Soulful Poems Novels & Stories

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.

"Listen to the sounds of nature. Feel her tranquillity for she speaks to your soul. When you are in misery, in doubt or pain all you need to do is this for your soul lights up to sing and you shall feel it." I try following his words listening to the breeze that makes the leaves dance, the birds whilst they chirp in their nests and the water that gushes forth from the waterfall. But I do not feel it, my soul. Yes, it is calm and peaceful but there is nothing else to it.

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!

Her mother forcibly took her eyes off the necklace she was looking at with admiration. one "Hande, that's beautiful. I never thought about it from your point of view. I wondered how you felt." Hande focused her eyes on the necklace as she held her mother's hand lovingly and smiled. "Maybe I think it's strange. I don't know. I think that those lifeless works have souls. Spirit, heart, language. As for how I feel, it may sound strange to you, but I felt love. The love of the man who made this necklace and the love of the one he loved when he gifted it to his beloved is the deepest part of my heart. I felt it deep inside."

the older man snapped his finger, "you're still alive, dead spirit doesn't have energy colour like yours." So the older man found a protection spell from gods, then he saw Henry's soul was still connected to the world, meaning he was still alive. Henry looked at the toes of his shoes which looked dirty with dust and mud, his heart was beating fast. He could feel the pulse in his neck and the pounding of his heart beating against his ribs. "I- I'm still alive?" "Maybe the answer you are looking for is your memory and where is your body now," Tania's father's statement made Henry's thoughts swirl and feelings mixed.

Pools of ancient water mirrored the half-lit sky, rippling with the breath of something watching. Blotted out—not like the eye of a god, but like the soul of a star turning away. A celestial truth folding inward. As if the universe itself dared not watch what came next. And in that vast, holy shadow, Sniffia arched. Not in pain. In release.

His face contorted into one of discomfort. "Small world." David murmured. Small world, too small for Asher's liking. He had found the girl he missed for so long, but it seemed like she was still miles away from him and forever out of his reach. At that moment all he could think was, fate was truly a cruel and heartless bitch.

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...

With that we talked through the night . There are times that you would close your eyes, Those special memories of me will always bring back a smile, Calling my number repeatedly but with no response , If only you could have me back for just a little while you would say ,When I fade like the shadow of moon or like the whispers of the sea, The times of pain and the days of sorrow ,Miss me a little but not too long ,I want no cries, why cry for a soul gone to a better place, a home built with gold ,The time when living feels like dying ,Miss me but let me go , When I come to the end of the road and the sun has set for me , Miss me but let me go , For this journey is one we all must take , Bury

With that we talked through the night . There are times that you would close your eyes, Those special memories of me will always bring back a smile, Calling my number repeatedly but with no response , If only you could have me back for just a little while you would say ,When I fade like the shadow of moon or like the whispers of the sea, The times of pain and the days of sorrow ,Miss me a little but not too long ,I want no cries, why cry for a soul gone to a better place, a home built with gold ,The time when living feels like dying ,Miss me but let me go , When I come to the end of the road and the sun has set for me , Miss me but let me go , For this journey is one we all must take , Bury