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  • dew_drops 2w

    The reds, the blues and those vibrant hues
    A tint of yellow, a of blotch lilacs
    and charcoal blew
    Together paint my ivory statue
    The pious comes, step off their shoe
    They flip the coin to permit to sue

    They bow their frons, at my temple's foyer
    The only worshipers who are sinful saints
    Let themselves in without tinge of strain
    Hereby, I the blasphemous marionette
    Crafted with forbidden traits, tied with sinful strings

    I twirl in a wondrous spin, in a vivid gown
    Embellished with blackened mirrors
    That let the rays of your wild eyes
    But reflect you the aspired, inducing smiles
    I dance for you and you entitle it my will

    I live, inside you, in your ashed spirits
    I splash my gown, in empty blooded hearts
    The light that trace you to the heavens
    I sway, at its virtual origins
    Every color that is to fade, I present you my deceptive desire, you paint it without a clue

    I'm not a born prostitute neither are
    You my intrinsic acolyte, I am a free-bird
    With air of freedom I want to breath, it's you who trap me in your idealistic, exorbitant cage
    It's then when I remain trapped but become the master, I cavort for you but you're the slave

    @carolyns_challenges
    #cees_artlife_chall

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    The Dancer

    It's then when I remain
    trapped but
    become the master,
    I cavort for you but you're
    the slave

    ©dew_drops

  • dew_drops 3w

    With a clink the carboy fell
    The corrosive black ink seeped through
    The vaguely, printed, vintage paper
    It traced the lined pathway
    Smearing the dullness of the paper_meaningfully
    A tear fell, into the pool of leaden abyss
    With an enormous blow and stifle smoke
    I came into existence_the wild fire
    The ember of love ablazes the coal-black dark
    I'm not an ember, I'm fire of passion
    That flares with atrocious intensity
    I either gleam through your soul
    To turn you into crystal, white, withered ashes
    That die for once but live forever
    Or I'm the holy saint hell fire
    When you glint with grace, I cling to your
    aesthetic gown and return you
    your dues, that you never wanted around
    Brightest I ignite when the crestfallen hearts
    Mourn for the mercy of hope
    But it's intriguing when, I ablaze without permit
    It's you who unknowingly carry me inside
    With staleness of gloom and extinguishing tears
    I still flicker in your words that you scribble
    In those vehement letters that you
    Burn in the memories of those who left you

    #cees_fire_chall @carolyns_challenges
    @writersnetwork @writerstolli @mirakee @mirakeeworld

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    FIRE

    ...But it's intriguing when,
    I ablaze without permit
    It's you who unknowingly
    carry me inside
    With staleness of gloom
    and extinguishing tears
    I still flicker in your words
    that you scribble
    In those vehement letters
    that you burn in the
    memories of
    those who left you
    ©dew_drops

  • dew_drops 10w

    The azure crescent with colorful sparks
    The beauty she carries within her scars
    Those benevolent mosaics and crafts
    Fill their creaks with flow of her dreams
    With every stroke she spills her artistry
    Still she holds the canvas,
    closer than her bloodstream
    She knows that she's incarcerated, deliberately
    She is bound to slavery, when she begs liberty
    That every step she dares to take
    The clink of anklets become the spy
    Her silhouette, conspires to the captivators
    "She's out of the box! Once again.."
    These voices are echoed all in vain
    Her ingenuity is the crime, she's the culprit caught red handed, yet again
    Once more she celebrates funeral of her body, but this time it's a life sentence
    She is entrapped in a darkened room
    Her artistry is shackled, her body is scattered
    But her mind.... still loves the crescent moon
    With strand of her hair, she paints her mind
    Her canvas becomes undefined
    She starts to fill the color,
    the blues, red, the velvety lilacs and tint of white
    To paint the scarlet night, in her vivid insight

    #cees_blue_challenge @carolyns_challenges
    Picture credit Layla Nowras

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    THE CULPRIT

    ©dew_drops

  • dew_drops 11w

    A lost bottle in the blue-black brine
    Floating with the enormous waves
    And some grotesque creatures following its lane
    It contains a map to the gravestones
    Where the deads live with whisper of love
    When it reaches the tranquil shore
    There was no sailor or an ocean aficionado
    To retreive the forgotten flagon
    Until a fishmerman discovered its fate
    It was among the pile of dead ocean debris_cracked
    He was aghasted as if it were a cursed emblem
    He threw it back towards the cliff
    It broke and all the unspoken prayers, silenced verses, melodious words, the childhood fancies, the golden dreams....
    Washed away by the ocean's lean
    It promised to keep it true-blue
    So whenever you here it whisper, it's my message to the living dead
    And to the ones who live beneath the gravestones
    Yes, it's me the bottled soul, trapped in vacuum and resonate with the residue
    The blue ink spills, my ocean of words
    For those who preach it's a messenger
    And those who just breath it's a mere
    paper soaked in blue_meaninglessly
    Hope you'll preserve my secrets with true hues
    ©dew_drops
    #cees_speak @carolyns_challenges

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    BOTTLED

    .....It broke and all the unspoken prayers, silenced verses, melodious words, the childhood fancies, the golden dreams....
    Washed away by the ocean's lean
    It promised to keep it true-blue
    So whenever you here it whispers, it's my message to the living dead
    And to the ones who live beneath the gravestones
    Yes, it's me the bottled soul, trapped in a vacuum and resonate with the residue
    The blue ink spills, my ocean of words
    For those who preach, it's a messenger
    And those who just breath it's a mere
    paper soaked in blue_meaninglessly
    Hope you'll preserve my secrets with true hues
    ©dew_drops

  • dew_drops 30w

    Numb

    I put my hand in cold water
    The transparency opaques my hand
    I feel numb, not the numbness
    but the feel.....
    I withdraw my hand from the water
    And embrace it around the other hand
    To feel the warmth and life again
    But I found my hand numb again
    Because feeling was numb not my
    HAND
    ©dew_drops

  • dew_drops 35w

    Hands

    I can feel your grip on my hand
    It tightens every moment
    And my heart pounds with yours
    With same fear it beats
    Which breath of yours
    Will last longer than it should
    And you'll die....
    I'll die too
    But with a pumping heart
    That'll always beat for you
    ©dew_drops

  • dew_drops 49w

    I am a sculpted piece of art
    The artist has intricated every piece
    I'm made of fine porcelain clay
    Every line of my palm explains,unexplained
    I'm a delicate statue;
    Hard gush of winds had blown away
    Few of detailed beauty of mine
    There are hollow abysses
    Several crack, signs of damage
    The artist created me with much delicacy
    But to the world, I'm just cracked statue
    Maybe one day, I'll fall and break
    My scattered fragments will mix with sand
    But to remind the marionette of wind
    Who broke me,they're also mere sand wonder
    They've raised from where I've fallen
    They'll fall from where I've raised
    ©dew_drops

  • dew_drops 54w

    WRITTEN CANVAS

    I saw myself fading like cigarette's smoke in hues of red and black. It reflects, a framework of broken pieces weaved together with threads of glass creating a mosaic. I could see an abstract of a beautiful painting cleft to reflect the wounds of my heart. The void lacuna filled with streaks of spilled ink. The vivid memories sewed with the vague image of mine by a sheer twines of sundry emotions. The walls that fitted the flawed artwork were the fragments of my poetry. Wherever the seam weakened the impassioned lyric entwined the hollow abysses. Only the words can paint my intricate mosaic.
    ©dew_drops

  • dew_drops 55w

    Candle

    Melted wax collected at the basal
    Glowing candles becoming minuscule
    With every flicker lies the fear to end
    The strive to win the despairing gloom
    And illuminate the demon's shadow
    It cries and tears fall at the base
    Dewy with glistening hope
    Mizzle by forsaken somber
    Left only with lastly lit embers
    Maybe stark will engulf the glow
    Or maybe dying embers will
    ignite the inferno within the bleak
    to endeavor desires of staying alive
    ©dew_drops

  • dew_drops 56w

    Some things last forever but
    TOO SHORT
    Some moments too long,
    Your desire for them to last makes them
    TOO SHORT
    Everything is destined to end on time
    But your love makes it
    TOO SHORT
    One should remember,
    Breath is also
    TOO SHORT
    If it takes any longer, it'll be
    TOO SHORT
    To stay alive
    If the nature fulfilled your desire
    The essence of desire to stay will be
    LOST
    ©dew_drops