The grey has blackened,
No white,
The memories have faded,
Fireflies,
Your scent is gone,
You should be too,
But then you stand,
With a dark song.
It’s a pitch black sky,
There I walk,
Unseen.
Unheard.
If I were you,
There would be a star.
This Post is written for the Incredible Blogger Marathon Challenge. The challenge has 10 tasks and this is the sixth one.
IBMC #06: The Mass Media Challenge is a challenge where we are supposed to use the given picture, poem and the word and build a story around. (Check the link for more)
Here goes my prompt:
People said it was a haunted house and a soul waited to consume who ever enters it. It was right in the middle of deep waters. They said there was a telephone there which kept ringing 365 days, 24 hours. There was this ancient rumor spread that if the ghost finds someone then the surrounding will turn to pinkish red on sunset. And apparently one who took boat rides in the lake was missing!
Feel free to take up the challenge if interested.
This poem is written for Poetry 101 Rehab: Dark . The prompt demands to pen down something on the theme “dark”. Here i attempt, to keep the poem as dark as possible!
The Darkness: We see people who are abandoned and left on streets. We see theirs sufferings. We see those innocent hands begging for a penny. When we are worried about the little things that we could not complete for the day, there are people who are worried if they could get to eat something for the day. They have no clue of what is happening around the world. What they really want to know is “will their tummy fill today and will they see the sunshine tomorrow!”.
He never understood,
He never explained,
Hidden in his smiles,
Darkness and fear files.
He wore a mask,
Never no one to ask,
For it was not his dreams,
Taking darkness in his teams.
The cries of pain,
Heart with dark stains,
For all the things he dared,
The darkness itself scared.
The regrets were strong,
Never felt so wrong,
He did not knew why,
Where life seemed a lie.
Never saw the sunshine,
Or what it actually meant,
For only he could rent,
A deathbed just fine!
In the end, came all,
Looking at his fall,
Only words they sell,
“Sleep Well!”
You can read the poems written by others here by clicking on the blue fellow:
Its PH 