I dream of Venice, where whispers of the past linger in the air and waters reflect the sun’s gentle touch. Gondolas glide gracefully through the narrow canals, each stroke telling ancient stories.
By Sugan Ya 2 years ago in Poets
Why is your heart cold When it is warm outside You are a "*countryside*" You know Why that's what people told Looking at the poor girl
By Karun 2 years ago in Poets
In the realm where fate's words are penned We often find its scripts don't transcend But fear not, for within us lies The power to rewrite and improvise
By Dawnxisoul393art2 years ago in Poets
i find myself reaching for the words the words themselves evasive at best hover above and around baffling mosquitoesque motes
By Bren2 years ago in Poets
Love and love. Care and care. To love or to be in love. To be the one who loves or the one who falls in love. With every moment, it's love.
By Joe Bou Khalil2 years ago in Poets
I like the drizzle, Because I can sacrifice you my chest-umbrella, I bloom by thundering, Because you hide in my arms, I love when flowers bloom,
By Esala Gunathilake2 years ago in Poets
Along with The Solstice Gate of Skrim,guarding the pathway to the mythical Shambhala. The poem depicts the awesome approach to the portal gate of the unknown
By Estalontech2 years ago in Poets
I thought I needed to be the woman in pearls, short wavy hair, blazer, perfect curls, matching heals and shiny nails, a successful career that never fails.
By Amy Black2 years ago in Poets
Drifting on the Hazy edges of the Second, secret lives We all live _ Bumping in and out Of consciousness On a bumpy road somewhere between
By Roderick Makim2 years ago in Poets
In the breathless expanse of dawn, where the sky meets the earth’s edge, and the sun whispers its golden promise, there lies a world of boundless possibilities.
By Johnpaul Okwudili 2 years ago in Poets
In the deep velvet cloak of night, where stars scatter like whispered secrets, and the moon casts its silver gaze, there exists a realm of unseen dialogues.
In the city's heart, where dreams are sold like cheap trinkets on crowded streets, lies a shadow realm unseen, where the poor dwell in silence.
