Oculus

Circling this holy tomb,
We sharpen our spears.
The rising blood moon,
Is destined to appear.

The night is stretched,
Across these shadows.
Demons so wretched,
Stoke rage with bellows.

The hole you’re left with,
Engraved upon the heart.
Is the window; too stiff,
To let life take a start.

Tear the curtains apart,
Smash the window panes.
Mend your bloody heart,
Hold on till you’re sane.

-Nameera.

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12 Comments

    1. Nameera says:

      Thank you so much!!

      Like

  1. I really love this. ๐Ÿ’—

    A poem about heartbreak with a touch of the gothic and Edgar Allan Poe’s writings.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Nameera says:

      Wow. Thank so so much!! Edgar Allan Poe is my favorite poet (:

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Nameera says:

      Thanks!! ๐Ÿ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

  2. poetryfromtheinkwell says:

    Some great lines here, especially โ€˜the night is stretched across these shadowsโ€™. Sometimes we have to break those windows that are too stiff to open. Only then can we begin to heal and allow new love to take root. Beautiful poetry.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Nameera says:

      Ah yes indeed. Thank you so much! Means a lot coming from you ๐Ÿ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

      1. poetryfromtheinkwell says:

        You are kindly welcome ๐Ÿ™‚

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Jaya Singh says:

    You are really good at both drawing and writing. ๐Ÿ™ƒ

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Nameera says:

      Thank you so much!! โœจ

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Jaya Singh says:

        The pleasure is mine ๐Ÿ–ค

        Liked by 1 person

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