I Tried

Once Again

There I stood,

Realising I repeated that once again.

No matter how hard I tried,

I still saw it returning from its exile.

My memory seems to disappear at the time,

Reappearing after the end.

I sighed pitying myself,

While I suffocated in regret.

I don't know what to do next,

I lost both energy and time.

Putting up my best smile,

I witnessed myself,

Missing my life's target,

In the process of erasing its lines.

~ark

Sometimes I don't care about what people think, Because I've already thought about it on their behalf.

~ark

Thank you @wordsbyicarus for the tag.

I have many works that are to be completed and some that I haven't posted yet. I started writing not too long ago but I have a bunch of them that are very special to me.

Here are some of them:

1. The Ocean

2. The End

3. Free

4. The Contract

5. I Will Die Happy

6. The Silence

7. The Ugly Desire

8. Blinded Eyes

9. The War

10. Forgotten Death

Would love to answer some questions about them!

No pressure for tags @ivaspinoza @safiresyrup

WIP TAG GAME

Thanks @agirlandherquill for the tag!

Here are the rules! - post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

° Atlantis

° Festival of the Dead

° 1954

° Dancing enemy

° Flowergarden of the Battlefield

No Pressure tag for @blob-blobsworld, @philanthropicalsundog @pen-pain-poetry @crmsnmth

My idea for the writers that only write poems and therefore can’t necessarily have WIPs: Put in three poem titles that you think are most interesting or your three favourite poems that you wrote

"People empty me. I have to get away to refill."

– Charles Bukowski

My Memories

I was patient, or so I thought. I counted every moment, To witness the thing, I yearned to see for long. But it came and ended so soon. Glimpses danced in my mind, While I waited for it once again. My tears that reflected the luminescence of my moon, Refused to fall, as the memories would drain too. The future became the past, My mind mourning at the memorials, Eyes blinded by hopes, Should I consider my comfort a curse or a boon?

~ark

We used to be strangers,

Nothing was known, no memories.

I hope we had remained the same,

Because now nothing is left.

No bliss, no pain.

Materialism is a lie. It is a delusional lie and it should not be leading the culture. Not when we are spiritual beings.

Gigi Young

What else should I say?

~ark

Guilt

The urge to remain where we are, not wanting to move, not wanting to change and then feeling guilty for not achieving, for not changing, for not beginning, for not ending, for not continuing.

Standing in front of the mirror yet avoiding it to not witness the failure achieved, to avoid the reflection of the coward who refused to give the best, who chose to ignore everything.

The guilt of not putting efforts and then reading the disappointed expressions hidden beneath the acts of consolation. To show that you worked when you never did and when they say, “At least you gave your best. That’s what matters” 

How do you break it to them? How do you present your cowardness, your lethargy, your unfaithfulness. And then, you opt for a path you never thought you would take. You become something with a void building within. All the emotions that were never expressed eventually stop hurting, they become a habit. The void gradually growing consumes all the emotions leaving a creature too selfish to even care. Showing acceptance for something you should’ve fought harder for but you leave it, you leave yourself where you were.

But in all of this, one thing remains,

The guilt of not feeling guilty. The constant war to define it, to categorise it as justification or an excuse. But these words seem inappropriate, what do you think would fit?

Cowardice, distracted, remiss or the inertia of not moving ahead from the information to know the difference to the wisdom of making one?

Chaos.

My mind and heart are always in chaos. Their conflicts are my contemplations, their silence my dilemma. 

Their contradicting desires to fulfil a single temptation, their yearning to solve something unsolvable. And that’s what keeps me going. Thinking, understanding, then losing it and then reassuring. 

For the cycle to go on, they must stand at opposite ends so the boat doesn’t sink.

They must act parallel to walk together until my last breath.

But then, how will peace be achievable? For how long must this war go on? One must find content, one must feel fulfilled. 

We choose how we live. Life is a series of them, like every mountain followed by a valley. Pain followed by bliss, riot followed by peace. Read it backwards and the perspective differs. 

And at every turn, isn’t every choice, a war of wants?

Peace isn’t constant, a result of constant choices rather. Choice to stay silent and then speak, choice to find peace in war or war in peace.

Thereby, I choose to find solace in conflict. 

Between heart and mind

They must be against each other so that I can stand against the world.