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Naive_Vigilante
Naive_Vigilante
20/M/Iran Spend happiness on life, Spend sadness and negativity on poems
His feet trembling And my tongue sticking out His breath numbered Ant dancing in my hand My blood too sweet Heart wrinkled in cold sweat Cold gaze on his face as I constantly made him fret His heart too sweet and His blood to sour for my tongue These ants too sour for The blood on my palm This skin too pale for The radiance in his eyes This chest too open For someone to hide inside Gave me his heart he who Had none for himself Took my blue heart and Stuffed it into his chest My eyes shift into focus His chubby face is too dumb The subway station too cold My skin was too numb
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Aug 31, 2019
Aug 31, 2019 at 10:18 AM UTC
Perverted sympathy
Here in the wasteland Swarming Cold Gazed with locked doors The shadows of your frail body Scared me Imminent contagion The land opened its mouth To swallow the town I would've felt bad for the mayor If he had treated us with an ounce of respect Our dry throats singing broken tones Like a detuned string Air comes out foul and distorted The hymns were sang and The souls ripe with hope Danced Instinctive motion Of the universe Laughed My gaze was extinguished
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Jul 5, 2019
Jul 5, 2019 at 11:45 AM UTC
A Broken Spirit
The gentle spring breeze cuddles and caresses your skin Sun bathes its light in the sea And beyond the clouds lies the god's grin To not be buried in all these pleasures Is a sin As the demons are born from metal pipes The trees dance with the wind until their necks break Sun bathes its light in the dirt And beyond smoke and gas lies god's wake Let us bury ourselves in all this pleasure For our sake As the demons are born from artificial volcanoes Warm and filled with fiery toxins Earth has evolved into a stranger form And we were but an echo
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Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 1:12 PM UTC
Pleasures of Earth
While plucking petals from the calendar The asphalt still smells the same The moon still shines sideways And the green of trees is stale While plucking petals from the calendar The smoke still smells the same Shadows still dance in alleyways And the artificial light is faint While plucking petals from the calendar Liars still paint their tongues like peacocks Colorful words still remain feather light And a dead light is still bright at night While plucking petals from the calendar The days keep getting more and more slender Hours are condensed into a jumbled cluster And the ashes of past still smoulder
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Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 3:16 PM UTC
Ashes of time
What would happen If a giant eye suddenly existed in the sky Watched us through its bottomless iris? What would happen If the same giant eye Suddenly started melting And rained its moist mucus On our frail beings? What would happen If eyes sprouted From the mucus that watered our body? The eyes Would serve as a crime Against nature But who are we To define nature What is nature to begin with? What would happen If the world changed Beyond our control? Nothing We either die Or we co-exist
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Mar 29, 2019
Mar 29, 2019 at 11:06 AM UTC
Collective Idiocy
I look back Nothing Concepts orbiting in an isolated space The empty air smells like uncertainty Droning like distant dissonant shouts from outer space A train of meaningless code flows life-likely Through a pit in my stomach The darkest black hole is an orb made of heaviest matter possible Condensed and concentrated nothingness It's track is not set on a straight line Neither is it blurry It's thin and wiggly It's cut to a thousand pieces Scattered through time and space And I have built an empire upon it called life And I know it will crumble under its own weight Spires Spikes of life called memories soar high on a brittle foundation And at the core Overloads and explodes A single node Overthinking and overheating until it blows Functions recursively until it breaks Nothing flows I look back Still nothing
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Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 6:17 AM UTC
As far as I see
Feel helpless Ask for help From the figureless man Supposing he resides Somewhere in the sky With a giant Helping hand That only comes into existence When you decide When you feel your most selfish When you cling most To your meaningless life Next time Don't ask Break the paradigm Accept your fate And die
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Mar 10, 2019
Mar 10, 2019 at 4:25 PM UTC
Sever the helping hand
Shaparak's flying too close to the candle Film is paused The memories die when the cinema is caught on fire The tapes lie when a black cloth veils the lens The eyes blind on purpose when a soul caught on fire Is taunting your dependence on your fragile life Do you love yourself more or your children or your wife? The choice is yours, who's gonna be set on fire? The choice is yours, will you fly close to the fire? The sun is a lie, it's just an cognitive illusion The life malformed, an unholy fusion The moon is hung from the gallows of the sky Taunting the fragile existance of life with a faint still smile
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Mar 10, 2019
Mar 10, 2019 at 4:45 AM UTC
Growing tangled
I kept reaching further Further down and deeper Into my soul Scratching For bits of gold Scratching from inside Hacking off small pieces of life Excavate cravingly Hungry for a piece of myself that meant something A piece that was worth something So I could exchange it for forbidden pleasures Scratch and scrape everyday Wounding and eating like a pig, any day Rainy or foggy Blue or yellow I scratched and degraded Until nothing remained but a shadow An empty husk that was once I Remains Remnants of myself
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Mar 9, 2019
Mar 9, 2019 at 8:56 AM UTC
Gold Digging
Death Starts with panic Ends with never-ending peace Dying Will grant you access Pain Will fill your absence
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Feb 2, 2019
Feb 2, 2019 at 8:06 AM UTC
One of many