In the hush of a moonlit sigh, so deep, Where stars above and waters sleep, A single rose begins to weep— Its petals hold a dream to keep.
By Fazal Malik6 months ago in Poets
In the hush of dusk, a figure stands, A whisper carved by unseen hands. No face, no name—just shape and shade, A soul where silent storms cascade.
There lies an old secret in flowers so still, No face to be seen, yet hearts they thrill. The bouquet she held with fingers so mild,
She lifts the flowers to the sky, so wide, As if her heart with them would glide. A scarf of peace, a robe of grace, No sorrow dwells upon her face.
In silence born, in silence fall, A whisper rolling down the wall Of cheeks that once held pride so high— Now drenched beneath a weeping sky.
Poetry: In the hush of night, he stands alone, A soul half-lost, in silence grown. Smoke spirals like forgotten dreams, Woven through moon's silver beams.
On the curve of night, where silence bends, A soul sits still as the dark transcends. Upon a branch that dares to dream, He rides the hush of moonlight’s beam.
I. The Dawn of Breath From silence sprung a whisper deep, Where stars and soil in cradle sleep, A breath was drawn, the first of flame,
Petals Against the Silence By Sahil’s Reflection She leans on stone that does not feel, A mask of time, so cold, so real.
I’m a stranger in a strange land The fan chugga chugga chugs As it blows away paper thugs The world shrugs As we slink like slugs
By Atomic Historian6 months ago in Poets
Where now do I go Like a violin’s bow Swinging wildly While I beg my mind to sit idly Trying to find the comfort of my own arms
By Ariana GonBon6 months ago in Poets
Quis Curat They say Chase another carrot Ferreting out their sins Where does it end? A society built on lies Incapable of being wrong
