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Bryn Kennell Jul 2020
When I put out the light
They all take flight
Even my shadow leaves at night
This is my plight
Sanjana Jun 2020
This is the journal of the dead,
The one that reads of misery and plight.
Pain, sorrow, tears un-wiped.
Will, I read it? Yes, I might!

He smiled and laughed through the unhappiness received,
He probably forgot that eyes could deceive.

He drank champagne till his empty heart-filled,
His soul wasn't empty, filled with guilt.

His skin was embellished with cuts and scars,
His mind within him ripped him apart.

He walked till the end, till the edge of every cliff,
Through paths lit with fires and lanes filled with pyres.

He waited for long and lost everything coming along,
Broken pieces un-joint, falling way behind time.

He cried and wept through every coming night,
Till his face turned pale and tears were denied.

He had to depart with a smile on his face,
It was finally the end, of an unendurable phase.

This is the journal of the dead,
Of the one that cried, but never lied.
Of the one broken, yet the one who never broke.
Of the one that died, leaving all behind.
The sufferings of a man through out his life until he rested in peace at the end.
VKBoy Feb 2020
Tonight
There’s nothing bright
To warm us on this windy night.
So let us not fight
But instead use our smite
To turn this naked plight
Into a cozy ordeal outright.
"When you can’t have everything, you yield and make use of what you have."
- Sinario Vesta, Shambala Sect
Khoisan Feb 2020
As they face another wall
my eyes are in a river
and my face a waterfall
I see children begging
in the street
I hear their hearts
can you feel the heat
a penny for your thoughts
please embrace the need
and attend to the beat
If at that moment you have to spare
apply the principle of giving God will
take care of the rest.
Proctor Ehrling Nov 2019
Left hope behind
Abandoned fights
All vicious signs
Of savage plights

Felt like a flea
A parasite
All savage plea
To savage plight

Oh Sisyphus
Exhausted might
Lay in a hearse
Oh savage plight

Heathen in prayer
God-given right
Sign of the lair
Of savage plights

A crimson snow
And eyes of white
But don't you know
These savage plights

By Doom's own herald, God's own **** creatures all collide
Like ole rye barrelled, seasoned to withstand savage plights

Let woman cry
Let man be scorned
Let savage plights
Shut closing doors

He'll will stay frozen
Heaven forlorn
The savage chosen
***** of Babylon

Live off of plights
All but one savage
Dragged day and night
Your horseless carriage

Call it a burden
That is your right
One thing's for certain
It's savage plights

With mind so prurient
Give humans blights
From West to Orient
Come savage plights

Dorian-like picture on the wall, too mild a fighter for a knight
Was God-forsaken, after all, dealt sole with and to others each a savage plight
It's rare for me to actually write something complete and not an on-the-spot random blabber. Here it is. Decipher it at your own leisure.
Alan S Bailey Oct 2019
If one is at an obstacle of an imposing sort
or with any other side step made, this state,
to find a way past each of these, in this life's
dangerous maze, somehow without mistake.

It's just that I've always stumbled
when I see that it's so **** far,
way beyond this side of the dark,
someone give me a way to find
the other side in the light,
if that is what it is, if this some
strange curse, a bad plight.

...or is it a greater truth?

Perhaps the "Gods are playing a trick
on me?" Or perhaps there is no way back
or forward. I look back at yesterdays
pain and see it's staring back.
Please.

Death is a visage we all put aside until
it is right there and there's no way
to avoid it. Just happen to be able
to keep running...unavoidable,
This and that. Stunning. I will write, I will
work, I will not hide. Eventually we all
have to face it, and sooner or later
we all have to try to fight it.
It's that stone cold that hangs over
you even with vices. They just happen to
be able to visualize a nicer tomb
than was waiting for you. I guess
that was worth all the human sacrifices.
Just thought I'd give it a whirl. It's been a while since I wrote...
If you only knew the extent of my death
you would run away from my plight
And never look back
Death be not proud
S Bharat Apr 2019
The Sparrow

I desired to be loved
and flew down to them
They were so kind that
They just fondled and
Set me free to fly away.

S. Bharat
Em MacKenzie Dec 2018
Tell me Pluto,
how does it feel
to be told you’re a planet for years
and then labelled as an accessory for our solar system?
But also, to be reassured, that although you’re small,
you’re just as good as the rest,
and endearingly enough,
someone’s favourite planet?

And while you sit on the outskirts,
in the far, vast, pitch black
edges of a far brighter galaxy than you,
do you marvel at the beauty and size
of every other planet judged more
legitimate and important than you,
and do you make friends with the microscopic stars?

You are told you aren’t what you are,
and you are what you aren’t,
I wouldn’t blame you for drifting further,
I think I would probably do the same.
But know some are very passionate
about your state in our galaxy,
many people believe you to be of importance;
whether it’s nostalgia, empathy or just fear of change.
Regardless, you have a small army
of people who are very vocal,
about your right to be alongside with all the other planets.

Just because you’re small
and not as visually appealing as the rest,
or because you’re pushed to the coldest, darkest regions of space, does not make you deserving of isolation.
Infact, it makes you more worthy of adoration.
For you Pluto, for all the hardships
and all the abandonment you have felt,
you have never told another planet they themselves,weren’t real,
and you’ve never drawn anyone close to you,
to suffer in your loneliness.
It made more sense in my thoughts. I’d label this one a fail for the message conveyed and the feelings translated.
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