Ballad

"Echoes That Fade"
"Echoes That Fade" As time passed silently, the nights became too still and the days got longer. We used to have hopes, love, and laughing, but now there is a lingering stillness that is ripped apart.
By Rajoan Islam10 months ago in Poets
The Ballad of SEO
Verse 1: The Search Begins In the vast world wide web so grand, A website seeks a guiding hand. To rise above, to claim its place, It must be seen in search’s race.
By SearchEngineWays10 months ago in Poets
This is Longing
This is longing, a hollow space, Where echoes whisper of your face. A phantom touch, a memory's sting, The silent ache, that time won't bring.
By Moharif Yulianto10 months ago in Poets
Dream
I can dream again I can be again My mind was locked in a prison But now they cut through Like an incision A vision Of hope?
By Atomic Historian10 months ago in Poets
"DREAMSCAPES OF LIFE". Content Warning.
I worked over 12 hours on this story music video. I utilize AI as a tool. I use my brain to write & edit in my art studio on my PC. I worked 4 hours creating music with SUNO. I have to have the right beat, the right tune, the right voice. I am picky. Then I worked on the video creations through different resources. I have had over 2o years of music & voice training. I studied nursing, business, & journalism. I am 75 years old. I put my heart & soul & MY BRAIN INTO MY CREATIONS.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 10 months ago in Poets
I'm dying... I'm dying
I'm dying... I'm dying but why I'm lying? Is my death buying? I'm wondering who gonna buying? I'm dying... I'm dying But was I truly living? With every breath I was fighting Days sleeping nights kept fleeting In pain and misery I didn't smiling I'm dying... I'm dying
By Karan w. 10 months ago in Poets
Bleed the Beast. Top Story - March 2025.
Bleed the beast they say But how do I bleed it When it feeds me When it needs me As much as I need it I want to cleave it off
By Atomic Historian10 months ago in Poets
What goes through the mind of an empty envelope?
Humans! Aah, the notorious ones gospelled with the prowess of pouring their hearts onto the folds of power, of unleashing the confinement of unsaid pain through the enigmatic flair of woven syllables through the crevices of their glistening minds.
By Hridya Sharma10 months ago in Poets
A Father First, Basketball Player Second: LeBron vs. Stephen A. Smith
During the Lakers vs. Knicks game, the main highlight of that game wasn’t a dunk by LeBron or a step-back 3-pointer by Luka, but Stephen A. Smith being confronted by LeBron James. LeBron James, arguably one of the greatest basketball players to play the game, and Stephen A. Smith, one of the top journalists in the sports media world, had an aggressive exchange of words courtside. LeBron’s first son, LeBron Jr., nicknamed Bronny, was drafted by the Lakers, and let’s just say he’s not his dad. Which is fine; it’s pretty hard to live up to that level of greatness, but he’s just not that good on a professional level at all. Stephen A. is a journalist, so his job is to comment on players, whether they are playing great or poorly, and he has been pretty vocal about Bronny's game not being good. LeBron did not take lightly to that and confronted Smith by telling him to keep his son’s name out of his fucking mouth. Smith understood in the moment that that was a father approaching him, not a basketball player, so he stood down. But he then later in the week went on to speak about how he thought it was an overall weak move. Here are my thoughts on this situation: I agree with both sides. I agree with Stephen A. Smith’s point that at the end of the day, his job is to report on professional athletes; your son is a grown man and a professional athlete, and just because you are LeBron James, that does not make him immune from criticism. LeBron’s nepotism may have gotten his son into the league, but that doesn’t protect him from criticism; therefore, someone calling his son a trash basketball player, he has to understand that comes with the territory, especially if his son is trash, which Bronny is. Now, where I agree with LeBron is that if you want to talk about my son missing shots, that’s fine. If you want to say he’s garbage at basketball, that’s fine; the personal attack on parenting is where the line is drawn. Stephen A. should not be saying things like “What type of father would want this for their son?” or “Imagine how his mother feels watching the highlights.” That’s where the line is absolutely drawn, and Stephen A. crossed that line multiple times. Yes, that’s when LeBron James, the father—not the basketball player—has every right to step up and advocate for his family. We can’t judge men for not protecting their families, but when one does, we also give him pushback.
By Samuel 10 months ago in Poets
The Last Group Standing
The Last Group Standing Soldiers, Sailors, and Airmen of the Allied Expeditionary Force! You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you. The hope and prayers of liberty-loving people everywhere march with you. In company with our brave Allies and brothers-in-arms on other Fronts, you will bring about the destruction of the German war machine, the elimination of Nazi tyranny over the oppressed peoples of Europe, and security for ourselves in a free world. Your task will not be an easy one. Your enemy is well trained, well equipped and battle-hardened. He will fight savagely. But this is the year 1944! Much has happened since the Nazi triumphs of 1940-41. The United Nations have inflicted upon the Germans great defeats, in open battle, man-to-man. Our air offensive has seriously reduced their strength in the air and their capacity to wage war on the ground. Our Home Fronts have given us an overwhelming superiority in weapons and munitions of war, and placed at our disposal great reserves of trained fighting men. The tide has turned! The free men of the world are marching together to Victory! I have full confidence in your courage, devotion to duty and skill in battle. We will accept nothing less than full Victory! Good luck! And let us beseech the blessing of Almighty God upon this great and noble undertaking.
By Dil Kumar10 months ago in Poets
Don't Cry
Don’t cry You never knew them They were never human Nothing but a glimmer A thought Of something you sought Just a thought
By Atomic Historian10 months ago in Poets
The Eternal Gaze of Sonder
There is beauty in the world we see, the sky gleams through the radiance of the evening hues of the sunset. The train halts at the destination that glistens with the hustle and bustle of different travellers who are on a quest, some to find peace, joy, and excitement and others to find a purpose.
By Hridya Sharma11 months ago in Poets