A place for the lovers of poetry, heart-touching personal stories and beautiful places. Let’s breathe magic into words and turn our life and self into poetry!
Member-only story
God is dead
if there ever were one.
singing sweet and mourning bitter,
morning, nights, and depths despised
in symbols and rings and temples and stones
nothing but painted soulless eyes stare back,
join hands for prayers no one, but you hear,
closed eyes, wretched hearts, and selfish morals,
here we lay our heads and flip coins like leaves
here they mock misery and dance to our peril.
God is dead
if there ever were one.
© Arundhati 2021
A place for the lovers of poetry, heart-touching personal stories and beautiful places. Let’s breathe magic into words and turn our life and self into poetry!
I write because i’m aware of the power words have. I use mine to tell stories, rant on issues that bother me and turn my life and self into poetry.
