In the old house up the hills -
Yes, the one that gives you chills
Whenever you walk by its fence -
Lives someone who, no offense,
Looks like she'd puts kids on grill.
Children, puppies, all she'd ****
For food.
Lady who, probably, likes to
Know the places each kid hikes to.
There she, later in the day,
Waits for village kids to stray.
Some will die and some live on.
Who? That really depens on
Her mood.
Some say that she used to snitch,
Others say that she's a witch!
Nobody was ever in
The house whose walls are made of skin.
Nobody would ever dare
To set their foot on the porch where
She stood.
They'll never know that her kitchen
Smelled like flowers, most bewitchin',
They won't see her paintings, neat,
Her living room where you could meet
A fire giving warm embrace.
And alongside her fireplace
The wood.
Now, if you got in, you'd stare
on stinky fish bowls, everywhere,
whose cloudy water calls for changing,
and rooms in need of rearranging.
But since you never really tried,
No one knows the lady died.
Yes she's dead for good.
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 1:07 AM UTC
She's coughing blood
So i boil some water
Squeezed from the mud
Used for slaughter
Horrible cries
Coming to my ears
From where she lies
The girl in tears
What kind of power
does a powerless flower
have?
The power of showing its music to the deaf.
So mabye the wreaths,
Made from the levanders, round
Carry my breaths
Back to her lungs in the ground
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 12:59 PM UTC
The sky was starry, but the stars didn't glow
She was dressed in white, I couldn't see her in the snow
I could smell the flowers, though they couldn't grow
So i knew that she would show
Up
Sooner or later, on my left or my right
I couldn't wait to see her, I would wait the whole night
I started to freeze, but I put up the fight
I had to see that woman, that woman in white
If she was dragging me away, using her coat
I wouldn't care, I'd close my eyes and float
Till I'd see the dark lake and the big old boat
Then we'd sail all the lakes, young and old
Bur there I was, waiting, wasting my time,
I tried singing songs for her, but they wouldn't rhyme
No sounds, no footsteps, no other sign,
Only me, loosing the hope of her becoming mine
The wind remained quiet, it wouldn't blow
The sun started rising, illuminated the snow
The morning had arrived, my head hurt, so
I opened my eyes and I had to go
Home
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 5:45 PM UTC
Go see the misty place, deep in the woods,
That's where the willow tree's spreading her roots.
Long gentle branches are modestly bowing,
Above the shoot where a river is flowing.
It's been like that for centuries now,
The tree and the river, living in a vow.
The branches are caressing the hair on the surface,
The gesture, however, can't fulfill its purpouse.
Although their bond is strong, love never ending,
All alone, Willow and River are standing.
They're guarding each other, and each other only.
How come they, despite that, always feel lonely?
Every night, the willow tree woefully shivers,
Looking down upon her dark, lonesome river.
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 11:17 AM UTC