@abhin06
I write what lingers between silence and meaning: fragments of thought, echoes of poetry, faint impressions of ideas, glimpses of a story. If you want to read poems, prose, short stories, scripts and essays - this is the place for you!
Faded Ink pt.5
The ink runs thin, life's pages worn,
What meant the world, now softly torn—
Joy's fleeting surprise, love's gentle tide,
Fading to grey, where secrets hide.
(The End!)
Faded Ink pt.4
Before the turn, the sweet repose,
In yellow's glow, where feeling grow,
A someone close, in memory's weave,
Now blurred, but echoes still deceive.
(To be continued)
Faded Ink pt.3
Yet paper folds, and colours bleed,
From golden hues to shadowed need—
Forgotten laughs in whispers caught,
A bond that lingered, then forgot.
(To be continued)
Faded Ink pt.2
A crease in time, where warmth once bloomed,
Now all that's left is guilt - over-consumed
The edges soft, like hands that held
A promise light, unspoken, swelled.
(To be continued)
Faded Ink pt.1
In the faded ink of yellow blue,
I see a tale of what I knew
weaving past the life's long crease,
Forgotten things in soft release.
(To be continued)
Pages Unturned pt.5
And still —the book bends
to pages unseen, its spine
leaning toward tomorrow,
whispering promises unheard
All because you remain,
a reader suspended,
held within a chapter without closure,
where pages wait, unturned.
(The End!)
Pages Unturned pt.4
you know the thing you don't
is what this makes you
so you stay here - with
this broken phase of riddle
It's not a bunch of gibberish
Oh on that you are right, but
so what - the pieces don't suffice,
ghosts leaving you haunted
(To be continued...)
Pages Unturned pt.3
But here you kneel,
tracing the same line - over and over
again through the trenches -
on loop, on repeat
the words curl inwards,
a mantra you can't speak
you fill yourself with its content
as yourself is slowly eroding
(To be continued...)
Pages Unturned pt.2
The air tastes of ink and dust,
letters settling into shadow.
A wound folds itself in quiet,
ink bleeding through the paper
Somewhere beyond this pause,
a chapter waits — fresh and impatient
breathing quietly in the dark
its sentences unclaimed.
(To be continued...)
Pages Unturned pt.1
Oh, here comes the end—or so they say.
No more pages to left turn - Oh, I doubt it.
An end to what?
something that never truly began
Your hands are knotted, refusing to move.
You linger here,
clutching the past—
a thread frayed thin, a fabric long worn.
(To be continued...)