I feel void inside cause something's been eating me up,

Deep inside I feel disturbed,

Sobbing in silence, I bear all screams

Which are however; quiet when I am coming home.

Should I question my mind?
Should I question being alive?

I am living with a heavy heart passing on a recurrent sigh.

Can't you see me falling apart?
And how bare these insecurities are...

Those voices still scream but I can't complain...

Cause they are
Quiet when I am coming home and then I speak to the stars.


#review #random

#review
#microtale
#horror

I never saw Martin looking outside the window, but he wasn't focussing too. So when I asked him at the end of his first new school day, how he liked it...he smiled little.
" It was interesting..I guess.."
" So, " my face lit up cause most children are scared and shy to open up. Martin eased himself on the chair as if he has been walking round this place long ago. I saw he has a natural easiness, I cannot describe it...it was something which still I find very queer.
" ...which class was interesting? "
" No one. "
" You found no class interesting? The painting class? How was it? "
Martin nodded his head. He was looking behind me actually, but I don't know what is there to look behind me at the dull wall.
" So, what you found so interesting, Martin? "
Martin didn't feel to answer, but guessed he should talk bit with the principal. And so he did.
" The students who just dissapeared. That was interesting. "
" Disappeared? Who people Martin? "
Martin looked straight at me and chuckled. " Those people in class who disappeared. I wish I could've done so too. "
I wasn't so sure what the hell he was talking about. As I know, no kids leave the class just like that. Never did that happen.
" Martin you okay son? "
Martin suddenly asked me but didn't reply. " Why they disappear? They also don't like studying? "
I got off from my chair and went to him. The boy has a faded golden tinge on his hair colour, and his eyes are deep blue. He is a very quiet child, and sometimes he likes to play his mouthorgan when he is quiet. But no child ever told me these odd things in their first day in school.
" Who have disappeared Martin? Tell me now. "
Martin got bit scared. He looked at my face silently, and saw I wasn't going to beat him. So he started to say.
" Four people like me, but wearing red dress instead of us. They were sitting but weren't opening any book. I thought they are new ones like me too. But they all suddenly disappeared. I saw them. "
I tried to understand why will a child suddenly make up a story. " And that didn't scare you? You can tell me, because I will tell no one. Not even your dad or mum. "
Martin didn't even bothered to listen. He seemed to enjoy what was going on.
" You see people disappearing sometimes? Martin? "
He got up from the chair and went to the window. It was evening, the sunlight has made his hairs a little golden crown.
" He won't hurt you. You are good. "
" Who? " I for a time felt, that he wasn't acting or joking. Everything is happening really, and it's that we all but him are blind to these.
" The man who disappeared just now. " Martin looked at me, his eyes half shadowed.
" Where you saw him now? "
" Behind you. " Martin turned his head again. I didn't dare to look behind my back. It's getting to Christmas, and half of the school is empty now. I never saw a kid again with a strong imagination. I turned around. Slowly. To face the wall.
Nothing.
But a bit fresh mud on the floor, right behind me, as if someone has been standing there.
" Where is that man now Martin? "
Martin smiled at me. He didn't answer, just smiled and glanced off. Then he pointed out his finger to the window, outside.
A tall dark man stood there, half covered in blood. He then fell off the river.

Sometimes we see what we shouldn't see. Isn't it, Martin?

You're the love of my life,
Six words you never understood.

I'll never let you go,
Five words you didn't confess for reasons meant to be good.

Four months had been sweet, but these three days were hell

If two meant a life-long pair, you slipped away
And the story ends this way.

The next day...
Standing there, killing time
Just waiting to commit a crime
Dirty water, poison rain
Perfect murder take your aim.

#review #shortstory #poetry

Call me friend, but keep me closer!

Cause I even want to meet you, when the world is over.

#review #random

Though the heart was stone
The mind was gold
Even when the senses were snore
The brain was bold.

#review #shortpoem #oba

#review #random #Kia
Burdened heart, sniveling eyes evolving from unspoken thoughts...promoting to restless nights.

#review #poetry #asa

Time
Flowing as smooth as a river
Seems to be calm but chaotic underneath

Dream
Livid, lucid and vivid
Yet so sudden and unexpected

Love
Bright, comforting and wild
Destroying, burning everything on its path

Mind
A void, unreached by our hands
Mysterious and unknown

Never once
We can lay our hands
On the God‘s miracle work

#review #random #Kia
What is love?
Love is a fleeting sensation that can be constructive or destructive depending upon the virtue and how it's cultivated between the souls.
It's a fatal insanity that secures the conscience and restrains it from chronic vandalism of heart.

#review #thrillerstory
#Einstestine

" Too close "

Its 2 AM in the morning the bus stopped .
A stranger came aboard and sit beside "Manav" abruptly, he was giving a strange aura of disease and intoxication

STRANGER- hey
MANAV- hmm
STRANGER- its really cold right
MANAV- hmm, yeah
STRANGER- more cold than your fu**ing "hmm" ( his whole body shooked as he barely sucked his anger)

A shock run through Manav's body

STRANGER- listen, ( in a slow hushy voice ) you should make people feel welcomed and don't, make, fun of them. It makes them,It makes them, feel they are different ( as he clenched his teeth )

STRANGER- don't you agree( he looks at manav with a soul piercing gaze)

MANAV- yes, totally ( shakingly as he tries to swallow his scream )

The stranger just keep staring down motionlessly for a whole minute

As manav tries to calm himself down

STRANGER -Hey! there is a joke for you( he just exclaimed at manav's face )

MANAV-What! ( without thinking anything)

STRANGER-Knock knock, knock knock, knock knock, knock knock, knock knock, knock knock

MANAV-Easy, easy who is there

STRANGER-You should have asked that before opening the door ( he laughs as if he is sucking the air in)

MANAV-Yeah, nice ( who just wanted to get out of this situation)

STRANGER- you are the same(while smiling)

Again he calmed down like a dummy

STRANGER-Hey where you going( in a childish way)

MANAV- umm Home ( you have no idea how bad, he thinks)

1 min later

MANAV- and you ( in self-doubt)

STRANGER-Yeah i am returning

MANAV-From where

STRANGER-Your home

His hand was always in his pocket

The incident happens

END

I think there is no need for an explaination here the stranger is 'Heath Ledger' (Joker) no, but that would be fun and more creepy as he is you know dead RIP such a great actor 😢

And the tittle just came in my mind
And now i have to make up something so it looks legit let's say as the stranger had already went to his house he is not a stranger anymore they are close, too close 🙃
Make sense? whatever.
It's my first try hope you like it

Wage, rage and Mocking bird

My soul has started to set,
My confidence has drowned to wet,
Remember, it had burned once,
Leaving the ashes behind.

Myself have become a bird,
Not a simple ave type,
It’s a fire catched mocking bird,
With a supersonic wage.

Wage and rage has ended,
Fire in it has evaporated,
Satisfying of death of foe,
I have now turned to vulture!

#iamsamhith
#review
#poem

#review #randomvibes #KIA❤️
Mingling with me in the foreign land , u faded;
holding my hand in the dark, u departed;
pretending to expunge my tears, u eluded;
mortifying my love, you finally dissipated. ❤️

#review #thoughts
Some people meet with great admiration, but only after two days they put their love on the palm, like someone offering cardamom..

I hate the love that is presented like cardamom..

The time when I'm happy I look for you,
With you by my side I can't go astray.

The time when I'm sad I look for you,
Everything else fades away around you.

The time when I'm angry I look for you,
Seeing you smile makes my heart melt.

The time when I'm scared I look for you,
Hugs make me feel safe, no no 'your' hugs.

Basically for everything I look only for 'you'
I love you.
#review #abhishek

#review #Volfortat #collaboration #Prose #The_Lost_Poet

Harry, a story.

FIRST CHAPTER

A Midnight whisper, between the long gone mountains of Everest, destroyed by the skies, which in turn where destroyed by the clash of nations, the use of atomic weapons and weeping tears of humanity, that melted even the brighest of snow. A Midnight whisper, between the green grass of France, and the Bohemian farmer. A Midnight whisper, the mountain, the grass, and all shall be consumed. ‘What?’, said Harry, waking up from a vision, perhaps dream, nonetheless strangely enough to consume his spirits, and drink the rest of his sweeping blood. Harry, a shy fellow, and possesing virtue on being right, depending on what view you thinking of it, but there is no right or wrong for him, only what mankind thinks of it, but a little more wishing, he analyzed his own character and developed himself the word of good, for is own, denying god’s view, and secretely refusing imposed laws. Imposing himself his laws. ‘What was that dream?’, he said, agnostic to anything but the Dream. His bed was upon a wooden base, next to a window, that closed his eyes with the dark mist of a new cycle of work. The room was simple, but calm, beneath a table, there was a computer, a state of the art computer of the almost 21th century, it was the year 2000, and he had a bottle of wine next to the computer, ‘I shouldn’t drink before going to bed, messes up with my sleep, and gives me strange dreams’, all he could say of the dream was “A Midnight whisper, the mountain, the grass” – this echoed through his brain, and, with an almost profetic saying, made him believed that today was going to be abnormal, although normal to him, as always.
With a weary mind, he switched on the computer and logged on to Facebook, that was plastered with photographs of his so called friends and their dream life along with countless advertisements capitalising on the insecurities of men like him. These advertisements ranged from inability and low confidence of men who cannot pick up girls at the bar or women who want to have the best looking Victoria's secret model figure keeping their fads and cravings for fast food intact. The reality was twisted and fabricated in the best way possible. This high life to people now was like water to a fish who felt the glass bowl was an ocean.

#review #yourthoughts

Title: My Teacher, Coconut!

Himachal Pradesh. Baleen, a fourteen-years-old, dark girl standing five-three, was sitting on the last bench. She kept her head on the bench and was staring at her unsprouted breast holding her stomach. After two years of medicine, a miracle had happened for her last night. She bled.

Ms. Muskaan came to her seat and patted her shoulder, "Show me your homework?"

She scrunched up her nose and looked at her. She stood slowly crossing her hands behind. "Sorry Mam," looked down.

She hid the sparkle of her eyes. She made a pale face and asked her to stand outside the class. She couldn't tell her condition and left the class. She was the only student who didn't finish the homework. It was the first lecture and she had nowhere to go. Her agony increased and she sat outside the class. She wasn't in a condition to stand.

She looked around and to avoid embarrassment went in the corridor. She was going through the corridor and saw the Principal sir on round with a thick stick coming from one end. Her heart shrank, she turned around quickly and saw Ms. Muskaan was coming from another end in search of her. She opted to get scolded by the teacher rather than the Principal. She went to her teacher. Pressing her stomach.

Teacher, "Where were you went? I asked you to stand outside the class and you went for roaming. Is this a school or a park?" her nostril flared.

A drop of tears rolled from her cheeks. She stood silently looking at the floor. Her hands were bound behind. She couldn't press her stomach. In the meanwhile, Principal sir arrived and asked in a husky tone, "What are you doing here outside the class?"

Teacher, "Sir, I had got the phone call from my home. She came to call me."

His eyes widened and eyebrows raised, "What? You left the class amidst. Students are coming to call you in the class. From how much time you are on phone." He paused for a while, "You know Mam, we have NO MOBILE IN CLASSROOM rule. Why have you used it? If it is so important then you should stay at home and take leave."

That infamous hedonist teacher stood silently, listening to the Principal. She spoke only the word 'Sorry'.

Baleen looked at her in surprise. She was abusing her throughout and that goddess was taking her side in front of the Principal and rescuing her.



The Principal asked her to forward her hand and give her two light sticks and left. She had thick skin for the students but deep inside she was the altruistic person. All her actions were for the betterment of her students. She cried bitterly and hugged the statue, "Thankyou Teacher, I'm very sorry," she held her ears.

Muskaan mam never talked to her informally. She had the same attitude again in class. She was still the hedonist one for students. Teacher's Day arrived and Baleen went to Muskaan mam. She had made a shawl for her. Her hands were trembling in front of her. She asked, "What is this?" in a high pitched tone.

She handed her the gift and ran away.

The next day in the class Baleen was sitting with her trembling heart. She thought that she would be scolded by her in front of the class. Though it was not cold enough, yet she came in the class wrapping her shawl.

#review #yourthoughts #shortstory #sp
Title: My Teacher, Coconut!

Himachal Pradesh. Baleen, a fourteen-years-old, dark girl standing five-three, was sitting on the last bench. She kept her head on the bench and was staring at her unsprouted breast holding her stomach. After two years of medicine, a miracle had happened for her last night. She bled.

Ms. Muskaan came to her seat and patted her shoulder, "Show me your homework?"

She scrunched up her nose and looked at her. She stood slowly crossing her hands behind. "Sorry Mam," looked down.

She hid the sparkle of her eyes. She made a pale face and asked her to stand outside the class. She couldn't tell her condition and left the class. She was the only student who didn't finish the homework. It was the first lecture and she had nowhere to go. Her agony increased and she sat outside the class. She wasn't in a condition to stand.

She looked around and to avoid embarrassment went in the corridor. She was going through the corridor and saw the Principal sir on round with a thick stick coming from one end. Her heart shrank, she turned around quickly and saw Ms. Muskaan was coming from another end in search of her. She opted to get scolded by the teacher rather than the Principal. She went to her teacher. Pressing her stomach.

Teacher, "Where were you went? I asked you to stand outside the class and you went for roaming. Is this a school or a park?" her nostril flared.

A drop of tears rolled from her cheeks. She stood silently looking at the floor. Her hands were bound behind. She couldn't press her stomach. In the meanwhile, Principal sir arrived and asked in a husky tone, "What are you doing here outside the class?"

Teacher, "Sir, I had got the phone call from my home. She came to call me."

His eyes widened and eyebrows raised, "What? You left the class amidst. Students are coming to call you in the class. From how much time you are on phone." He paused for a while, "You know Mam, we have NO MOBILE IN CLASSROOM rule. Why have you used it? If it is so important then you should stay at home and take leave."

That infamous hedonist teacher stood silently, listening to the Principal. She spoke only the word 'Sorry'.

Baleen looked at her in surprise. She was abusing her throughout and that goddess was taking her side in front of the Principal and rescuing her.


The Principal asked her to forward her hand and give her two light sticks and left. She had thick skin for the students but deep inside she was the altruistic person. All her actions were for the betterment of her students. She cried bitterly and hugged the statue, "Thankyou Teacher, I'm very sorry," she held her ears.

Muskaan mam never talked to her informally. She had the same attitude again in class. She was still the hedonist one for students. Teacher's Day arrived and Baleen went to Muskaan mam. She had made a shawl for her. Her hands were trembling in front of her. She asked, "What is this?" in a high pitched tone.

She handed her the gift and ran away.

The next day in the class Baleen was sitting with her trembling heart. She thought that she would be scolded by her in front of the class. Though it was not cold enough, yet she came in the class wrapping her shawl.

#review#review #microtale#microtale
#Einstestine#Einstestine

"Parallel's unparallel tale"

Atlast, both of them saw
eachother.
But before they meet, both could already tell that there was a monster coming towards them. the smell of blood on their swords was stronger than ammonia, the raw hunger in their eyes had become a permanent trait that goes against the nature. They both stop at a distance as if they are giving a last chance of escape to anything between them. The clouds , the air, even the life lost it's voice as they touch their swords. The black clouds that rumble on everything in existence, tightly shut their mouths . As they pulled out their swords, both of their nauture got reflected by it, in the whole area, the shiniest object in the forest. As the swords keep shining while blinding the sun, they leap towards eachother, clouds burst in exclaimed and the thunder strike the earth but before it could even reached the ground, it was over.
Now their backs are facing eachother, the result of the battle seperated the forest in two groups, but who won? Their backs are still facing one another, they both slowly turn and gaze at eachother.
They both understood that they were eachother's conclusion.
But the story is yet to be completed, so they both take a deep look at eachother, now they were ready to swallow the utter shame, and slowly put their swords back, as the first time in their life their sword felt heavy.
The strangled life in the forest started to revive as they move farther and farther away.

END
while writing a story, sometimes it's really hard to truly depict the surroundings or what's going on beside our characters it's one of my weaker aspects in writing so i tried something here, hope you all can give me some tips.

Your fetching gestures created an endearing atmosphere,
It absorbed the bolts and let anxiety disappear.
Abating the agony and sheerness,
your affection eliminated the darkness.
From bracing my self esteem to underpinning my personality.
You lit my world like nobody else.
You admired my futile moves, and solved my moronic incertitude .
This eminent soul wil steal your heart, and make you cajole .
#kia #review ....
Kindly ignore the poor punctuations usage format.

#review #Volfortat #The_Lost_Poet #collaboration #Prose

Harry, a story

FIRST CHAPTER: https://t.me/WritersClub/337456


SECOND CHAPTER

By browsing through a few pages, where he had written some comments, unrealistic it may seem, and unrealistic it was, no matter of who it was, no friends of his, through what other's call friendship, a major misconception underneath our own noses. Realizing it was already 6:30 AM, he suddenly thought about the meeting at 7, as such he jumped to his feet from his cozy bed and quickly ran to the shower. Everything was more or less voice activated, an intelligence house one may presume, the best a middle-upper class salaryman could buy, and the best trojan Uncle Sam could give.
With one feet in the shoe and the other struggling to get the socks on, he rode the elevator down to his car, jumped in and drove top speed only to realise that the freeway was completely jammed up with the traffic. With nothing much to do aside from cursing himself and the tragedy under his breath, he turned on the in-car entertainment screen to watch local TV news, his eyes loomed over the headline that a middle aged investment banker had jumped to his death in front of a semi trailer with his body mangled and disfigured. To sensationalize this tragedy, the news reader inserted a comment that translated to the fact that his soul was crushed long before his body owing to the huge credit card debt that had amassed over the years. He shrugged his shoulders because such words writhed his soul and made him ask the question he always had but never knew who to ask.
Was this the life we wanted to live in the promising future? What’s the promissing future after all?
When he was still on the freeway at 7 am, he was no longer under duress of reaching his office for the meeting. He just kept driving straight on the freeway till he reached the left turn that took him to the Skyrise where his office was. He worked for a huge name but never outgrew his cubicle in the last 4 years of overworking his mind, body and spirit, never had any ambitions, and for that his death would seem just another dead salaryman, through with Life’s choices, and his own choosing. After getting a good deal of bashing from his boss who wanted him to be present for the meeting with his facts and figures, that were important to show the client that their money was not only safe with Cipher Finance, but would potentially climb the grapevine all the way to a 56 percent growth even in this market. The roulette minded west was pretty pissed by the sheer audacity and cunning of the east where they had spent three decade to milk their money only to find out that the slave was ready to be a master. Economic warfare was no longer a bookish term to be found buried deep in a book on foreign policies to safeguard national interest but rather it was an umbrella term now to denote all the arm-twisting techniques that the motherland countries were playing with the new found fatherlands. In short, the entire economic situation was a chaotic with only the superrich and super powerful government getting the better of it while the people on whose backs, their empires stood were now pushed down or under the huge debts their credit cards brought on with bare minimum credit ratings that were needed just to lease a new apartment. It was horrible but liveable, nevertheless, yes, nevertheless, the people were mad about it.

Sleep now by saying it bye in the text,
Sleep now with their old memories,
sleep now watching them smile in a dream,
Sleep now she will be with you in the dream,
Sleep now no one will come with you,
Sleep now with a tear of sorrow,
Sleep now you will do some good thing tomorrow,
Or else pass night with your favorite books and ice-cream.
Now a days,i don't sleep,
i dream with open eyes,
Because some unfulfilled
dreams do not let me sleep.

#mohit_soni
#review
#dream
#good_night

#review #story #asa

„Miracle only occurs tho those who don’t know“ - Arif Saniran

The flow of time is a miracle from the God. As we don’t know how. Is it flowing river-like? As I am a science-enthusiast, I do believe more about space-time fabric. Humans have been finding the meaning of time, philosophically or physically. Never once they satisfied. They even try to manipulate time as they well.

One thing I know, this morning time seems to be like a tornado, chaotic, fast and scary.

Once I opened up my eyes, bright light flashing into my eyes. No fucks given. It is already bright outside. I looked around, realizing most(all) of my dormmates is still sleeping. I took the chance to get up and stretch a little bit. Last night dream still fresh in my mind. It feels lucid and vivid. It feels alive and near. Who would‘ve thought, I cried. Hoping the dream was real. Dream.

Everyone had a dream, either they realize it or not. Another God‘s mystery yet to be solved by human‘s mind. How do dreams occur? How do we control them? Where is it coming from? Humans have been trying to solve this mystery for such a long time. Researchers also try to control them. If it is God‘s miracle, don‘t ever try to do His job as He knows what is the best for us.

I hate my dream. It reminds me of my failure. It was about me, walking with should be love of my life. But once ago, I crushed my chance, breaking myself apart. I never be the same since that. It reminds me on how much I changed. Waves has changes the beach and seaside and how waves can even destroy a village. That incident have changed me a lot until today.

Love is another miracle of God. It requires a lot of sacrifices. Some describe it as fire, bright, comforting and wild. Like a fire, it will try to set you ablaze, destroying everything it touches. Those who can control it can gain benefits from it. Love is also something mysterious. Can you control them? Can you force them? Can your knowledge in F=ma can help it? Absolutely fucking not! It is natural. Some said it only a chemical reaction occurs in our brain, which drives our emotion and feelings. But still, no one can unravel the real secret of love. A fate written since the beginning of time, before the earth is even exist. As though humans try to manipulate this, history has proven love is not something we can force. It will end up as a mess. Once we have sacrificed ourselves for someone, there will be some part of use that will be gone forever, never to come back. Some part of me has gone, forever.....

The coldness and serenity of the morning creeped into my spine. It is cold as fuck! Realizing that I was cold and still wearing a short, I picked up my towel and went to shower. I stripped quickly and went to the shower. Morning breeze blowing gently on my skin, caressing me lightly with its coldness. Birds were singing gayly, playing and chasing with each other without any restrictions. Then, I thought about humans‘ ego. Our morality is fucked up . There are some of us put restrictions on others as they want to feel superior than others. There are also some of us restrict others just because of their religion, race or origin. Without we realize, humans is preying on its own kind. We are killing each each other for our own pleasure. We are killing each other to satisfy our greed. I don‘t know but it seems we have hidden grudge with each other. Stupid.

For me, we exist for two reasons, to destroy and to be destroyed, to forgot and to be forgotten. We destroy others and the nature, later, the nature and others will destroy us. We forgot others, later, we will be forgotten. Life only a series of cause and effect. A series of consequences. A series of unfortunate events?

I put on my clothes. Looked at my watch. It was 7.30 am. Class will start at 8.00 am and I need to settle various of stuff. I throw my last night‘s clothes in the laundry basket and made my bag. Everyone was still sleeping. I wondered.....

Everyone‘s mind is different. Mind is not brain but is is what drives the brain.