20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


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Wish –

I wish I could sing you the songs of the seasons.
The flaming warm summer, the lively spring.
The coppery transformation of autumn, the silver cool of winter.

I wish I could tell you stories of life and death
The birth of a winged dream,
The sorrows in a serenade.

I wish I can lie beside you.

I wish I could paint you a picture of a morning walk
In the forest where oak trees guard
By the river where the weeping willows bow

I wish I could capture the rays of the sun
A gift threading our memories
An effervescence forever.

I wish I can lie beside you.
Not
Above

I wish I could hum the flowing notes of a nightingale
A lullaby to accompany your dreams
A serenade that melts your heart

I wish I could collect the first drops of dew
To celebrate a fresh. Beginning.
To. Be bound to you. Forever.

I wish upon the stars, upon the bright moon,
I wish upon the fiery sun, upon the light breeze,
I wish upon the rainbow, upon the fluffy clouds,
I wish upon the awakening of buds and the rain showers

I wish I can lie beside you.
Your warmth by mine,
not buried ten feet underground.

that’s the place where dreams die.
Where souls rest.

That’s the place where I want to go.

I plunge a knife a feet into my heart.
I plunge my soul ten feet underground,

I wish I can lie beside you.
I can.

http://www.sorrowsinaserenade.wordpress.com

 

 


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You murderer!

You are a murderer.
Your hands,
Your body, are
Stained with blood
And its rusty copper metallic scent.
Exotic, you say.

Look in your closet,
The evidence is there.
A skeleton.
Declaring your malicious cruelty

You proclaim your elegance,
You say you’re “high-class”
How apt, to live miles away while others do your
Dirty work
To satiate your craving wants.

Your body may rise to the top but your heart remains
Deep deep down, buried under layers of fossils and excrement.
Corrupted. Filthy.

You are a life sucking creature.

You imagine the desperate squealings and
pained moanings,
Yet they are music,
A mere tinkling in the air, another lively piece
By Chopin or Mozart.
The cacophony a harmonious orchestra,
The occasional loud scream a compelling climax

You imagine the blood splattering on the ground
As the knife slices the fur
Yet your dilated pupils register it as art
Another addition to your private collection
of Van Gogh or Picasso.
Abstract splotches on the canvas, perhaps
Depicting the meaning of life.

You imagine a half-dead,”useless” animal
Just a quivering mass of red meat
Yet your mouth senses
The tantalising taste and texture
Of the rabbit meat you had at the ball last night
Succulent, juicy, tender,
Dripping with honey and spices – sweet cinnamon

Your selfish desires strip
Lower creatures of their
Life,
Shed their fuzzy coverings for a coat of blood.

Beneath the innocent, pure white, luxurious fur
Lies a dead animal.
It’s death sentence written since birth -
Guilty, of being itself.

Another family without a father, or a mother, or a child.
Another soul gone
Another life lost -

One that
You
You,
Murdered.


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Terminal

Write On Edge: Red-Writing-Hood

Recently I found this writing community, WriteOnEdge. There’s this writing meme called “Red Writing Hood”, and provides a story prompt every Tuesday. Well I thought since I haven’t wrote prose for a while, I would try it out! So here’s the prompt:

“This week we’d like you to write a fiction or creative non-fiction piece set entirely in an airport. Take us on an adventure in 450 words or less.”

You clutch the rose I gave you tightly, caressing its soft pink, petals. I hide the hot tears in my eyes by giving you a little hug, just like I’ve always done, telling you that I’ll be happy if you are happy. I breathe in your familiar scent, something I will never forget.

I walk beside you as you drag your luggage towards check in, holding your fingers, tickling your palm slightly, just like I’ve always done. You heave your luggage onto the conveyor belt – it’s heavy with all the books and resources you need. You answer the attendant’s questions with curt responses, occasionally stopping to smile at me sadly.

I perch on your arm as you leave the counter. We stroll past the shops in silence, not knowing what to say to each other. I love you? I’ll miss you? Goodbye? Everything seems unnecessary, even awkward.

Soon the time comes for you to leave, to enter those gates. Unknowingly we walk towards the gates, standing in front of it. This is where we say goodbye.

You envelop me into your arms, telling me that you love me and will love me forever. You tell me that you will never forget me. You tell me that once your two years are up, you will be on the first plane back to Maine.

We make a pact to chat every night, at 10.30 p.m. without fail. We will not let country boundaries separate us, separate our love. I chokingly tell you to take care of your health, and not overwork yourself.

We kiss, as though the rest of the world is melted away, and for one moment, there is only you and me. But you and I both know that moment will end.

We pull away slowly, gazing into each other’s eyes. One final hug, and you walk away from me, through security, and through the gates. You turn around when you reach the other side.

With a final wave, you are gone.

on a side note, do read “The Statistical Probability of Love At First Sight“, it’s a contemporary piece about two people who fall in love at an airport, over a few hours! It’s really great! Check it out on GoodReads, in the link above.

http://www.sorrowsinaserenade.wordpress.com


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Autumn

Falling.

Falling.

Into the pit of despair
Into the trough of despondence

The boy fell.

Not a sheer drop nor steep descent
But a slow,
Painful slide.

Not a scream nor a cry
But a chorus of mocking laughter
Accompanying his stifled sobs.

Not a word of comfort nor a gesture of warmth
But a mob of bees, their incessant buzzing
Stinging.

The boy tumbled.

He groped around in darkness, contemplating,
Should I? Should I not?
Eternal confinement, or
Eternal contempt?

He could just end it all.

Stay at the bottom of the pit forever.

Let go of the cruel world.

Just leave.

And in the fall he will burn a bright orange. Glowing with joy.

And after the fall the rest will wilt.

 

 

http://www.sorrowsinaserenade.wordpress.com


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a fun task

Start.
Stop.
Doors open.
Man walks in.

Start.
Stop.
Doors open.
Another
Man walks in.

Start.
Stop.
Doors open.
Man gets down.

Start.
Stop,
Doors open.
Man walks in.

Turn left. Turn right. Go straight.
Go straight. Turn left. Turn right.

Turn left. Turn right. Go straight.
Go straight. Turn left. Turn right.

Same time
Same place
Same lane
The driver leans on his horn.

A blaring noise slices through the air.
Breaking
the operation.

Then,

Start.

Stop.

Doors open.

Man walks in.

disillusionment by the routines of life

 

 

http://www.sorrowsinaserenade.wordpress.com


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Them and Her

They twittered.
They chattered.
They flattered.
They jabbered.
While she sobbed.
They lavished him with praise
They lowered their heads with grace
They put on smiles on their crinkled face
They quickly adjusted to their predefined place
While she stood tall and proud.
They poured tea
They obeyed his decree.
They clapped their hands in harmony
They chose to simply be
While she chose to
Be herself.
Be real.
Never going to cry again,
Never going to let herself go.


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Release

Let it loose.

Flee from bondage like a dove.

Soar like an eagle.

 

It rattle the bars of the cage

A metal trap

It scrapes the sides, it flits from

Top to bottom to left to right

Searching

For an escape.

A gap.

A glint of precious light

 

It yearns for liberation.

 

Knock down the barriers

Towering over your heart,

Closing in

Don’t you feel the claustrophobia?

 

Knock down the barriers

See the beautiful sights that you have missed out on

Above all

 

Release your soul.

 

 

view more at www.sorrowsinaserenade.wordpress.com


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Farewell.

It’s time.

The clocks strike 10 and a half.
It’s our last meeting. Together.

It’s quiet.

Winds blow a sad tune
An eerie song. It rains and
Sky weeps in sorrow.

I hear the chattering of the dust spirits.
Animatedly, discussing their latest
Victims

I smooth the creases on my pretty
Black dress.
Sitting on the bed, decorated with the pretty
White flowers.

A row of soldiers stand proudly before me
The slanting silver of lightning flashes across their faces
Then vanishes -
Their swords sheathed.

I will miss you.
Your warm fluffiness that calmed my paranoia of darkness
Your listening ear that heard
the soft whispers from my heart.

Farewell, Friend,
Farewell, Comforter,
Farewell, Protector.

I thank you, and
I make you an angel.

I cry.

It’s time,
The last time.

I pick up the charred remains
Fondling the broken wings of my unicorn

It flies no more.

 

 

childhood

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