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  • cynicalbeliever 4w


    Beneath the armor of cynicism,
    Brusquely I hide a girl who places her trust
    Blindly in ungrateful people.
    By concealing her under a cavalier facade, I keep her
    Buried inside...for she is a romantic idealist,
    Believing that the sinking world will either
    Be rescued by benevolent spirits, or
    Build itself anew, into a
    Breathtaking, submerged atlantis.
    Bricks laid with unwavering faith...
    By all means call her a naive
    Bumpkin prone to flights of fancy, or just a

  • cynicalbeliever 4w

    #blue_missedopp @bluepuppy01
    #mirakee #nuance #writersbay #chaosc

    How many types of pains exist in the world?
    Under which category shall I put this one?

    The nagging pain one feels when
    the wraith like evocations of missed opportunities haunt you.
    How convenient would it be if you could simply pop a painkiller into your mouth and make the pain fade away.
    But this pain stays, nagging your mind and wreaking
    havoc and chaos in your life.
    It's quite a punctual pain.
    The moment your head hits the pillow at night,
    its there, waiting to wrap you in it's malefic shroud of perturbation and pandemonium.

    Then you start hunting for that one thing that you did right, that would make you feel worthy and liberate you from the clutches of your demons.
    Most nights you are unable to find it, bewildered and lost.
    On the rare few occasions that you do manage to free yourself and fall asleep, the next day you feel as though you just vanquished Napoleon and his troops.
    Something as banal as falling asleep becomes an arduous undertaking.

    So how do you heal. Where do you find that elusive panacea...

    You will find your panacea in the simple fact that life never stops giving you opportunities.
    If you keep wallowing in the abyss that is self pity, then you'll miss the myriad chances each day offers you.

    Each day scores of people meet their quietus.
    Each day countless bundles of joy are gifted.

    This is evidence enough that life goes on...

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    So what if you have missed
    opportunities in your past?
    Would you let them stop you?
    Look at the way obsidian nights
    are followed by scintillating days.
    How each year the frigid winter
    melts into a bountiful spring.
    Every dark phase hides
    Coruscating nuances of new beginnings.

  • cynicalbeliever 5w

    #mirakee #blue_pov @bluepuppy01
    (Thank you for this amazing prompt!)

    They say I am just a lifeless quill...

    Allow me to elucidate my veracious worth.

    I am the anchor she holds on to.
    When she is drowning in the deluge of ordeals and predicaments, I firmly bring her back to the comforting snow white pages of her journal.

    I am a literary beacon of luminous hope,
    In a world that seems to get darker day by day, where it is far too easy to go astray from one's home.

    I am a lone feather, so I can no longer fly as I used to.
    But as she holds me betwixt her fingers...incessantly, laboriously filling the void of the pristine pages, I
    take a different flight. The flight of the mind, which I conclude is unparalleled in its boundless beauty.

    In the end,
    I am just a humble quill.
    Am I?
    I am not JUST a quill...
    Lifeless I may be, without my own will,
    But I am not just a mundane quill.

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    A solitary quill

    I am an exanimate, solitary quill.
    But I have the potential to manifest,
    As per my writer's skill.


  • cynicalbeliever 5w

    Myriad hearts are broken each day,
    Myriad smiles die somewhere along the way.
    I ask the void, is there any hope for mankind?
    A voice whispers...
    The world is just as ugly or beautiful as you paint it in your mind.

  • cynicalbeliever 5w

    #yearnc @writersbay

    Do not yearn for what is gone,
    The morrow will always bring a new dawn.
    Do not wish for those who left to return,
    Life is teaching you to let go, and you must learn.

    We've all been to hell and back,
    The echoes of those times dark as pitch black.
    But you mustn't let dolour turn you bitter and vile,
    Instead, let your soul shine through a smile.
    In your inherent goodness you must trust,
    And never let your ability for kindness rust.
    A few gentle words can bring incomparable joy to someone,
    If you make them smile...then today, you have won.

    So, don't just sit and yearn,
    For your life to take a favourable turn.
    Life gives you ample opportunities each day, every time,
    To rebuild it into something wonderful and sublime.

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    Something wonderful


  • cynicalbeliever 6w

    Is it courage if it doesn't roar or bellow?

    Of course, it is!

    When you offer solace to a tormented mind, ignoring your own pain, undeniably....its courage.

    When you whisper encouraging words to an apprehensive heart...indubitably, it's courage.

    When you smile through the tears in your heart....hell yes, it's courage.

    When you refuse to turn fickle and fake just to be a crowd pleaser, and instead choose to stand tall with quiet dignity and lonely pride, then unequivocally, it's courage!


    #pod #creativec @writersbay @mirakee

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  • cynicalbeliever 6w

    #colour #iridescentc @mirakee @writersbay

    Once you lift the veil of despondence,
    And adorn your mind with the iridescent brilliance of faith and good cheer,
    You'll realize that though the times are dark... nature is still resplendent with its timeless beauty. A panacea to myriad afflictions and anxieties.

    Remember, the darker the world becomes, the brighter you must paint your thoughts. And what better place to purloin the shades you seek than the polychromatic oblate spheroid you inhabit.

    Oh, how does one begin to describe it's beauty....?
    The calming cerulean of a clear sky,
    The macaroon white of fluffy cumulus clouds that delights the child in us,
    The lush hues of viridescent vegitation after a recent rain,
    The rejuvenating golden tints of the faithful sunrise,
    And the fiery hues of the sun that refuses to sink quietly into the night...

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    An iridescent panacea

    I connect with all the countless
    Beauteous shades around me.
    Because I am a part of nature,
    And nature is a part of me.

  • cynicalbeliever 7w

    #chrysalisc @writersbay @writersnetwork @mirakee

    'Aristotle called the winged form of the butterfly "psyche"- the Greek word for soul. Many cultures relate butterflies to the human soul.'

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    She rested her head on the pillow,
    waiting for the lulling shroud
    of sleep to descend upon her eyelids.
    But how does one mollify
    her inconvenient heart,
    beating extra beats, always inclined
    to break free of the chrysalis
    of flesh and bones and
    metamorphose into a
    sublime psyche...


  • cynicalbeliever 7w

    Words are indeed one of the greatest conceptions of mankind. They can be dynamic, malleable and a perfect vessel for man's most taxing privilege - feelings.
    Choose them wisely and use them delicately.

    From fondly remembering joyful days...
    To accepting the here and now, even if it is etiolated and less savourable than the olden days.
    Do not shy away from sadness, for it must be expelled or it will fester.

    There is one place where sadness isn't seen as something displeasing, but poignant. It is where the words reside. Words will let your melancholy seep into them and gracefully form an arresting portrait.
    (Didn't Aristotle opine that tragedies are the finest...)

    They will offer solace and peace to your tempestuous soul in an elemental manner. Rather like the bird halcyon, calming the restless waves of the turbulent sea.

    @mirakee @writersbay #halcyonc

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    Dear God,
    I do not ask for a life without greys,
    Nor do I wish for the return of bygone, halcyon days.
    Just don't let the sombre shades paint my life
    For so long that I become colorblind and fail to see beyond the strife...
    Too exanimate to recognize happiness when it finally knocks on the door,
    Living as though each day was a sisyphean chore.

  • cynicalbeliever 7w

    #write @mirakee
    'Language is the instrument of thought'. So it stands to reason that the pen is the instrument of language.
    What makes me write...what makes words pour unfailingly from my fingers to this instrument?

    It's the gentle Gaea. When I let her verdant hues paint my thoughts, I find my safe haven between the words and the lines.

    So write.
    Write, till naiveté mellows into worldly wisdom,
    Write, till pretty lies are discarded and the terrible truth is accepted.

    Keep writing...
    Write till you're one with the gentle Gaea, tenebrous tensions giving way to dawning discoveries.
    Write, till your words thaw a frigid heart like a balmy spring zephyr.
    Write, till miasmic thoughts ebb to reveal poetic pearls.
    Write till words are woven into your bones and you become an evanescent ode to nature.

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    Gaean revelations

    I write not to please.
    I write to simply ease
    the banality away,
    from a telluric day.