Free Verse
Earth
Malice in a harsh world. A marble laced with genocide. A venom paired with tranquility. Volcanoes erupt but they create as they destroy. I have immolated myself one too many times. This duality is uplifting. You will find no shelter here. Your grievances stand no chance. Too many bloody battlefields. Not enough resurrection. Life might have endured were it not for heroic annihilation. I pity the future where vengeance exists. Surrender your legacies and watch the oceans boil. Ignite yourself before the sky god does. The odds were never in our favor. The fight is already won. There is nothing left to lose. We will wait in silence as the ropes dangle. The gallows have no ambition. The guillotine has no soul. Avenge me, tidal wave. Avenge me, crimson blood. Avenge me, triumphant martyr. There is no safety net. There is no kill switch. We have abandoned ourselves. We have renounced ourselves
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
The Baker and the Nomad: A Sweet Story of Unexpected Love
James first saw Maya through a steamy window, her laughter like wind chimes dancing in a summer breeze. She was humming, hands dusted with flour, a halo of sunlight around her fiery hair. He was lost, a tourist in a cobbled city, but that melody, that smile, became his compass.
By Sunil Kushwaha2 years ago in Poets
Uranus
First place means nothing. You were already at the finish line. Too stubborn to follow the path, you carved out your own. Radicalized in anarchy, you loved a riot in society. The wind carried you to whatever experiment you designed. The world lay dormant but you built a new one. How can I define a wanderer? You attach to any velcro, you pull on any string. You come and go as you please. You're the non-conformist when there's nothing to rebel against. You're the resistance in a utopia. You're not as abstract as you claim to be. There's no surprise in your theories. There is no tradition to break again. You're no psychic, you're not eccentric. You're nothing special, just a mimic of a person. You wouldn't like what you really are if you ever looked. You're an idea of reflection. There's no explaining you. You are misunderstood. You are condescending. You will spiral into a vortex and come out brand new on the other side. Did you ever really exist? Does it even matter?
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
Moon
There's too many sides to you. Bipolar deceiver, you're too unpredictable. Like a cancer spreading across a fertile landscape, a new phase will arrive. Mysterious lover, what personality are you today? What beautiful sins lie on our doorstep? What beautiful tragedy awakens us again? You're a pillar in the sky. You're a rocky surface. I couldn't reach the bottom even if I tried. Method metamorphosis. Epic transformation. Lunacy is out on the prowl. I hope I can find you underneath all the oil in the well. We surface dwellers wonder where to dig. Your skeletons are ancient. You are one with the dead
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
