He is the sun to my sky
He is the air that I breathe
He is the wind blowing through my hair
He is the music of my soul
He is the beat of my heart
He is my castle
He is my strength
He is my life
He is my love
Colorful dresses and splendid masks
Dance with me before the night is gone
Right now the colors are making me dizzy
I want to escape it all for one night
Me and You
Together swirling under the night sky
I need to know who you are
Take off the mask tonight
I need to know the girl behind the mask
The little doll her favorite toy. The doll's color faded, full with patches almost everywhere. She is "The Sleeping Beauty" as you call her. She is always with you, you can't sleep without her. Sometimes, I associate you with this fairytale. I just want to imagine that someday, you will wake up from your lethargy. Sweetheart..
You are one with my heart. I'm happy every day I come to see you, to play with you, to comb you hair, to get you in the garden to welcome the spring, the summer, the autumn, the winter. I would never let you do it alone. Your parents stopped coming everyday. They left their hopes behind. It's understood after those yea
The first letter I received from you was in the fourth grade, do you remember?
It was a message written in orange, on a wrinkled piece of papper, which you ripped out from your book. At this was written : "Do you want to be friends?"
Our friendship kept very long, we grew up but there were still notes coming up. It became a habbit. As time went on, we exchanged more and more messages. It was our way to communicate. Noone could ever find out what we were saying. It was something for us. I looked forward for each little note you folded carefully.
One day, I found a letter from you in my bag. You said: "you are the best friend I've
Death, the end of life
Is it really as nice as people say?
Do you lose you worries?
Your fears?
Are you loved?
Or are you subject to torture
The torture you deserve from actions you have taken
Do you get pain?
Do you continue you life happy in spirit form?
Do you float away knowing everything will be be alright?
Or do you continue to exist in agony
My breath is slowing
I worry about what's to come
Do I simply stop existing?
Or do I get reborn
Are my bones held sacred?
Or are they bled dry
Should I worry about what's to come?
Will I continue in an eternity with my soul on fire
Will I burn in a fiery hell, and be forever tort
Macabre V: The Hypocrite by moonsamurai, literature
Literature
Macabre V: The Hypocrite
to get a better understanding, read the 'author's comments'. thank you.
"Originality is sold "en gros"!
Bright metaphors are out of stock!"
Command your troops to proceed!
No matter if they are blue or pink
Order them to split their blood
On shivering sheets of ink!
"The second cold war is not over!"
Your chocolate hair kidnapped me,
the venom of your lips is sweet
but who will once again kiss YOU -
such a profane piece of meat?
"Blasphemous thoughts
arouse obscene desires!"
No matter if you remember or not..
At first you really lit up my fires!
Still..I'll stay blissfully cold..
Don't want to disappoint your desires
but
i hate
feelings
i hate
how i'm hit in the face
hard
a rush of tension
raw
so i write
like i'm writing for my life
i pour
i spill
guts
dressed pretty
looking sharp
but all in all still guts
with bloo
The mystery of a poem.
I've always wondered what makes a poem different. Is it nothing more then someone hitting the ENTER button more often than usual?
Logic says yes, but emotions say otherwise.
This is free verse. This is freedom.
It's all relative. It affects each being differently.
Each time I hit that key, each time I give myself a new line, I create freedom.
No. Freedom cannot be created, only given.
I give freedom to my thoughts, my emotions. This paper is one of many outlets.
My thoughts, my emotions are trapped within my mind.
So are the thoughts of many others.
And this is where they are free. This is where the world c
Macabre IV: The Mediocre by moonsamurai, literature
Literature
Macabre IV: The Mediocre
For those who have a dream in front
No hindrance can occur.
For those who have to learn to love
No eyes will be a-blur.
For those who live to strike the sky
No power shall retain.
For those who trust in spades of dust
No value shall remain.
But you!
Who are you?
And how come you even dare?
You - the one who learns to fly
Putting on leaden illusions.
You the one who tends to cry
Of grace and honour. Deaf confusions
You - the one who dreams to lie
Upon your frozen enemies. Intrusion!
You the one who dies to die
On golden leaves of wrath and the conclusion
Is injust.
No need. Do not admit your s
You look me over
And you turn away
You lead my heart
Into silent decay
'Cause you want something beautiful
Want something beautiful
You want something beatiful
So you look away
Well, this I call passion
This I call real
Are you ready to see me?
Are you ready to feel?
But you don't see anything
You don't see anything
No, you don't see anything
'Cause you don't see me
You speak such wise words
But won't believe what I say
Think you've got to hold out
For some brighter day
'Cause you want something real
Want something real
You want something real
But you turn away
And, this I call passion
This I call real
Are you ready