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Aeneid Mar 2018
I saw her there, perched upon a branch.

Intertwined, shield and cover, a roof made up of thatch.

Talons tight, a ring upon a lover’s finger.

Winter, wings unfurl, must go, useless love doesn’t linger
Aeneid Mar 2018
Fear, despair doubt dread distress dismay.

Who would want it any other way

Love, Passion adore like amore, devotion.

This as my preferred emotion? What a frivolous notion.

Fear, solid heavy robust stable steady.

Fear, wealth worth riches store horde, plenty.

Love, frail fragile shaky sickly sluggish, rotten.

Love low, needy flat broke. forgotten.
Aeneid Aug 2023
If I finally find a single fact I’m sure of.

Before my time is up and my mind fully spent.

I’ll cling to it.

Dig my nails into it.

Till it or I break; ****** and bruised

And I'll work for it,

Till my knees buckle and my back bends from straining.

I'll sweat for it.

Lose my breath for it.

Till Death yanks me away from it.

Till then.

I'll have to make do.

I'll search for it.
Why am I so unsure of everything in my life?
Aeneid Mar 2023
Tick. Tock.
Time moves
I move
Move me not
For I am time
Aeneid Mar 2018
Once sprightly bright, not hunched, but tall
Like a decommissioned kite, they fall
They twirl and twindle, who knows how they'll land
Who cares? They are but ground on which to stand
Their brown cloth crumbles round their cage
Now are naught, but stuff that leads to rage.
I know  that this one's really easy but I just wanted to try my hand at a riddle.
Aeneid Mar 2023
I smell the beer and sweat that hangs on the air.
two beasts of burden at the ready,
as doctors laugh and joke and wait for blood.
The bell sounds its violent echo
and with it
two artists paint the canvas crimson.
A winner is picked, he's barely held together with a belt.

what a world
what a life
what the **** am I doing with mine?
If life is like boxing,
I'm on the ropes
Aeneid Mar 2023
They say you can't choose whom you love,
But I say that's not entirely true.
Sometimes, you will it
And their flaws melt into sea foam and footnotes
And you begin to love so deeply,
That it becomes as automatic as breathing
Constant. Ever. Driving.
Love that paints the sky pink and the blacks blue

But me, I'm not ready for that love.
Something inside me becomes nauseous.
The air gets taught and sharp,
Goosebumps become body briars
Ready to cut anyone too close.
I want to love, and,
One day, I'll will it.
Won't I?

— The End —