Poetry With Soul Novels & Stories

There-my head tilts ever so slightly, as I drown in his gaze. In between colors that have no names. Passed the beauty of his dark stare, behind the cold dark exterior- further and deeper than any ever. So deep the bottom itself seems endless until... I hold a breath. Or is it that I forget to breathe? In the total darkness— a fading soul shimmer. In its arms, cradled carefully lies a dying flame, an ember losing its last spark. In a storm of ash and rain, the soul sits trying to save what little there is to save, in the darkest night, knee deep in the muddiest waters, barely alive.

“Try this, Hope is the thing with feathers..’” He interrupted with a groan. “You said no bird poems.” “This one’s different,” I said. “It stays in the heart, not in a cage.” He looked up at me, still skeptical but willing. “Fine. But you say the first part.” I did, the lines rolling off my tongue, softer than I meant them to. “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all.”

"Someday , When your body will get tired of lust That day, Your soul will crave for love! Someday, when your soul will crave for a trustful partner That day, you will find the deceitful people around you! Someday, when you will realize the meaning of true love That day , you will see the loneliness inside you and around you! Someday, When your soul will curse you for your deeds That day, you will realize that I had vanished from your life in this thin air!" Adira recited these lines with so much deep expressions on her face. It was looking that these words are coming out from her heart. She was feeling all these words inside her. All the other three went speachless hearing her poetry. Angela

A server walked up to me to guide me to a table. “Once upon a midnight lonely,” I said, suddenly feeling as though I was a man from the nineteenth century. Why Enzo always insisted on a poem I never knew. “She inspires me to write, invading my mind day and through the night as my heart and soul face darkness. I realize our souls together were just a fever dream, but for always in an instant, I swore it was forever.”

How ridiculous! They had ruined me altogether, leaving me with only a battered life that was slowly slipping away. I curled into myself, trying to keep warm. Tears fell silently onto my body. I didn't know where I was. And even if I did, I had no means of moving. All I could do was wait for death to claim me. As the end neared, images from my past flashed through my mind. But I wasn't ready to die yet. Not like this, at least!

Damian's meat soup was very appetizing, Sira shamelessly added more portions and made Damain even more happy because he had succeeded in making Sira recognize his meat soup. The poetry accompanied by the rhythm continued to chant, making everyone immediately carried away by the atmosphere. “Together we face time, Stormy waves, and the noise of the world, You are the harbor of my heart, Where my soul always feels at home. Every second beside you, Is a priceless gift, I want to frame each of your smiles, In an eternal memory, in an unraveling mind. Under the secretive night, We carve endless stories, With love as ink, And heart as sacred paper.

Nate abruptly stopped reading, massaging his temples thinking that he was too mature to believe in such ridiculous tales; nevertheless he continued, hoping to find answers that could help shed some light on things he himself could not explain clearly. “It was said that all souls were set free to roam the earth on this holy night of the dead, returning to their eternal resting place at the crack of dawn, but a soul with a vengeance, a link or a chain bounding them to the land of the living may never find its way back into the gates of the afterlife…. Now what the hell does that mean? Are they saying a bunch of dead people usually wakes up on Peter Pak but if they have unfinished business they

'She' said. "One by one, you followed everything up as it should be. Even your long time enemy who you had changed into a beast to wonder the face of the earth thought that he was going to have his revenge. Little did he know that we were only using him. And now he is dead and gone." 'She' said. "As beasts do not have souls." I said, completing her words. "And how about that herbal woman? I just laughed at her naive behavior. She hadn't even suspected a thing." 'She' said and laughed out loudly.

“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tunes without the words and never stops at all.” Emily Dickinson.

Or is it her that must give something up? Shaking my head I move on to the next part of the poem. We have to choose a bond because her soul is tarnished. I can see the damage because it isn’t all as bright. To share a piece true to heart. I did already share my heart with her so that should be the start. I gave her my love. I have to give her something to stay alive. It couldn’t be my life because if I forfeit that then there is no bond.