• 96bb8176b3d64ddc8f529a8066a72e16 krishnega 1w

    For, all the souls
    who think one life
    is far too less
    They write stories.

    For, all the souls
    who think this world
    is far too small
    They dare dream.

    -Krish

  • 6b2441902dfe049a810936bc98c9d44b khadijachughtai 1w

    // this too shall pass //


    #pod #writersnetwork #writerstolli

    Read More

    I try not to show
    but I don't really know
    if it's my soul that's tired
    or I am sleep deprived
    If there is too much dark
    or I am broken at heart
    If am feeling too much
    or I have been too numb
    If things are a lot to take
    or feeling deep is my mistake
    If the world is too ugly
    or I fail to see the beauty
    If I overthink things
    or to the sadness I cling
    If I should call for the help
    or shoud I try not to yelp
    but there is something wrong
    and I don't want it to prolong


    ©Khadija Chughtai

  • 49907a738beb15b16e43db95f36676aa alisdaire_ocaoimph 1w

    Prayer

    I drop
    Where knees
    To floor
    Out pour
    This my soul
    Upon a dark
    Room
    Pleading
    The pain within
    The agony
    That grips
    Rips away
    What once
    I thought
    Was true
    Full
    But there's
    Little left
    And I come
    Ashamed
    Humbled
    To you
    In prayer
    That somewhere
    Light will grasp
    Open my soul
    Allow me
    To again be.

    Alisdaire O'Caoimph
    ©alisdaire_ocaoimph

  • 9e51cb8e90161a253b604aaa0e72c498 dipzet 1w

    A Mindful Walk

    Pruning away the foliage,
    Brushing off overgrown
    Branches rooted in neglect,
    Left spots, see-through yet
    Too dense to paint a portrait
    Of Van Gogh's dandelions bloomed
    Across the field;
    Blinded, trudging in the mud,
    Of perennial rains eroding
    Hills to mounds of earth once
    Kissed the skies;
    Revisiting the Eden of childhood,
    Laid to ruin, desolate in
    The Pandemonium enveloping my verdant
    Forest- no sun-kissed gravel paths,
    Mere clumped dirt from which I
    Rose again, and again, as a
    Phoenix to burst in flames anew
    And raze the stoic saplings sprawled,
    Now carcasses of vigour spurned.

    A walk alone in solitude and
    Thought, of ruminations permeating
    As sunshine shirked in the
    Absence of its vitality;
    Unknown when forgotten,
    Deserted and despondent, lay
    Dozing dreamless in automation-
    Mirages no longer deceive
    The inveigled and beguiled
    Pastures devoid of sustenance;
    For once a thriving thicket, turmoiled,
    Lost in reveries as I, for
    Wherefore the produce of an idle
    Mind finds supple twigs to
    Nourish and supply,
    Thrive and now bestow a
    Breath of life, a stable system of
    Support when ravaged
    By unthinking eyes?

    A walk to home, where
    Destitution marks itself in
    Pathless ways, never trod on,
    Cured or glimpsed at,
    Fearful sighs had locked the
    Gate- now as conscious thought
    Decides to recollect, retrace
    My steps, youth abandoned sense
    That nurtured paddocks; joyously embrace.

    Though I walk alone through leafage,
    Writ with unremembered past,
    Flash-flood evocations prodding
    Slumbered reason stirs at last.
    ©dipzet

  • F14f7433f6a0e835db9a38cb3376acee justhannah 1w

    Love doesn't magically
    appear or vanish,
    it lives in souls,
    but never in a
    grave of bones.


    ©justhannah

  • 437a3d3bc205b5eddb6bde1670c41ed9 iam_rose 1w

    .

  • E40d8950cb7bc66209f27daeb6ab89c7 arpitabej 1w



    The secret of success
    is consistency of purpose
    ©arpitabej