For those who can’t sleep at night!

For those who cant sleep at night! short poem

Sleepless nights

Arms melting in a void

Words refuse to shape up

A poem wide awake by my side

Charming solitude

Around me…

Nothingness

Surround me…

Darkness breathes in slow trance

A constant sermon of silence

Invisible moments dissolve quietly

A beautiful, breath taking penance!

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Chandrama Deshmukh

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
When poetry touches the soul, everything starts making sense. The inner world seems real and the outer one becomes bearable. When thoughts mixed with words travel through the empty spaces of mind, poetry happens to me. It always has been a mysterious force guiding me through. With two published books and one amaturish blog, I consider myself blessed to have started this journey. An old diary with think brown cover and an over used, end bitten pen. That’s where real magic begins! May you find your undiscovered meanings in my poems. May existence make sense. Even if just for a little while.
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of
avatar
wpDiscuz

Next Night

Next Night short poem

I hate the self-immolation of orange sex. Weather was leaving blue strings on the skin. Redemption was incomplete by sharing the legs Lips will not knead the ears. Like wakng in darkness for a passage to grief. Black moon will

Who Was Me?

Who Was Me? short poem

A misbelief breaks into rags. Still I dream of some gods on black pages piecing together the words of light. The rains come in the cage of tears, voicelessly. Striated muscles of splintered faith go to cramps birthing the avatar

A Somber Night

A Somber Night short poem

A volcanic kiss was becoming ungreen. The shark was coming. All night it was raining. The sap was rising and love-farm was deluged. A blue moon walks on the dry eyes. Why the tears had gone to exile? A mole

Stormy Night

Stormy Night short poem

The dark clouds are rolling in quickly, wild wind blows fast and fiercely Many leaves and twigs start twirling around and circling Feeling like Edgar Allen Poe, In the distance I can hear some echo’s Of many dog’s barking in

Splitting The Night

Splitting The Night short poem

Pillage started, when there were anti-answers. The trapped light- wanted to be released, from brutalism. When you were nearly drowned, in the multitude of questions, joining the palms, you collect the moments of solitude. You drop a key in the