09734ce9a rani_shri 10h

    Sometimes i am totally unable
    To sleep all the night.
    With myself, at that time,
    I,then, have a fight.

    Whenever you come,
    You only bring tears.
    With some horrifying darkness,
    You push me into fears.

    Sometimes you come without stars
    Sometimes you come without moon.
    In Summers you come late,
    And in winters you come soon.

    You always bring nightmares
    That not let me sleep.
    I get lost in a melancholy
    And that too very deep.

    For my exams and urgencies
    I have to wake-up the whole night
    And whenever i feel alone,
    I find there no one to hug me tight.

    Sometimes I think of my lost beloved
    And cry in the love caused pain.
    And my tears fall on me like
    A without weather rain.

    Thousands of thoughts
    There, run in my mind.
    And bad memories of my life,
    Then touch me like the wind.

    Sometimes it gets very harder
    For someone to wait.
    And at that time
    You also pass very late.

    I can't go for parties
    Nor i can hangout.
    I can't chill that time
    Neither with someone nor without.

    In my childhood,Due to my fever,
    My mom woke up the whole night.
    Now you tell me ,after these all
    Ain't I right?

    To be continued...

    Read More

    A Talk With My Night...

    Part 2
    Read the caption.

  • 7f3f7558ab81d25d1d5262d5843e6b39 regenbogen 10h

    Blue Flame

    After a queue of dead bodies
    You are laying still on the unearthed ground
    Waiting for your breath to seize your soul
    You have to wait longer, you are bound
    Bound in the claws of duty
    Chained in the shackles of fate
    Happiness seems meaningless now
    Everything has blended into love & hate
    Love of lava that burnt your peace
    Hate from hell still grilling your mind
    Tears of guilt are streaming down your eyes
    You let your soul repent and grind
    An untouched wind probably greeted your wounds
    The cloud is ready to sacrifice it's last rain for you
    Destruction is in destiny's hands
    You can't get spring in winter's dew .
    A world without canvas of truth
    A world sewed with the threads of lies
    A world smeared with the bloods of dead flowers
    Cannot give birth to butterflies
    Let the storm come tonight
    Lust ,desire & pride will come to choke you
    Those long lost widows from the battlefields will gather tonight
    & their tears will soak you
    Soak in the water of desperation
    Your conscience will struggle to bear the shame
    And lastly you will lay still again
    Letting your soul burn in the blue flame


  • 5d0bdd26013ca0b294dfe6df0370988e irene_chid 11h

    The rain is here again

    The rain is here again
    Days of dark blue skies and muddy floors
    Days of thunder and lightening
    Days of umbrellas and raincoats
    Running under a bridge to keep dry
    Yet little droplets kiss you wet
    Little children dancing in abandon
    Adults screaming for caution
    Traders hurrying to shade their goods
    Passengers rushing to get a bus
    The rain is here again
    The ground has been dry for long
    We missed the rain
    That sandy pleasant smell
    The coldness beneath our feet
    The excitement it brings sometimes
    We missed the rain
    One other beautiful part of nature


  • C74778642b698c31b5bb35f68110987c dipanshu_tanwar 16h

    I've always loved the moon,
    the giant white pearl shining bright amongst millions of stars,
    but i think moon is just like any innocent human soul which is broken, but still shining, smiling like everything's okay
    unlike the earth it has no atmosphere and let's everyone visit but is also vulnerable to meteroids, solar storms
    just like how a soul on earth who trusts everyone and is vulnerable to people who use them
    the craters it has are it's scars but those scars doesn't let it's beauty fade away, people still admire the moon regardless
    just like that soul with scars, broken but still beautiful
    moon has phases, on some days it doesn't appears in the night sky, and then slowly from crescent to full it gets back
    and like this a soul when completely broken down, isolates itself, alone, but slowly heals and get back again to this world
    there's a dark side to the moon it doesn't shows us, no one has been there
    and so has the soul, the dark side keeping all the secrets from the world

    Writers LIE.

    Read More


  • Aba50edb16d2a3ed830a04cfa579e112 autumnbreeze 17h

    Summoned under all the
    tackling chaos of aliveness.
    I find myself amidst
    a land of retaining.
    Where lies a river
    that withers wallowing.
    The lucid water scatter
    drops of satisfaction all over.
    Oblivion beams of grief
    volatile the birms.
    Each night, the river croon
    to the forgiving moon.
    Brisk halo of validation
    allow shallow passage of vain.
    In the morning, the river
    strangle for a new aspiration.
    Clenched weeps of hopelessness
    recite a tale of reincarnation.
    Away from the fable land,
    I sit and mourn.
    Resembling the same dried cries
    shattered by the river.
    Chanting a name,
    sighting for empathy alike the mystical moon.

    #poetrycommunity, #poetry, #poem, #writing, #writingishealing, #healing, #sustaining, #holdingby, #loneliness, #remedy, #wither, #wallow, #potd, #poemoftheday, #mirakeecommunity, #mirakeepoetry, #mirakeepoem, #mirakee, #writersnetwork, #pod

    @mirakee @writersnetwork @senden_k @soulfulstirrings @_kabir

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    Oblivion beams of grief
    volatile the birms.

  • Bf3c4470d741c4d6183d9fbed0d576dd divulgingenigma 16h


    If I won't be there for you

    See the silhouettes of mine
    in those little orphanage faces
    who might have shelter
    but a wide reluctant life's paces

    draw the sketches of mine
    with your words for they know
    the glitter of the dawn I crave for
    in the nights which turns slow

    If you won't be there for me

    I would be folding papers
    and etching you everytime
    kissing thy bare sore voids
    and making you so prime

    I would be closing the book
    everyday just to write a new
    for your deep eyes & intense light
    I can write many not only few

    If I won't be there for you

    Run to the river nearby your home
    ask the breezes what they feel
    they'll come & caress your thick hairs
    just to hold the love in zeal

    In the moonlit see the stars
    but on the canvas of your eyes
    paint me as the night so far
    just to absorb how time flies

    If you won't be there for me

    I would be running in the lanes
    of sleep to fetch you in dreams
    Or In the deep eyes of metaphors
    where your love would scream

    May be behind the greys of life but
    in the echo of your bursting laughter
    Around the fragrance of your soul
    & in the rain of tiredness thereafter

    If I won't be there for you

    Don't search me in the daylight
    I'll be there deep in the core of heart
    scared to loose you yet so lost
    in the middle of pages of your ink's art

    I'll be there when you'll be restless
    in the reluctant days with no reasons
    I'll be there to throw a series of lectures
    in your autumns,rain & in any season


    Read More

    I'll be there in you,
    Often in dark so
    keep the windows open


  • Missing new small alivingsecret 1d

    I feel the weight of Flowerpots
    Being thrown upon the heart
    Unable to believe,I blink twice
    Perphas twas you from the start
    Back where I was ,
    The steps, all lead black
    scarcely any peace
    devoid of all that one feels

    I feel the weight of flowerpots
    But visions must be seen
    On the wall there is a mirror
    It spews fluid in a dream
    Alas the pain ripples back
    Baltering demons on crack
    Staring high you drown beneath
    the stifling screams
    dare to breathe

    Stacking blues ,dangling shoes
    What I'd give to give up
    Rattling truths ,dashing boots
    Reminded to beam up

    And as I hang on to the flower pot
    I beg ,dont turn back
    You're another empty rascal
    I've lost too many to keep count
    Vines cover the scars
    Thorns pinch the facade
    With a flower pot on the back
    All screams are just an act...

  • Missing new small nasreen 1d

    As the wintry snow shelters the brown soil,
    My heart yearns for my lost home,
    But how can I call it lost...
    When I didn't have a home to start with?

    And days later, as the cold air nicks at my skin,
    I wonder how it would feel...
    To have a warm smile on my face,
    Just like that little girl I had seen...

    Yet, I wouldn't understand, because all I have now...
    Is nothing but the cold air picking at my skin

    However, don't you think it's ironic?
    That here I am,
    Trying to stay alive with nothing but a rotten bread,
    Yet, the kids, over the sweet baker's shop... throwing a fit over what to eat...

    But despite everything, at the end of the day,
    I'm not bitter nor angry,
    And all I pray and hope for, with my very last breath,
    Is to not let another child sit homeless,
    In this dirtied sidewalk,
    When I leave...

    And soon the nights turn to days,
    The fresh snow starts to fall...
    While there's a new child on the same sidewalk,
    With the same look of mystery,
    As she looks at the pretty baker's shop...
    ~ Story of Homeless Children ~

    #wod #homeless #blue #winter #bakery #sad @mirakee @writersnetwork

    Read More

    I wonder how it would feel...
    To have a warm smile on my face,
    Just like that little girl I had seen...