No more life

 

 

Dark crimson

Red,

Some black

Some bluish pigments

Spots she had.

 

She lied there

Unmovable

Untreatable

Unused,

Outguessed

Remains

The reason of her

Such state,

Remains

In her

Solid cold bones.

 

Her pink turned black lips

Her brown caramel eyes

Her breathless

Noiseless

Motionless

Lifeless

Body.

 

 

Unmovable

Unseen

Reason of her

Present state,

Unknown.

 

Only some dripping hot blood

Shows

That before a while

She was movable

Treatable

Worth guessed

Outraged.

 

Why?

 

No one knows

No one guesses

No one feels

No one shows

No one tries

No one wants

No one does

No one does know

 

No one

 

 

Except that

She will never return

Ever.

 

 

© 2012

 

=================

This post was an answer to the daily prompt, “http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2012/11/30/daily-prompt-imitationflattery/” ie, copying your favorite blogger style of writing! Woof! Cool right?

Not likely. Trying to imitate someone, but not losing your own style, however, your style must not overlap your inspirations…Woof! Too much to handle!

So, one of my favorites and the one who I never though I could copy, the free verse writer  THE NAUGHTY POET, (http://thenaughtypoet.wordpress.com/) is imitated here by me . Hope its not too bad. Would love to hear from my inspiration himself, as well as my lovely friends.

 

 

Thank you!

Enjoy!

 

Advertisements

Why do I write?

 

Why do I write?

A question much like advice

Whose answer I do know and don’t

Hidden in my veins, heart and eyes.

 

Do I need to know why I write?

 

I write because I must

I can’t handle it, it’s like a lust

But more than that, let’s say

It’s my one and only true lover in sight.

 

This is why I write.

 

It’s the fountain that quinces my thirst

Gives my dying soul a re-birth

It makes me take my breath

When the world seems to end my life.

 

This is why I write.

 

It’s a vent to give out my pain

To stop my mind from being lame

To close the pores that may

Slash my heart like a knife,

 

This is why I write.

 

I write because I can,

Because it doesn’t desert me, does not ban

My feelings, my words, my thoughts

And always supports me in my plight.

 

This is why I write.

 

I write because its free

And is just like planting a tree

For changes, revolutions, notions,

To bring back the freedom out of sight.

 

This is why I write.

 

These are all explanations to the quest,

Enough to pass a test,

But there’s a secret again in my heart that:

It’s my soul’s god’s advice!

 

And it is not in my own hands not to write…

 

I cant live without it, my friend!

Can’t think of doing so with all the world’s wealth in hand

You think I m wasted? I love being so….

For it heals my burnt soul like ice.

(and tell you, it’s my life)

 

I can’t think to live without my life,

This is why I write.

 

 (c)2012

 

 =========================================

The piece of poetry I had been longing to sculpture since ages.  It came out when I read the daily prompt at “http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2012/11/21/daily-prompt-last-words/?like=1&_wpnonce=53d959a0ec

ie, your last post!!! (no, this isn’t, but I want it to be the one if ever)

I wanted to tell people about myself in it, but then I thought; I always express myself in poetry or prose or any other form of writing, so why not write why I do write?

 

 

Yes, this is the reason. Because I love to write.

 And love may have thousands of reason, but then, it is reasonless too.

It’s a part of my paradox, enjoy it!

 

Loves to all my readers,

Enjoy!