Moon Desert
Bio
UK-based
BA in Cultural Studies
Crime Fiction: Love
Poetry: Friend
Psychology: Salvation
Where the wild roses grow full of words...
Stories (961)
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the curse of loneliness
so there are they and me sitting on the other side of the rainbow in reversed chairs it's a place where no one dares to look because they're afraid of seeing something that could shatter their perspective that's why their point of view remains stagnant untouched for decades they've buried themselves in the shadows of their shallow existence relentlessly pursuing the goals of the next generation while neglecting their own it's as if they gave up on their own lives the moment they created their younger reflection in the mirror and that's something I'll never understand
By Moon Desertabout a year ago in Poets
my second life
I alone venture to the places where nobody dares to glance where I witness the sight of ugliness or shame suppressed deep within revealing itself here I witness strips of exquisite beauty concealed beneath a veil of grey there is much to be said about these neglected gardens and weathered walls adorned with worn-out blue wooden doors that stretch along desolate side streets unseen by others it is only me captivated by the peculiar afternoon light casting eerie shadows upon the cemetery of forsaken souls poised to embark on yet another journey devoid of even a glimmer of hope
By Moon Desertabout a year ago in Poets
Joseph’s Soup
Once, as I sat near the bustling grocer's market, a vibrant scene unfolded before me. Amid her circle of friends, there she stood - an enchanting Asian beauty. Her slanted eyes sparkled with a captivating allure, drawing me closer. A cascade of lustrous, ebony hair flowed down her back, framing her delicate features. She envisioned loveliness, while I, a mere spectre, felt insignificant in her radiant presence. After that faintest moment, she slipped away from my sight, leaving me to ponder her whereabouts for an eternity.
By Moon Desertabout a year ago in Psyche
the luxury of loneliness
so there is an emptiness of space and abundance of thoughts flowing on constant mood swings there are no words too many words too many bad connections and good connotations there is past and future never present oh what a desert there are only lonely dinners breakfasts lunches and suppers there are as many signals as one can master mustering up courage to all invisible tasks that meant to lead somewhere yet in the end they led exactly nowhere like an express train crashing into lights and moods there are seam strips from torn jeans and t-shirts remembering decades when we were still young and pretty strips of fabric worn out too fast to count them all in this perpetual stream of thoughts whispers of yet undiscovered worlds
By Moon Desertabout a year ago in Poets
