A poem I wrote a little while back, inspired দ্বারা something I was reading... আপনি probably wouldn't believe it after পাঠ করা this, but I'm usually a pretty cheerful person. :)
Looking Backwards in the Dark
Our days are numbered দ্বারা the gods
and counted দ্বারা demons,
Our names are sacred and our trust
Is nonexistent. Those who trust, die.
Faith can kill. Having none will destroy
your soul eventually. No medium, it seems.
প্রণয় is terrifying and friendship
Is as tenuous as the short bridge of letters
that convert friend to foe. Good and evil
Take a thousand different forms in the
eyes of the beholders. What is true?
Walk a thousand miles with a lantern
and ask for names. Beware the dark,
Churches are no sanctuary against
anything. And a darkened human soul
Is too powerful. A black হৃদয় can conquer.
The perfect world is a pretty shell
Over a rotting interior. Forged in flames of
death and destruction, cooled with tears.
O the times! O the morals!
What is written is done. Spoken words
lose their meaning. Don’t even think about
trying to escape Fate. Call on the gods
And beg them to keep their power from us -
Humanity is not ready. But does anyone
Believe in anything any more? I do not know
And so we go on. Brother against brother
And friend against friend, lover against lover
In this senseless, never-ending war.
The fault lies in ourselves…
Ask: What is all this for?
Looking Backwards in the Dark
Our days are numbered দ্বারা the gods
and counted দ্বারা demons,
Our names are sacred and our trust
Is nonexistent. Those who trust, die.
Faith can kill. Having none will destroy
your soul eventually. No medium, it seems.
প্রণয় is terrifying and friendship
Is as tenuous as the short bridge of letters
that convert friend to foe. Good and evil
Take a thousand different forms in the
eyes of the beholders. What is true?
Walk a thousand miles with a lantern
and ask for names. Beware the dark,
Churches are no sanctuary against
anything. And a darkened human soul
Is too powerful. A black হৃদয় can conquer.
The perfect world is a pretty shell
Over a rotting interior. Forged in flames of
death and destruction, cooled with tears.
O the times! O the morals!
What is written is done. Spoken words
lose their meaning. Don’t even think about
trying to escape Fate. Call on the gods
And beg them to keep their power from us -
Humanity is not ready. But does anyone
Believe in anything any more? I do not know
And so we go on. Brother against brother
And friend against friend, lover against lover
In this senseless, never-ending war.
The fault lies in ourselves…
Ask: What is all this for?
Shard of glass
drops the blood
Could have saved me?
No one
Empty promises
washed down the drain
Memories cut deep
harmful even in sleep
I'm always alone
in this broken home
There's to much blood
I'm not safe
in this nightmare.
~Kayla
What did আপনি think? Tell me in a মতামত অথবা send me a message, please.
drops the blood
Could have saved me?
No one
Empty promises
washed down the drain
Memories cut deep
harmful even in sleep
I'm always alone
in this broken home
There's to much blood
I'm not safe
in this nightmare.
~Kayla
What did আপনি think? Tell me in a মতামত অথবা send me a message, please.
My family tells me that
i'm very open minded with
the things that i've written out
inside my journal of poetry.
until আপনি read the compelling
poems আপনি will understand
why my journal of কবিতা
was written the way that it
was,
I don't want people to
look at my journal of
কবিতা and discriminate
the tranquility of this private
diary has to influence so many
people who tend to read it.
People around me doesnt
seem to understand why i'm
লেখা this journal in the manner
that i am, so they can understand
why my কবিতা means the way that it
does to me,
i'm very open minded with
the things that i've written out
inside my journal of poetry.
until আপনি read the compelling
poems আপনি will understand
why my journal of কবিতা
was written the way that it
was,
I don't want people to
look at my journal of
কবিতা and discriminate
the tranquility of this private
diary has to influence so many
people who tend to read it.
People around me doesnt
seem to understand why i'm
লেখা this journal in the manner
that i am, so they can understand
why my কবিতা means the way that it
does to me,
Is it okay to be
.....unwanted?
I go to mami,
To see if she
Loved me.
"you should
Be old enough
To know that
A girl who
আরো belongs as
A maid at a
White house
Because she is
A Mexican like
আপনি that I don't
প্রণয় you. I
Never wanted you"
I go to papi who
I call often.
" papi do you
প্রণয় me?"
Papi said,
"How could I love
A girl like আপনি who
Is half the white race?
You'll bring dishonor
To my familia. I
Never wanted আপনি I
Never did."
So I lay down on
My foster mothers bed
With tears in my eyes.
My new mami loves me
But why couldn't my
White mami প্রণয় me?
Do আপনি know how it is
To be unwanted? I do...
But know I am found....
Note: this short story is fictional. :)
.....unwanted?
I go to mami,
To see if she
Loved me.
"you should
Be old enough
To know that
A girl who
আরো belongs as
A maid at a
White house
Because she is
A Mexican like
আপনি that I don't
প্রণয় you. I
Never wanted you"
I go to papi who
I call often.
" papi do you
প্রণয় me?"
Papi said,
"How could I love
A girl like আপনি who
Is half the white race?
You'll bring dishonor
To my familia. I
Never wanted আপনি I
Never did."
So I lay down on
My foster mothers bed
With tears in my eyes.
My new mami loves me
But why couldn't my
White mami প্রণয় me?
Do আপনি know how it is
To be unwanted? I do...
But know I am found....
Note: this short story is fictional. :)