Deepest Poem Novels & Stories

The butterflies danced in her stomach, making her so bothered and need for more but suppressed and start with the poem; "In the depths of ocean, where everything defies the law of motion, is where I have placed my emotions, in hopes that the wave will carry it's commotion. And now I am free from the ability to feel From the ability to be hurt so deep So I watch as the waves help me heal. Because if I carried my emotions I would simply breakdown and to the depths of the sea I would drown." She smiled even though she's not facing him, he could feel it. She's proud of what she created and have it memorised in her head. The poem is deep but very beautiful to his ears especially as she read it ou

Wotan Rides the Wind Sanctuary of autumn, a cairn of stones. Death is not proud, Death goes as a beggar dirty for alms outside the county parish, you pass by the sorrel-haired youth, and his laconic eye bespeaks a hunger, a timeless cave of wonders. Death is not mighty, Death is a humble widower who sits weeping by a lighthouse window, polishing brass for the seagulls, ash more bread than fireplace, eating the leftover cheese that has hardened and become dogfood.

"Writing poetry has been a source of solace and inspiration for me. Today, I'd like to share a poem I wrote, inspired by moments of reflection and the beauty of. . . Love.” Taking a moment to centre himself, Ryan begins to recite, his voice carrying the rhythm and cadence of his verses: "Not my acrostic smudges; Darkness is running towards me. I am running away from me. A universe is so huge. In just depths of my eyes, The universe is Too vast to fit. I am Asking myself;

I storm out Why won't anyone believe me, I have a real life vampires blood Arrg! after everything I went through, still just insults I did my study on those creatures for years, and I can still remember some of my favourite poetry and poems I read as a kid A Last Word by Ernest Dowson Let us go hence: the night is now at hand; The day is overworn, the birds all flown; And we have reaped the crops the gods have sown; Despair and death; deep darkness o'er the land,

“Let’s see it.” I turned the paper over, and revealed the poem scrawled in pencil on the back. Down the streets of woodland black I wander, earth to hearse In every tree I see a wave A looming tidal curse On the cusp of something greater Stood ankle-deep in floodwater Stagnant pools of brown and red The onslaught is coming; I dread For each dark night and each pearl day The mist does clear too soon The floodplain is drown’d again The water, torn from its ocean womb

It was like heaven had also become much, much closer. “Giovanni,” I cried, his name again aching my back, making him slide deeper into my throbbing pussycat. Giovanni’s hands moved under my body, clasping the cheeks of my bottom as he angled his thrusts. This time, he went so much deeper into me, and with every plunge of his length, it would rub against the sensitive nub of my flesh, making me gasp. I had thought that there would be no greater pleasure than what his thrusts were already giving me, but this—

Below was a darkness so deep it seemed bottomless, with only the sound of waves crashing against the rocks as the tide rose. "Sir, we've already contacted the rescue team to begin the search." The three Fleming brothers arrived shortly after. When they saw the bottomless abyss below, their hearts sank as well. Everyone knew that surviving in such conditions was almost impossible. "Look for her. I want to see her alive, and even if she's d—" Instead of finishing his sentence, Nicholas swallowed the rest of his words, as if he was afraid of casting even the slightest shadow of misfortune upon Karina.

When cities wear around their necksthe seethe of the cold, traffic slowsto the gutter the clambering freeze,and half a heart this rain touches our skin,mere stains we believe home recollectsmemories, drops of names unclutteringsuspiciously in the melting shadow,over the ice age of our singular breath,surface of things revives in the darkwhat is lost from a deep gorge of sleep,seconds on the side of water, more hope than hiding, beyond the evening light--there is a rustle of a long sworn word,a lonely song at the night’s heels, oh—but were you there to hear it?

The lecture hall door unlocked with a click, and she slipped out, her body still tingling from the multiple orgasms. She knew she should feel guilty, but all she could think about was how much she needed this again

“But I think… I think this one fits us.” My fingers brushed gently against the shell's polished ridges, coaxing out the notes that echoed softly throughout the room. I chose the one I dubbed "First Bloom." It was a melody that signaled the shift in tides, the passage of storms, and the first appearance of color in the coral beds. It was about the changing seasons and new possibilities stirring in the depths.