Submissions by Emptiness (yusha)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I exist in such such voidness of life.
SELF POEM
Published
1st Apr 2012 3:45pm
1st Apr 2012 3:45pm
As I wither
Withering in the bleakness of Cold
Here I'll die even if I have to,
without being old.
Cause for truth, anything;
My everything.
Even if such chill has to pass through me
like million of needles; pricking,
I will stand still
For I wasn't born to sweep away by wind.
And as I wither,
bring me beautiful end.
Time ! Will you?
Here I'll die even if I have to,
without being old.
Cause for truth, anything;
My everything.
Even if such chill has to pass through me
like million of needles; pricking,
I will stand still
For I wasn't born to sweep away by wind.
And as I wither,
bring me beautiful end.
Time ! Will you?
663 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
1st Apr 2012 3:10pm
1st Apr 2012 3:10pm
Angry Butterflies.
When the darkest of the night begins,
it separates me from everything;
from the ground where I am standing to the ceiling that makes me dazed.
I absorb as I think clearly.
Quietly.
And things become different.
Then wall speaks.
Scream in my ear rings like never stopping bells.
All those lost things come back, flying.
There I close my eyes to see;
the vague image of angry butterflies...
flapping their broken wings constantly reminds me
that, everything what I had once was real and I still have that everything if I like to...
it separates me from everything;
from the ground where I am standing to the ceiling that makes me dazed.
I absorb as I think clearly.
Quietly.
And things become different.
Then wall speaks.
Scream in my ear rings like never stopping bells.
All those lost things come back, flying.
There I close my eyes to see;
the vague image of angry butterflies...
flapping their broken wings constantly reminds me
that, everything what I had once was real and I still have that everything if I like to...
686 reads
1 Comment
DARK POEM
Published
31st Mar 2012 3:30am
31st Mar 2012 3:30am
Not the same skin. Anymore.
Not the same skin,
Not the same person I have left back to love all over again,
Now that he raptures in hers
and here, he keeps me wait.
So beautiful words he speaks
that scares himself
But Is he aware?
That I am the one who has to suffer this beauty?
and that he can't convince me?
I want to rush to the end,
to meet him again
cause he's asked me to wait.
Please, everything ! Be over,
Even before tomorrow comes.
Cause I don't know if I will be the same. Tomorrow.
Not the same person I have left back to love all over again,
Now that he raptures in hers
and here, he keeps me wait.
So beautiful words he speaks
that scares himself
But Is he aware?
That I am the one who has to suffer this beauty?
and that he can't convince me?
I want to rush to the end,
to meet him again
cause he's asked me to wait.
Please, everything ! Be over,
Even before tomorrow comes.
Cause I don't know if I will be the same. Tomorrow.
662 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
31st Mar 2012 3:06am
31st Mar 2012 3:06am
Do you exist in emptiness too?
Lost and found
and now lost again.
into the voidness of life.
and oh, this emptiness!
Is this an ultimate end?
Then, let me vanish.
The end is same
for all of us;
to meet again.
Through air
and untold words.
The only promise in life is death.
and now lost again.
into the voidness of life.
and oh, this emptiness!
Is this an ultimate end?
Then, let me vanish.
The end is same
for all of us;
to meet again.
Through air
and untold words.
The only promise in life is death.
720 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
30th Mar 2012 8:00am
30th Mar 2012 8:00am
Where are you?
What kind of end is this ?
No more you, no more me.
Lost in this unknown sea
left unloved
Forgotten when you are dead is better than
Forgotten when you are still alive
what kind of drama is this ?
where we have to remember to forget the one.
Where are you and what have you done?
Are you aware?
Is this the end?
and of what kind?
Please tell me.
No more you, no more me.
Lost in this unknown sea
left unloved
Forgotten when you are dead is better than
Forgotten when you are still alive
what kind of drama is this ?
where we have to remember to forget the one.
Where are you and what have you done?
Are you aware?
Is this the end?
and of what kind?
Please tell me.
645 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
30th Mar 2012 7:47am
30th Mar 2012 7:47am
This Elysium.
what elysium is this?
where everything feels so dream-like!
Where love in its purist form, calls my name
far beyond this sky
what elysium is this?
that makes me miss you more than a bird misses that sky when its in cage
Anyway, hoping to fade away with this glory where time leads to
This elysium, my elysium.
where everything feels so dream-like!
Where love in its purist form, calls my name
far beyond this sky
what elysium is this?
that makes me miss you more than a bird misses that sky when its in cage
Anyway, hoping to fade away with this glory where time leads to
This elysium, my elysium.
716 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
29th Mar 2012 11:10pm
29th Mar 2012 11:10pm
Remember me as I remember you.
Do you remember?
us.
Me, alone sometimes?
What do you remember of me?
A woman who loved you, the whole
for whom you can't love the same way?
When I remember you, I remember you and her-together.
This makes me forget you.
And I can't be the same woman I used to be.
I think.
I think so is right.
us.
Me, alone sometimes?
What do you remember of me?
A woman who loved you, the whole
for whom you can't love the same way?
When I remember you, I remember you and her-together.
This makes me forget you.
And I can't be the same woman I used to be.
I think.
I think so is right.
1013 reads
2 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
29th Mar 2012 10:57pm
29th Mar 2012 10:57pm
Stranger in her backyard
font=Courier New]
Sad she was,
Sadder her thoughts,
And saddest was her back-yard;
where she used to sow,
row by row,
whenever she felt low.
There.
She sowed
seeds, and her thoughts too.
Time passed by.
Some time after that,
Time passed by again.
Morning bird swung on the branches,
sang her a song
of mysterious land; never heard before.
Then.
White.
All White; Her Backyard.
where feet wanted to fly,
just above from the ground
merely protect the purity and essence
of that white....
Sad she was,
Sadder her thoughts,
And saddest was her back-yard;
where she used to sow,
row by row,
whenever she felt low.
There.
She sowed
seeds, and her thoughts too.
Time passed by.
Some time after that,
Time passed by again.
Morning bird swung on the branches,
sang her a song
of mysterious land; never heard before.
Then.
White.
All White; Her Backyard.
where feet wanted to fly,
just above from the ground
merely protect the purity and essence
of that white....
841 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Emptiness (yusha)
Page:
