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A collection of poetry.
Author's note:
I hope, people in general, will look at this pieces, and find something that touches them--as it has touched me-- in one way or another.
A darkening creed, whispered before me
It spoke of lies, twisted benevolence, it planted a seed
A seed, said to sprout into a key, and thus free me from this cage
It came not, not once, not ever. The chains, shall naught be severed
Flesh maar; which held a crimson red, and swished in malevolence
This caged bird, never did fly that far. Bounded, by the locked cage.
A thought of freedom, met its way through my eyes,
A faux truth. Binding lies, continued to sprout, and grow within my sight.
The darkening creed, whispered again
Telling me how, it all began. And finally, how it all came to an end.
Lend naught a hand, but consume, within the darkening creed.
A timid child, a smile crested his features
He wore a golden scarf, and a white coat.
The timid child, had but simple sneakers
And but a stuffed bear, to cope.
The timid child, sat in silence, as others chattered
He offered a smile, but knew no hope.
One by one, they all disappeared
Left alone, the timid child; He fiddled with his sleeve.
Then came a single boy, unbelittled by his need.
The single boy, sat next to the timid child, and offered his hand,
A sweet voice, erupted from his pale lips, as they began to stand,
“You can play with us too.” Was all that was heed, banning his bear from his side
As he too, stood with the boy. Faint pinks, spreading across his face; as a wildfire is to a forest,
He nodded vigorously, and soon sparked a fine smile. Hands intertwined, they sung of mayflowers,
Much like a chorus. The timid boy, was no longer timid, by the end of the day.
Life is like a waterfall
We drink from the river, and then we start to fall.
Drowning out the noises, from head to toe, was covered in blue
Panic, washed away. It was only then, we flew
We flew, like the blue birds in the sky; just like the blue fish in the water
Death is like flying
We fly in the sky, and then we start to fall.
We slowly wash away those dying breaths; and reverberate a sound of life
Tis’ when, we start to climb the waterfall, and start anew.
I know, your sickening heart traces along the laces of hate
I know, the thieving person you’re really out to be
And it poisons my very soul - Oh no, seems you cannot see.
Drowning in your own greed – Oh my, I know who you’re really out to be.
Disdaining my trust
Your impious lust
It blights, it must
Oh, dust to dust
Ignoramus tool
I’ll bring about the dull
I’ll cut you out, and gouge your eyes
Oh yes, it won’t be all too pretty
You’ll be wasting away with the flies
And I’ll be here, sharpening the knife
I know, your sickening heart traces along the laces of hate
I know, the thieving person you’re really out to be
And it poisons my very soul - Oh no, seems you cannot see.
Drowning in your own greed – Oh my, I know who you’re really out to be.
You can lie to my heart
And I’ll bring the end
It's never the end, I'll be here
in your head, in your fears
death can take me -- it's never over
sever my chains, I'll be here
You could stream a thousand tears
You could live a thousand years
I'll be here
waiting to kill
I am a scavenger
a vulture if you will
It's never the end, I'll be here
Crawling in your head, ready to steal
the one thing you stole from me,
I plead, I damn, yet you had my heart in your hand
It's never the end, I'll be here
With your heart in my hand
It's mine now, I claimed it back.
Your limp body, it has lack
Just like when you was there, I'll be here
That's when it all goes black
And you'll be waiting next.
I require a surging push
Oh, that curing touch
I retire of the purging thought
Oh, that churning—hush.
Remedies won’t fix me
I’ll still be seething
Oh, healing touch
Oh, killing – hush
Every scar one day will heal
Every tear one day will seal
Every smile one day will fade still
Every word one day will still feel
Every scar one day will finally kill
I require a surging push
Oh, that curing touch
I retire of the purging thought
Oh, that churning—hush.
Remedies won’t fix me,
Forever in a comatose
Remedies won’t fix me,
Without the searing pulse.
Remedies won’t fix me,
With the daring morose
Remedies won’t fix me.
You can’t fix me.
Night takes the day
As the thieving hand takes the might
Heretic fools, blight my sight
With their secret little lies
Little marionette, I’ve strung your strings
Passion play, sip from the spoon of kings
Little marionette, dance for your master
I’ve got you trapped, you shan’t escape my disaster
Unruly obstructions,
Untrue perfections,
Unhealthy obsession,
Life possession
The minister certainly strung those strings,
He simply drank from the spoon of wise kings
Promised the marionette to dance,
In exchange to break that virginity glass
Sinister vocation of the vile minister
Mister, bow your head and pray for the dead
Mister, bow your head, and pray for my sister
Mister, take a bow to stop that mean ol’ minister.
Mister, mister,
Won’t you?
It been 10 year, since the decease of my sibling
It been 10 year, of long pain and suffering
It been 10 year, I’ve been alone, playing with myself
It been 10 year, I’ve succumb to the darkening creed
It been 10 year, I’ve never been able to find oneself
It been 10 year, since I’ve tread that path
It been 10 year, it been 10 year…
It been 15 year, that I’ve married my husband
It been 15 year, that I’ve gone without prayer
It been 15 year, that I’ve seen that delicate face of yours, dear.
It been 15 year…It been 15 year.
It been 30 year, I’ve nearly forgotten your features
It been 30 year, I’ve now two children, each born on the day of Easter.
It been 30 year, I’ve last seen you.
It been 30 year…It been 30 year.
It been 50 year, I’m old, wilting, waiting
It been 50 year, that I’ve come to realize…To stabilize.
It been 50 year, and it won’t be 50 more.
It been 50 year, and I plant my grave stone, to reach those skies of your
It been 50 year, I’m no longer here.
I know I'm not seen, incorporeal
Should I even try to be to be real?
I look around, and everything is surreal
I try to hang on, yet I wasn't really heard
You know the deal - no one gives a damn
I'm just another soul, to be damned
Dull colours in hand, there's no colours
Just another sob story, throw the flowers
I know I'm not seen, Incorporeal
Should I even try to be to be real?
I look around, and everything is surreal
I try to hang on, yet I wasn't really heard
Tripped over, like it's nothing
It's not nothing, it's something
something, that should mean something
But it doesn't. It's humiliating
I can't face the melodies
my heart is as fragile as glass
I'm forever in pain
Don't you see that's it's stained?
...I forgot, you can't see me, I'm just another nobody.
I wish I could be seen, loved, just like honey
I want to scream, mutilate, destroy my face
I don't want to be invisible: Please open my case!
Hiding beneath the knife in my room
I carved my pain within
No one will notice anyway: None too soon
I need to stop being a sin sin sin
I know I'm not seen, incorporeal
Should I even try to be to be real?
I look around, and everything is surreal
I try to hang on, yet I wasn't really heard
Too many feelings, gone without
My frail heart of glass; there-out; I shatter to fast.
My invisible soul: Without; out to be cast.
My lifeless body doesn't hear out; it's all slack.
Will I finally be heard? Will I radiate with colour?
Will you look at me? Will you listen to me?
It really is just another sob story; there aren't any flowers
I don't really have any keys; I really won't be seen: It never changes.
In the darkest of days
I lay, building my fingers over another.
In the time of thought, alone, forever
I couldn’t banish the howling, in my head
In the darkest of days
I turn on my side, staring at the grey wall
I cower, unable to tarnish this howling
Hallucinations, take my sight; farewell.
In the darkest of days
I let my inner demons run wild
Watch as they trample in fire
Feel as they whisper into my ear; a liar
In the darkest of days
I never knew, what it meant to be free
I always knew, what I was meant to be
Through and through, I tire of the same thing
In the darkest of days
My demons spoke to me, once more
They told me of the good, and the bad
They took what I had as a core
And left what was sad
In the darkest of days
I wish it were just that
Never to feel, never to know
Just to bend, and finally stay still
I ask my seven sins, to kill no more.
In the darkest of days
I wish it were the light
I wish it were the bright
I wish it were the light, the bright, fill my sight.
In the darkest of days
I lay in bed
I lose my inspiration
I lay in bed
I lose respiration.
I lay in bed
I lay in bed, in the darkest of days.
Hushed white free fall, touched in fluidity, lavish from the heavens
Trifled, flushed breaths escape the pale lips of my own – The cold breaks upon my flesh
Quiescent limbs, incentive enervated, I awaited the taciturn snow to blemish my heart.
Fortification--bastion of white, suspend over me – Clasped, in its unforgiving tide.
Equilibrium percolate from the edges of my mind – sweeping away, like the very storm, upon myself.
Dismal grey, pierce through the tones of my senses, blanketing out all color. A soundless body, were I.
Melancholy, sung its woe as the white, daubed the sky, and now myself. Repentance, fading away, like the autumn leaves are to a winter solace.
Silence, is all that fogs above the ground now.
I avow to nothing
Yet the hate keeps running
It feigns of loafting
It lurks, cunning
Your sate-filled craving, never dries empty
Hate-filled beating, my bones are limpy
This consuming divide, crumbles simply
I raise my head for the high above
Watched as we all succumb to the lingering lies
I am sure of, discret flies, for none.
We inherit the vice
Weapons rushed in blood
I raise my head for the high above
My prayer a blessed heed thereof
Suicide, forever
My name, erased
My sins, thin laced
My existence, serrated and jagged.
Those who join me,
Innocents, gone
Homicide, a song,
A song, sung,
And hung away -- Just like me.
Ticking, tock, goes the clock
Time runs loosely, through my fingers
My demise is nigh, I swollen with shock
Run, I must, I must escape time
Time would never give a dime, it never were too kind
I run, I must, pace on, to the end of time
The floor escapes from underneath, I run away from time
My last chapter is upon me; I abide to naught, I run, I must
My final chapter, will not be the final chapter
My life, will not be the end of life; but I run, I must—the final chapter is not the final chapter
Keep my book open; never turn the page; let me stale
I wish to linger, but soon find my body is rejecting
The clock is ticking, and time never escapes
My luck is clicking, and time now forsakes
The clock is ticking, and now my chapter ends
My luck is clicking, and never opens again.
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