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  • ikigaii 1w

    It's time for a goodbye.

    Dear Tacenda,
    Should I be starting this letter with a 'how are you?' Because in the short span of time - my whole life, I have known you as somebody who has time beyond lifetime to hear the stories, shoulder a head and wipe off anguish from even melancholy's face, but not a milli second in th this vast ocean of existence, for yourself. Only somebody who doesn't know you would ask such a question, but who 'really' knows you? Nobody. Nobody, whispers the silence around me. You're a contradiction to yourself. And others despise you for that, but I think it's beautiful. How each day, you water a dead plant, hoping it'll come back to life. How you filled me with life. And so much of life, that I've become courageous enough to ask where are you heading next. Can you believe it!
    In this world where only swords and gunshots tell stories, who would listen to you, and about the spider who got adopted by a snake. Why would anyone care to know, why did the leaves of a kingdom cry for the fallen princess, before autumn? Why would anyone want to know the the story behind the sky and water getting betrothed?
    I hope your tragic tales are the harbingers of peace unlike the truce that comes with terror as a peace offering.

    But I am laughing at myself at this moment, so much that I heard somebody speaking on the phone about someone being unwell, and in need of help. I believe I overheard my name.
    I am laughing because, even though I know you aren't going to give me answers to any of my questions, but derail me with another tale as tragic as the story of an earl who lost his sanity after a pearl. You're a magician, and possess the ability to derail ANYONE from mainstream to your stories, that are least known. Sometimes, I put myself to sleep wondering if any of those are even real. But the crickets and wind chimes don't sing to me, just you.

    You need to not worry, I'm not going to wait for your letter. Silence and stories. That's what your world is made up of. Silence as the foundation and those verses, the bricks to your world. But everyday, I wake up and continue to live, and not merely exist, and I believe, I pray. Yes, you're a part of my prayers. My life. Will continue to be, forever and ever. Wishing you a good life, takes me back to the boy who went blind, singing to the sun, his mother's lullabies.

    I am fine. Getting better. The paintings you made on my scars like the ghost of Roselyn made on the Duke's palace, they are now washed away. Replaced by engravings of love, Armor of dreams and medicine called time.
    I moved from the Alley of Solitude to my own, home. Got married to a woman, Renaissance. I'm now blessed two daughters, Felicity and Serendipity. We call our home, Hope. That was grandma's name, now she's with us. Forever. Mother and father grow on the window pane. Peeping us from behind the glass. The Lillies have been blooming ever since Felicity was born, and the Cedar tree shelters them when they play under the sun.

    // You're like a song that silence sings.
    A melody to the dark nights of Dylan's poetry
    A tragic opera to Hemingway's works
    A sigh of hope when Austen smiles and puts her pen down,
    You are the rustling of leaves, in spring, accompanying thousand_splendid_thoughts and _hopenotes
    You are a song that's heard,
    In the calling of trumpets of a kingdom
    In the cracks on the ground after a war
    You are a song
    Called life.//

    A few days later to my surprise, I received a letter, written using bohemian stationary, indian blue inked. It was from Tacenda.
    I felt my head spin, and found myself sitting on the grass, with dew drops on the edge of leaves, performing en pointe. I opened it, coercing my heart back into its place. It was blank. Something rushed out of eyes, I didn't know if I was crying because of joy or sadness. I stood up, rushed inside to tell my daughters another story. The story of tacenda. And my answers, well. She said it all.

    I'm not good at goodbyes, and happy endings.

    I love each and every single person who supported these stories, and I salute you, that my delayed posts did not at all dampen your spirits. Tacenda marked some great moments for me. I made many great friends, received wn reposts, but above all, gained perspective and knowledge. I love you all to the Neptune and back. Stay safe. Time and love will heal you. Grow. Evolve. You deserve all that you dream of. Thank you everyone.
    I love you. Take care. Okie!?

    @countablyinfinite here mi amigo♡
    @thousand_splendid_thoughts thank you.

    Do not go gentle into the good night by Dylan Thomas
    The 4 famous tragedies written by Ernest Hemingway.
    The beautiful happy ending that Jane Austen gives, like in pride and prejudice.
    Thousand splendid thoughts (hehehe) it's a username. Must read that person. Here on mirakee.

    ❤️❤️ @writersnetwork thenks!

    #tacendasays #melody #wod

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  • ikigaii 1w


    // I scream between my proses,
    Weep between lines,
    But it goes unseen,
    Like a teardrops in a lake//

    // We cross paths with people
    People cross our hearts
    Hearts feel hurt,
    That goes unnoticed
    Like teardrops in a lake//

    // We encounter pain,
    Like an old flame,
    We smile, with wailing hearts,
    To let it go unseen,
    Like teardrops in a lake//

    // I reach your doorstep everyday,
    Touch the cold doorknob and leave.
    I play with the strings of the heart,
    they never make the sounds of yours anymore,
    My agony, plays unheard,
    Like teardrops in a lake//

    Bye. ❤

    @gelukzoeker honour me, your grace ❤️

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    // they leave flowers on my grave each day,
    never did they leave love,
    While I was alive
    Like a teardrop in a lake.//

  • ikigaii 1w


    What if my questions wonder nothing,
    But my existence,
    the solemn reason behind this pining.
    What if,
    I want you to notice, when I'm not around,
    While I hide myself, 6 feet under the ground.

    //What if,
    My smile hangs on the loose beads of your necklace?
    What if,
    My hope lingers in your sigh of relief, after a war? //

    What if,
    I say, it's getting harder each day, to look you in the eye
    What if,
    I'm fading away into teal oceans, of your eyes?

    // What if,
    I'm afraid, of slow dancing in the dark?
    What if,
    your skin makes me cry,
    each day you mould it into an armor?//

    Whatever makes you happy
    Whatever you want (both)

    //But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo.
    What the hell am I doing here?
    I don't belong here,
    What if I chose to?//

    What if I let my hounds consume the bruises of my soul
    What if it sets me free?
    Would you still miss me,
    but what if you didn't?
    ~ avani

    It's written with the perspective of two different people.
    A broken relationship, is full of insecurities.

    The lines on the cover are taken from the song creep. So are the lines, I'm a creep, I don't belong here.
    ( I've put the link in the bio, damn I love that song)
    Slow dancing in the dark, taken from the song by Joji.



    A very biggggg thank you to everyone for yesterday's posts. It's unimaginable. the amount of love mirakee ushers on me is unfathomable. ❤

    @_firefly you're being missed! A lot.

    @writernetwork I love you too! ❤

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    // you're just like an angel
    Your skin makes me cry.
    You float like a feather
    In a beautiful world
    I wish I was special....//

  • ikigaii 1w


    Verse 7


    It's impossible to be me now,
    So, I place myself into somebody else,
    My soul in a flower, heart in snow,
    Into the worlds with no hells.

    Does everybody want to be alone?
    My hands shiver of the cold within me
    Ages since I've been home,
    How does Christmas feel with love, under mistletoes?

    I've lost my ikigai, was never a majime,
    Does everyone walks around, under the sun, aimlessly?
    Callous, I am, well astrophiles are absquatulates.
    I remember leaving halcyons, shamelessly.

    I've become a laconic, selcouth.
    But nobody understands now,
    beyond the lies and truths of Proust.
    They know and remind where my insipience dragged me,
    never why and how.

    Does everybody want to be alone?
    I lost myself, you your orenda.
    Got stories about mangata and abendrots, nobody to call home.
    So I live with my boketto and hulyas,
    While you last with your epicaricacy.

    ~ avani

    Remember the orphan boy from 'breaking of chrysalis'?
    A sister found out about a brother,how tragic does life get, that she abandoned her family for a brother she doesn't know anything about?
    Second guessing everything we do, hating ourselves for something we had to, wanted to do, just doesn't help.

    Don't ever call yourself foolish for doing something your heart asked you to do.


    Astrophiles : people who love astronomy and stargazing
    Absquatulates : leaving abruptly without a goodbye
    Orenda: force that empowers change in people. Lmao. We're stuck in a vicious loop

    This one can be very hard to get, I've briefed it out in the comment section.

    howzat?! @veloc1ty_


    Okay this!!! 2 reposts, in a single day. This is definitely the best day! Thank youh my love ❤️❤️@writersnetwork

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  • ikigaii 2w

    Writersbay, your prompts are so excellent and compelling that I feel bad if I don't write using them.


    I wore you like the hymn of a saint,
    Like the sparkle of star,
    Carried you like my mother's earrings,
    Dropped my soul, never you.
    I wore you like the clouds of the sky,
    And the mist shrouding Himalayas,
    I wore you like the sunrays on a lake
    Wore you like yakamoz,
    I wore you as the cologne of roses and tulips under the sun's incandescence, in the month of May.
    Wore you like my skin, wore you like my pain, wore you like my one love forever.

    Now I wear you like the cracks on a forbidden castle.

    ~ avani

    Here, tolerate it.

    @inked_selenophile cz I used the moon, and you love the moon. :)

    @myrrhc I made a nuuuu friend!

    Yakamoz- reflection of the moon on a body of water.

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    // I'm more heartbroken today than I was yesterday.//

  • ikigaii 2w


    Verse 6

    the Saint

    Love's a fake ersatz
    Life's a barbarian too
    This town brings you up just to cut you down,
    The weathered windows have been weeping since you left
    The ones who fell in love,
    Are the ones who fell in war, biting dust.
    Those vivid voices of mirth,
    are superseded by muffled cries of Winter,
    dead are the strings of spring,
    and summer burns in the hearth of broken hearts,
    Smiles are the clone of pain and
    tears no longer wait for the rain.
    When you ignite for the flame of flickering hope,
    that's what makes you a Saint.

    Love's a true sin if never loved,
    and life's not a measurable boulevard.
    Everybody here wants something more,
    searching for something they haven't had before,
    If the grey skies threaten snow,
    what do the red ones mean?
    Sifting through the wreckage
    of our own soul
    won't help us find something alive,
    When you live enough to feel alive, and know yourself as you are,
    Does that make you a Saint?
    ~ Avani

    Not much, just a heartbroken lover looking out the window in a cold night, regretting.
    Just a person as me feeling wasted, already.

    Good night lullaby.

    Ersatz: fake diamonds

    #tacendasays #wreckagec @writersbay

    Avani wants to tag Avani @the_silverwings

    Somebody tell me this is not a dream! Is it real?? Oh. My. Good. lord.
    Thanks a zillion times @writersnetwork my first repost
    Damn, thank youuuuuuuuuhhhhh!!!❤

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  • ikigaii 2w

    Hum phir post krenge. My brain is faster than your heart stopping for a sneeze.


    Pull away the waxen veil,
    From the window,
    Let the white wizard with flaxen soul and hair,. perform his enchantments
    Let yourself burst away,
    like stars colliding in the lapis lazuli
    In the sky, in your eye.
    Let the butterflies in you, break away from the chrysalis
    For the world needs to smile and love,
    live a little more than time bygone.
    It's not just another day,
    It's the one you've never seen before.
    ~ Avani

    The line break away from chrysalis taken from my poem breaking of chrysalis.

    "It's a beautiful day, I've never seen this one before"
    Maya Angelou

    Refer lapis lazuli : a blue stone with shades of golden. Here, the galaxy.

    Inspiration: paper ke beech me light Jaye na agar, tab parde khlona, feel aegi. ( Camera band Kar Lena pehle.)

    #dpc @writersbay

    @jiniaa because your name is as magical and special and pretty like a beautiful morning.

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    // it's a day you've never seen before.//

  • ikigaii 2w

    It's my first attempt at any mirakee challenge. This one seems really nice. Thanks for this unique prompt.
    #lanturnepoem @mirakee #ceesrepost

    Screams at
    Empty skies of
    Bruised souls that still

    Now runs to
    Become the, valorous
    Valkyrie she has always

    Of the
    Empty woods of
    Heart are now heard,

    Will make
    You bleed red
    So, she bled like,

    Don't tell me that she's a lantern (personified) staring at the night sky, burning herself. ���� What even..!

    Long time no see old flame. But we still love each other ��@writersnetwork

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    Galvanised Gleams

    Screams at
    Empty skies of
    Bruised souls that still

  • ikigaii 2w

    // I don't get away with my truth by calling it a rant. And I don't care if you copy my ideas, ask me I'll put my own down. I know, you lack intelligence. And creativity. And respect.//

    People have stopped reading me. It felt bad. But now, I can write about me. You. Us. Them.
    Write letters addressed to you, because now nobody will see, just like you never did.
    People have stopped caring, listening, talking, living, everyone exists, for the sake of it and I'm tired. I'm tired of existing for a life I've forever dreamt of despite the fact that now I know I'm never gonna get it.
    What do you do when somebody else teaches you,what you deserve, need, want, should or shouldn't do. The answer could've been, you listen and follow it blindly but before that... have a good cry about having your own opinions, needs, perspective.
    I guess burying humans hurts less than burying dreams.
    It's funny as well as exasperating how much monotonously mentally torturing life can get. I don't get away from my emotions by calling it a rant, I'm worse, I don't even speak about them. Getting emotions out of me is like getting information out of a CIA agent. Till my last breath, I will not let you know how bad you hurt and how much you crumpled my soul. Should I be humble about it? Maybe I don't want regret and guilt to follow you to your grave like mine will follow me being hells and heavens. I've had a hobby of speaking to everything that doesn't respond or can't respond and that's why I like the lines,
    " I don't like people, they're everywhere"
    Not because people are ridiculously absent minded, idiotic, dumb and dipshits but because they've become audacious enough to abuse the ability to analyse and feel. Sometimes it's a curse to feel everything for someone who would yeet you off a cliff the moment they get a chance.
    Now I know, it's looking like an attack to every single human I've met or never have, never will. Probably it is. Maybe not. But who am I to say anything about you, you're just reading it, relating to it, too bad you relate as the people I'm talking about. Worse,you're relating it as me. Because you can't. Lying is the inherited property everyone has enough to last even after they die, if an afterlife exists.
    I don't prefer living among humans, walls are prettier and don't change colour. Offer a support to fall over when a mental breakdown hits.
    I'm a unique case,my mental triggers are marked by excessive joy, festivals,warmth and love. I'm no child of devil or Satan's family member, sometimes people who feel nothing think the same, and infest us with pain, the others think that they can relieve themselves by inflicting trauma over somebody else. But what about me? Somebody who feels too much? I guess you don't have an answer to that. You never have an answer.
    Because you're busy teaching the world that " it's okay to be not okay" why is it supposed to be okay!!!!!
    It's NOT okay and you have to do fucking something about it. Your sympathy leaves them helpless, because you let them know it's okay to be in that dingy dark zone asking them to stay there as long as they want, but they didn't go there with will. Why have we never tried to pull them out with love?
    Empathy leaves you with courage, not for yourself but for somebody else. But what would you know, empathy is hurtful than a zillion heartaches, you sympathise.
    Sometimes I pity you. I feel bad for you too, and I wish I could lend you a part of me.

    // I feel too much to explain, for someone else, I feel nothing for myself.
    Is it a curse or a blessing?//

    "I'll come back when you'll need me." "You mean...never?"
    Bullet in a gun by imagine dragons is my song.

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    // is feeling a curse or a blessing? I can feel you, but you can't feel me.//

  • ikigaii 2w

    Aise hi, sexy lag raha tha.

    // The touch of yours against mine,
    The crafty things you say
    The renaissance of my soul
    And the inter celestial collision
    Are you a piano who consumes my tears
    Or a flute that blows my heartache like a dandelion //

    But I like rock music, bitch. �� Luhmahoh!

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    // they trapped me within walls, so I dug a hole in the ground
    They spilled poison in name of love and care
    That didn't hurt
    So they stabbed me with grace, and an enticing knife, love.
    And I witnessed my fall.//