risenphoenix's profile
AGE:
27
LOC: India
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: July 27
LOC: India
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: July 27
Mostly disoriented or absent. Or else petrified and silent. Sometimes secretively happy and thinking of puppies. Existential. Love-a-holic. Distractedly excellent performer. Detached. Survivor.
Items
Version 1
1 Review
4 Comments
I know you once wanted To murder someone you hated The modus operandi was complicated And you didn’t want to be decapitated So you stopped with the dreaming But was he executed?- The criminal called ‘Hatred’ Who made you accomplice to his scheming? I Let us reform the world Let us put up a fight The world is spinning the wrong way Let us set things right Let us make finite proportions Laws, rules and theories But, give me one good reason Why these things should be? II Let us make justificatio...
Version 1
7 Reviews
1 Comment
In that colony all tunnels were red. Often smelling of virgin rains. All day long they ran to and fro to make meaning out of existence. They were imprisoned in darkness. They were born in darkness and huddled together in an uncomfortable warmth. They spoke little. They knew their lives. Monotonous running, foraging for food, battling for space inside the clammy tunnels. They were the moonchildren. In summer heat, they planned their strategies and circled the ends of their world to save up fo...
Version 1
3 Reviews
2 Comments
The belief was that on the thirteenth day of the waning moon in the twelfth month of the year, a goddess from the heavens descended onto the crater in the middle of the rocky landscape of Chronos. Myths quoted that she was a pale as a palomino in the moonlight and the blue damask tints on her cheeks only added to the pallor. Her eyes were described as goblets of blue hemlock that caused drowsiness and inexplicable angst. She was one of the thousand mystical beings in the mythology of the land...
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Reviews
I really liked these lines "On Sunday, sorting through reality Like piles of dirty laundry Down in the basement and Not being able to tell one from the other Knowing only that one should separate The whites from the blacks And even that not making sense any more." Towards the end I thought the language became too simple. It can be slightly polished to make it sound more poetic. Especially words like "mixed up" and "scare" are not too poetic. These two lines seem to be inspired by "Comfortably...
I don't want to critique this piece or any other piece for that matter because these writings are not merely from our minds but they are from our hearts and the deepest of our experiences. Nobody can judge them. I wish I can include as many descriptive details about people and places in my writings but unfortunately I don't have a head for facts nor am I so observant. Most things in my writings are made up inside my mind. This story was frightening and sad. I felt like going inside the story ...
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