Poetry With Soul Novels & Stories

Backing her up against the door, his lips crashed against her, her body still in shock seeing him in her room, her body still, his hands trailed, starving for her touch, didn’t move, his teeth caught her lower lip, the sting of it taking her out of the shock, she pushed him away with all her strength. “You fucking idiot.” She cursed, and he laughed “Anything for you.”his hands went around her throat, “Yay, idiot for this,” his lips sucked at her neck, slowly trailing up to her soft spot he whispered, “Just give in, baby drop the facades, that’s for the world.” “We are above, it baby, we are the pieces of soul together, that reunited.” “You wrote poetry.” her lips part, she didn’t realised sh

“As for the food, it is for a niece.” “That is wonderful, helping your sibling out with their kid. I love my new nephew, he is adorable beyond reason. When he was born, a little bit of my soul flew out to guard him, like an angel, I think. Look at me! Becoming a poet for the love of a baby. Must be my maternal instincts. Sorry if that was saccharine.” “It was the truth. We both have precious things our souls guard.” “You are completely right.”

His grandmother had said that it had been what had helped her come to the acceptance that she would never have emotions, the things she said made up the soul; the one thing that cannot be faked. The soul, she had said, was the one thing needed for any good artist. One could not simply play a song and affect people with it. It was what made the great minstrels of history. While some inspired the few, others inspired the many. The pieces were made of soul and took soul to replicate. Thus, the greater the piece, the greater the soul.

He had always been the heart of the army, the one to rally the troops when morale faltered, but now, even his resolve was being tested. Veyra's voice cut through the silence like a blade. "The poison that runs through our ranks is not just in the body. It is in the mind, in the very soul. It spreads through fear and doubt. We will not let it take hold. We will root it out, and we will burn it from our midst." Her words were fierce, her tone commanding, and for a moment, the air seemed to crackle with the power of her conviction.

That damned poem, that annoying Monk Deva Pran’s gift… …But hearing her now, her voice low and steady— I knew this was no theater. “Breathe like a flame that remembers its fire, Still as the root that outlasts the spire. Unhook the weight where memory clings, Let silence unfold your spirit’s wings. The soul is a shadow that longs to roam, Follow the pulse that calls you home. Rise on wings to claim the throne, Or let your spirit cling to bone.” She wasn’t reciting, she was becoming.

The day didn't pass... The hours..didn't fly.. The minutes..didn't pause... The heart didn't beat till the time I didn't miss you, You were my soul.. My heart... My forever.. But now my body is just a mere ashes.. Living without you in the bare land.. With no signal of love, Wandering all around the dessert looking for the water.. Water of love And more especially you. ____________________________________________________

The most astonishing thing was that every title tried to minister to me so much more that I was confused. There is a poem titled 'HOPE', there was 'VAGUE AS AIR', 'DEATH AND IT'S PEACE' and other incredible poems all written by Trevor. I read each poem and felt as if he was talking to me directly. His choice of words, sentence construction and presentation of life scenarios embedded in words is just beautiful. Now this guy was not just a devilishly handsome man with a great sense of humor but a writing god. Then I came across the piece I termed my best. I read it over and over again muttering each line. The poem is titled 'SPEAK TO YOURSELF' and it reads thus...

I became so stiff buckling so hard. It was so intense, I felt like my soul left my body and went to heaven. I saw stars behind my eyelids so bright, blinding me. " I am never going to forget this beautiful sight which I am seeing today," Ezra said in awe with big eyes grinning sheepishly. " Woowww, just wowww." I can't even form words properly due to the first orgasm of my life. I pulled my body in a sitting position and I can see the desire in Ezra's eyes and how he is holding himself from devouring me right now. He has given me the best orgasm of life and I want to give him something best too.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, story, places and events are products of the author's creativity or are used fictionally. Any similitude to actual events or locales or individuals, living or dead, is totally coincidental. First of all I must appreciate this app for providing me the platform, there I can pen down and I can write my imaginations. I wanted to say, what is in your destiny you will find it anyway. Sometimes things seem against us and against our desires and everything seems out of orbit, but afterwards we realize why was it like that. Everything happens for a reason. We just need to understand and have patience.

Rolling gently up to repeatedly break upon Magical banks girdling Nivians lakeshore. For what be this odd muse That upon my aging senses does so readilyEnthuse...And to my inner soul so inextricably Implore? Ahhh...But this much I may be allowed to Say, Before darkly gathering skies extinguish Over weak flames of the last spluttering Ray, Perhaps it is our inner voice That seeks out the solitudes of Tranquilities choice - To witness and record and dutifully store... Those rare and fleeting moments We all too briefly adore.