Every Day Poems

My hands are heavy, glaring crimson in the moonlight. They smell putrid, rotten flesh tattered across the floor. I have killed you, with my own holy hands; red lines across pale skin. To keep you safe from this tainted world. Pure. Unblemished. Untainted. My treasured child. #scribble #OC

Dear June, I hope you bring solace in poetic lines, May verses illuminate your days with beauty. You hold within you untold tales and silent moments, A lovely chapter in the year's unfolding journey. #June #NewMonth #NewBlessings #thesecondpoetry

Photographer He is fond of capturing images, Of vistas otherworldly, Seeking to immortalize fleeting beauty, In moments ephemeral. He would seize upon these scenes, With unwavering spontaneity, One might say he cherished it ardently, Be it the skies, the sun, or the moon. There was never a juncture, a temporal instance, Where he would halt his pursuits, Merely to seize an image, Of something resplendent. Yet, as the sun descended this day, An anomaly arose; despite his countless sunsets captured, At this precise moment, on this particular day, His camera remained untouched. The sun, akin to those prior, yet different, Held him transfixed, All he could manage was to observe, His camera untouched, his hands unmoved. As the sun cast the sky with gilded and crimson hues, The breeze carried the fragrance of blossoms, The distant melody of waves against the shore, He understood that some moments are meant to be felt. Now, his sole desire was to watch the sun, As it vanished beyond the horizon, Beholding the splendor of something, Beyond the grasp of his camera.

The Lie said to the Truth, "Let's take a bath together, the well water is very nice. The Truth, still suspicious, tested the water and found out it really was nice. So they got naked and bathed. But suddenly, the Lie leapt out of the water and fled, wearing the clothes of the Truth. The Truth, furious, climbed out of the well to get her clothes back. But the World, upon seeing the naked Truth, looked away, with anger and contempt. Poor Truth returned to the well and disappeared forever, hiding her shame. Since then, the Lie runs around the world, dressed as the Truth, and society is very happy..... because the world has no desire to know the naked Truth.

It is akin to music - the light struck on a chord that passes across in sensation, like the contact of a toe on a barricade's edge. It is akin to music - a perfect struck on a chord that sends chills to your spine, like when the world turned against you. It is akin to music - a wild struck on a chord that marks the climax of a song, like the cat that drowned in sinking soil. Listen; The broken fragments of death, is unbroken. ~ Myra

Just because you love the moon, doesn't mean you have to be its darkness in order to make it shine

# Sin Like your favorite drink, With a bittersweet taste, The soul's insatiable hunger, Perched on the lips, leaving a lingering effect. A temptation, art's of finest lure. Captive, yet it revels you in wealth, Darkness with a gleam of light, A snug embrace, but false comfort. And when it takes back its dues, You break, Lost in what you have become. #Sin ~ Victoria Damilola