Love, Poetry

Lives

If there was

an afterlife

a beforelife

or millions of past before this one;

I am ever sure

we were lovers

and soulmates

for each and every life

for how can a love

flare so abyssal and wild

while so tame and familiar

all at once;

How is it possible for I

to just look into

your deep amber eyes

and know that

I will hold you

till the end of time

till beyond this life

and for all of my remaining lives.

 

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Love, Poetry

Seal

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Gaze upon the pair of cutleries

set so deep and fastened

they could almost send a telekinetic stream

before she abruptly

broke the silence in between;

But how can we ever 

be sure that the person 

standing before us

will always be the one

we want-

with an abrupt shift

as the questions came flooding in

too quickly-

what if we find someone

better along the way

someone that is a 

better fit for us;

Her intent gaze shifts

towards her sister

her pupils widen

eyes asking more questions

than her lips could bring;

Brushing back her raven locks

while taking a moment to ponder

her words came

as intuitively as they were pieced;

You’ll never know little sister

you can never

ever be sure

there will always be a possibility

that someone out there

can be a better fit for you

than the one you think currently is

so you will just have to

find it in your heart

to believe

to commit

to lock in

he or she;

You will just have to imprint

a tacit seal on your heart

for the one you promised

to spend eternity with.


Photo by Alberto Barrera on Unsplash

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Love, Poetry

Last Chance

This is the last chance

you are ever having

this is the last time

I am ever trying;

Piecing a million bits of

raw lovers’ feelings

Forging steel-hard trust within

something that always seemed lacking

Creating new fragments of memory

which lately we haven’t

been doing for quite a bit

Putting in effort and sincerity

for the other party

instead of just assuming they know it;

But before you

reprimand me

for being near the verge of resigning

I just need you to know

never have I prayed this much;

But if we aren’t meant to be

as cliche as it may seem

then no heaven or skies can aid us

let alone

if it’s just me.

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Love, Poetry

Her Ring

Wrapped around her svelte finger

the fourth finger to be exact

his fingertips still prancing

between her knuckles

and the silver shined circlet

I love it

she whispered with reassurance;

She really did

it hugged her finger so nicely

silvery with a coral pink gem

perched on it

the intricacies of the pink rock

resonated with her the most

manifesting how beautifully complex

relationships can be

how bliss and weariness

can exist on the same page

how love can be

entangled with almost every

binary of emotions that exist out there

and nevertheless still be as stunning;

Caressing her fingers

gaze set on the silver painted

cotton band with

a nib of pink stone

he murmured

I’ll get you one

with a diamond stone

on platinum one day

I promise;

Embracing him whilst

his fingers still on hers

she affirmed

Even then

will I still have

this ring on

I promise.

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Love, Poetry

Part Of

thomas-kelley-64329

She loved

leaves

of all seasons

dewy, mildly prickly

with the rustling of

red green yellow ones

soothing her mind

like how the breeze does to her skin;

She loved

trees

no matter what shape and sizes

they come in

their pillar of brown just gives her

as much majestic feeling as it does

with serenity

two things which she never imagined

could coexist;

She loved

the sea

of how crushing waves and gentle tides

seem to hum a song

that never fails

to stir her feelings

of how the smell of the seas seemingly

gives her a breath of new beginnings;

Nature was in her

She was part of her;

and somehow

she loved

him

as if he was part of all

the trees, leaves and seas

that she was so

passionately intrigued with;

She loved him

as if

he was a part of nature

that was bestowed on her.


Photo by Thomas Kelley on Unsplash

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Love, Poetry

The Astronaut

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It all laid right upon him

dappled blanket smothering

right over him

with just a lone streak of

pink and green or

was it violet and turquoise green;

I would fly

nearer to the stars 

to the nebulas

and even Andromeda 

if I could

if only I could;

The distance never felt any closer

with the steps he took

years he shed

and dozens of oxygen tanks he had;

The streak of hues always seemed

a galaxy or two afar

yet his heart never once

pumped futile or despondent;

Pushing another step forth

his irises fading into the violet lambency

the only streak of tint the astronaut could see;

and coincidentally

it was the last colour

she told him.


Photo by Thom Schneider on Unsplash

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