New laconic Quotes, Status, Photo, Video

Zumi

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*Of Anagapesis and Laconic Love* Those poems shine in dern- The darkness of my own fears, A sciamachy rides me, as I sit To write another laconic poem, With my black ink of grief, on The pages of a withered petal Of red rose which was our love. Laconic love. Anagapesis. Period. //Caption *Of Anagapesis and Laconic Love* Why do I feel like a poem incomplete, left to rust, by the agents of time and love and oblivion? Why d

*Of Anagapesis and Laconic Love* Those poems shine in dern- The darkness of my own fears, A sciamachy rides me, as I sit To write another laconic poem, With my black ink of grief, on The pages of a withered petal Of red rose which was our love. Laconic love. Anagapesis. Period. //Caption *Of Anagapesis and Laconic Love* Why do I feel like a poem incomplete, left to rust, by the agents of time and love and oblivion? Why d

Anuj Jain

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Reason it's Haiku Disinterested am I No, Laconic I'm Bonjour Stitchers 🙋🏻 Stitch up a beautiful poem titled "Laconic". Laconic: Using very few words. The best one shall be featured. 💐

Reason it's Haiku Disinterested am I No, Laconic I'm Bonjour Stitchers 🙋🏻 Stitch up a beautiful poem titled "Laconic". Laconic: Using very few words. The best one shall be featured. 💐

Nojoto Art

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Kristina Alisauskaite is a painter of the young generation and an active participant of group exhibitions who has also held several solo sho

Kristina Alisauskaite is a painter of the young generation and an active participant of group exhibitions who has also held several solo sho

Zumi

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#Day45 They say, You become What you Write, But what If I write What I Actually am? //Caption // Laconic // They say, You become What you Write, But what If I write

#Day45 They say, You become What you Write, But what If I write What I Actually am? //Caption // Laconic // They say, You become What you Write, But what If I write

Miss xyz

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Laconic: A short conversation (Read in caption) Connecting the horizon of life on my palm, I got him in my small universe. His universe was never defined nor I mended it to create one. B

Laconic: A short conversation (Read in caption) Connecting the horizon of life on my palm, I got him in my small universe. His universe was never defined nor I mended it to create one. B

marmalade ツ

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°° Goodbye to you °° With briar roses & white lillies, I say goodbye but masked faces & wet eyes hide this goodbye. As a vagrant's caravan

°° Goodbye to you °° With briar roses & white lillies, I say goodbye but masked faces & wet eyes hide this goodbye. As a vagrant's caravan

marmalade ツ

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°°The Last Autumn Night°° 'Why' was never the question, even though the answer was a goodbye. 'Stay' was never the wish, and neither the want was a day. The grass, with its soft dew caresses my hair which rest on it. Some twigs nearby tried to call upon the yellow leaves but they had already gone too far to return and I had already followed them so far to end. | caption | °The Last Autumn Night°° 'Why' was never the question, even though the answer was a goodbye. 'Stay' was never the wish, and neither the wan

°°The Last Autumn Night°° 'Why' was never the question, even though the answer was a goodbye. 'Stay' was never the wish, and neither the want was a day. The grass, with its soft dew caresses my hair which rest on it. Some twigs nearby tried to call upon the yellow leaves but they had already gone too far to return and I had already followed them so far to end. | caption | °The Last Autumn Night°° 'Why' was never the question, even though the answer was a goodbye. 'Stay' was never the wish, and neither the wan

marmalade ツ

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°°All That Remains°° | caption | °°All That Remains°° The mirror has broken. And, parts of it lie hither & thither like the feathers of peacock after being shed. I see myse

°°All That Remains°° | caption | °°All That Remains°° The mirror has broken. And, parts of it lie hither & thither like the feathers of peacock after being shed. I see myse

marmalade ツ

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The Poet's Paradise... The words echo in the hollow valleys of depth, the deafness vibrates into the poem's rhythm... // Caption // The Poet's Paradise... The words echoe in the hollow valleys of depth, the deafness vibrates into the poem's rhythm... The darkness sings

The Poet's Paradise... The words echo in the hollow valleys of depth, the deafness vibrates into the poem's rhythm... // Caption // The Poet's Paradise... The words echoe in the hollow valleys of depth, the deafness vibrates into the poem's rhythm... The darkness sings

marmalade ツ

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The Torn Violin... No, I can't tear the strings Of that violin; Which get plucked with Utmost silence... ( Hear the verses' song in the caption) The Torn Violin... No, I can't tear the strings Of that violin; Which get plucked with Utmost silence... The once melodious tunes

The Torn Violin... No, I can't tear the strings Of that violin; Which get plucked with Utmost silence... ( Hear the verses' song in the caption) The Torn Violin... No, I can't tear the strings Of that violin; Which get plucked with Utmost silence... The once melodious tunes