Community post
August anxiety
Disturbing and calming. The sky.
Looking through the photos I remember some moments.
Unfortunately, I rarely manage to enjoy the silence and landscapes. And a little bit of a warm bonfire.
Photo from 2022.
Sadness and peace
A gray ball in the soul
Tightly intertwined.
The yarn is foggy,
Threads of incessant thoughts
They knit minutes.
Gentle and quiet
The memory will embrace me
Like warm clothes.
Old clothes
The years fell to dust,
Time slows down.
But in the heart
Suddenly there was a scream,
Crying cold.
Bitter words
Beat against the chest deaf,
The voice is mute.
People around -
Only ghosts of the night
Shadows without a name.
The world is colorless,
Everything around is like a dream,
A cunning illusion.
A look through the darkness
Where life falls asleep
Colors fade.
The walls are stone
Suddenly they become like crystal,
Marevo is clean.
Transparent door,
The exit seems close
Just touch.
Will there be enough strength?
Go through this fog
Cracked glass?
Doubt grows
The wool holds me
Knits wrists.
Closed space,
Where is loneliness and longing
Weaving a bedspread.
Sadness is sweet
But this inner cry
Desires freedom.
A step to the limit
Where the world begins
Other shades.
The shadows will melt
If you break the wall
By own efforts.
The heart is beating
A mute voice will come to life
Will move stones.
Gray ball
I will untangle myself
New in the morning.
The light will pass
Through the crossroads of thoughts
He will open the door.
Replies (42)
Kudos on completing your daily Ecency leaderboard quest, @shadeflowersart! A hauntingly beautiful reflection that perfectly captures the intersection of melancholy and tranquility.
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STOPCheck out our last posts:
The fire goes out,
But the light remains
In our thoughts.
Silence around,
Only the wind flips
The clouds above us.
The heart will remember
How important it is to catch
The breath of nature.
But in the eyes
A glint of
This institution remains.
A photograph is
Only a ghost of minutes,
That have passed.
The moments of rest,
When the sky and peace
Became one.
Warm smoke
Takes away all the sorrows.
The crackling of branches,
Which gives joy
In the damp darkness.
A wealth of sparks
We would like to warm our souls with fire right now.
Somewhere on the edge
The anxious
And long day falls asleep.
The sky burns
With the warm fire of hope,
Warms through the clouds.
The light fades,
Becomes golden beyond the horizon
A lonely evening.
The space is silent,
Where distant landscapes
Call home.
The hum of routine
Drowns out that silence,
That is so necessary.
Rarely,
When
We manage to simply freeze,
Stop the world.
Time is in a hurry,
We are late to live,
We lose peace.
Memory flips
The moments that have already sailed
In the distant twilight.
Old frames,
On the cold screen
The days have come to life.
A look up,
Where the changing rays
Embrace nature.
Heavy clouds
And anxiety and peace
In the sky merged.
The moment passes.
Only the
Taste of bran remains.
The clay mug
Keeps the warmth of
My palms.
The blinds on the window
Let in strips of
The last light.
Shadows grow.
The neighbors have fallen silent.
Just me and the tea.
Steam over the glass.
Fatigue dissolves
In hot water.
Meditation.
Simple things
Give freedom.
Contemplation of the walls.
Time has slowed
Its usual course.
A lucky moment,
When memory is silent
And doesn't hurt.
If it weren't for peace,
Sadness would creep
From the corners of the room.
No heavy thoughts.
Emptiness in the head.
Clean space.
Wings above.
The sound of birds is cutting through the peace.
Birds are soaring.
Noisy silhouettes in the last rays.
Behind the clear glass, the evening sky is slowly fading.
Uncomplicated sound.
Simple dinner at dusk.
Black tea is steaming.
Not a single crumb of sugar.
Pure taste.
Crispy texture.
Bran bagels on a plate.
Gray linoleum.
On the floor, it's comfortable to listen to the evening.
Cold through the shirt.
My back feels the refrigerator door.
Outside the window, someone's distant conversations are buzzing.
Strangers' words.
Evening time.
A cup of tea warms.
Silence all around.