Poetry Tumblr - Tumblr Posts
The deepest scar
The deepest scar can't be seen/it is inside, living its own life/A world of its own, it rules the mind, skin alike/Scars they might be phyical or mental/Both hurt the same/After all the trauma it was deep/And something they never deserved/Something they never asked to see/Something that ended their happiness/Indeed.
~ nightskies-poetry
Here is another one of my poems :)
"The heart was made to be broken"
~ Oscar Wilde
Death
Death can be beautiful too,
For every end has a beginning,
In life we endure.
In afterlife, we sit back and breathe.
No more we are limited to a mortal body,
Our souls are forever immortal.
With no skin to get hurt,
We are immune to every disease.
Alive for an eternity.
~ nightskies_poetry
A gentle breeze blew away her ashes,
While her soul fought with strong winds.
May she rest in peace and
live in eternal joy and glory.
~nightskies-poetry
If only one could let go that easily, then millions of kingdoms and dynasties would be saved
~nightskies-poetry
And the light in your eyes holds the brush, never letting the colours fade from my crestfallen canvas of a heart.
"Worlds apart" by @_.nightskies
Time has its way of playing, Playing many tricks, a human can never fathom or defeat and live.
— "let fate decide" by Niraja Ghatak
I feel that as writers we think and feel a great deal of emotions, the thoughts just never seem to stop filling into the mind and that is what makes us writers, poets and creative human beings in a nutshell. It is the fuel for our minds to create art, it is our greatest blessing and our greatest curse. Why curse you might ask? Because when you feel, you get hurt. It is a fuel that never runs out just like pain. There is beauty as well as a great deal of pain that resides in poetry.
— random thoughts by @_.nightskies
I wrote this for a friend but they didn't care so I can post it I guess
Often, I don't feel like I am inside the moment. I am crowded with a sense of detachment that throws me into a transitional state—as if I have been suspended into a space that exists outside of the sync of time and reality.
buying literature instead of dinner because it feeds me more
You want me to open that door, but you don't really want me to.
I can't open the door because if I do, there's no way out other than the way I came in, and I know you won't let me pass you.
I don't want to sleep in there, but once it's open, I know I’ll l have to.
I exist merely in poetry, that is it