war poems for my grief

when i was young, my obsidian orbs would bleed crimson tears of agony that drove mortals wild with bloodlust. now, I’m fifteen aeons away from the battles they waged to quench the ardour raging in the darkest pits of their marred souls. I’ve spent every second of my accursed existence fostering love in the cracksContinue

four things i love today

I’ve spent fifteen years and seven days on earth and a lot of this time has been wasted on things that make me feel bad about myself. hence, I’ve been ignorant the fact I love and am grateful for a few things, more than anything else in this world. I came across this prompt~ ‘4Continue

my poetry is not art

my metaphors are synonymous with ashy paint peeling off chipped cracked walls of rundown houses at the outskirts of town. my best friend tells me those houses are haunted, she tells me my poems aren’t. but I see the fear brimming beneath her onyx lashes when she sees my blanched eyes glinting like the clubContinue

of storms and sorrows

puffed misty orbs lour the ether withsullen moods and disgruntledemotions, casting looming shadowsover blanched concrete skylines. petulant sentiments flash throughhaze in blinding streaks that illuminatesallow guise adorned by the sky,igniting every lofty element that daresto suppress their fearful articulation. thunderous whimpers are forlorncries that shatter the doleful silencelike woebegone wails of ailing spirits;they traumatise dreamsContinue