An endless void of despair
I thought I would forever drift endlessly
Then I gazed into your eyes
I knew then where my destiny lies
For your beauty shall hold me till the end of time
Entranced by you I felt the world melt away and then we were all but one
Then as I dared to close my eyes
I saw that you were gone
Then the shadows swept upon me
The world was so dark with out your light *without is one word
Were you but a dream....?
--->I cant find you try all I might<----- * this whole sentence
Il never give in * you forgot the i
there will be no end to my fight
It's poetry, not prose.
i don't like mistakes
haha
Untitled
I live in a house,
This house has its lock unlocked,
Making anyone and anything able to enter,
Good or bad, I do not know,
They come as surprises,
I could not take it anymore,
I was sick of the surprises,
I decided I would lock that door,
However, I could not,
Every time I get closer, the door goes further away,
I start to run,
And run,
And run,
And run,
Nevertheless, it does not help,
Nothing helps,
I am losing hope,
“I can’t do it anymore,” I said to myself,
I am tired of running,
I am tired of those surprises,
I made a decision,
I am going to set myself free from this house,
I will not even bother locking the door,
I am going to leave,
Leave everything behind,
Burn that house of memories,
And build a new one.
Untitled
It feels like I am in a box,
This box is filled with everything I hate and hide from,
This is my nightmare,
A nightmare I dream everyday,
I always have that hope one day I will wake up from this nightmare,
One day I did wake up,
I realized this nightmare was reality,
I do not want to dream nightmares,
I want to dream dreams,
Couldn't think of a last line for this one.
This Untitled first one is good one, I like it
It's not mine, but it's a good representation of the very essence of poverty-stricken, third world countries.
The skin cracks like a pod
There never is enough water.
Imagine the drip of it,
the small splash, echo
in a tin mug,
the voice of a kindly god.
Sometimes, the sudden rush
of fortune. The municipal pipe bursts,
silver crashes to the ground
and the flow has found
a roar of tongues. From the huts,
a congregation : every man woman
child for streets around
butts in, with pots,
brass, copper, aluminium,
plastic buckets,
frantic hands,
and naked children
screaming in the liquid sun,
their highlights polished to perfection,
flashing light,
as the blessing sings
over their small bones.
~ Imtiaz Dharker
This poem has remained my favourite for a long time now.
I've never heard that one, but it's very well written and has a serious concept behind it.