The Songwriter’s Song #2

I am, in the blunders of shallow watersI live,with the light of the colored nightWhere are you-when shadows feed the darkest fireWhere are you-when goodnight kissses miss my lipToday or

 

I am,
in the blunders of shallow waters

I live,
with the light of the colored night

Where are you?
when shadows feed the darkest fire

Where are you?
when goodnight kisses miss my lip

Today or not, near or far,
I believe one day, we will sink
to the depths that’ll crush us, into one

Only once, a day becomes today
Every today I believe, we’ll live the last
And dream like the first day

One sight, two lips,
Once more I believe, once more
Once more I’ll live not to die
In here, once more, I believe
my heart will grow old with you

And then, sshhh! peace!!!!

– Teddy ©

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My Story in Thee

s1
All Credits: Teddy

Tried something new here. Color scheme is kinda sloppy. I am including the texts of the poem.

 

You art pieces of the crimson sky,

The sunset whence my world never sleeps.

What for love, tis not meant you!

Live on an empty canvas till morrow escapes dearth,

For you behold colors, purely infinite beauty.

Mine life complete without gold ring or silk,

When sleep found your shoulders, and

Hands beheld your fingers even in satire need.

Death a game on cross-board, for I not fear,

Mine soul not regret, life draped with your memories.

Thoughts fly away in windows for it gather only yours,

Where mine eyes peep to tales drowned in thou smile.

Forth mine mortal body speaks humanity in many lies,

Forth what it not speaks a truth, for it’ll find you in immortality.

 

Tender Line

She was close, very close

Closer than his own sleep

The golden sunshine that spilled,

emerged from his tethered soul

Those tears that always found a smile,

Now is closer to him than her.

This tender line of illuminated darkness,

weaves the wreckage inside him.

He still wears her love inside,

And she found her love tell a long story.

Few inks that he left for her,

bloated on his cry and her fear.

She lost the nights she dreamt in,

and he founds these nights,

Without her dreams and his symphony.

What he lost never found a home,

The home closer than his tears.

-Teddy ©