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Ayn Feb 2021
Dancing to the music
Which has long ended,
Static replaces
The now distorted confusion
Leaving a shimmering illusion.

Forgetfulness is an imperfect crime,
And so I truly am
Everywhere at the end of time.
“Everywhere at the End of Time” - The Caretaker
Ayn Feb 2021
Hold the rain;
Follow the fall,
Catch it before the splash.

Little umbrellas
Are all I have
Lay upon the grass
And feel the silencing grasp.

Live vicariously
Through my rain;
Through my pain.
Ayn Feb 2021
Spiraling through the sharpened skies,
Slicing at the wind
With a blade sharper than air.
We say all’s fair,
But with a corrupt mind and body
Do I have any right to endorse it?

In a world of bladed air,
The act of falling
Hurts more than the impact.
This is the world we live in today. If you are cast out by society, the fall to rock bottom hurts mire than being at rock bottom.
Ayn Feb 2021
The tug,
The pull,
The snap.

Giving way to the fall.
Time, flowing like water
Among glittering beaches.

Darkness moves in,
But a flaming defiance
Rises like a screaming gale
Along the gap
Where the string once existed.

In the flames of renewal
A new string is born,
Holding back
With a grip like thorns.

Spiraling in and out
Of a fruitful Existence,
We stand on the brink of life.
Hi~ hi~ everyone! I was listening to some Bring Me The Horizon today, and I caught myself thinking what would happen if I just drove my car into a tree (while I was driving my car I thought of this). I knew it was a dodgy thing because I don’t know how fast before I die. In the end I figured out one thing. If I went fast enough, I’d be dying, blinking out of existence, but I’d be screaming to live, in every last cell of my body. This poem is to reflect that. I didn’t crash my car. I’m not dead yet *******! (Said in a joking manner)
Ayn Feb 2021
Clear and transparent before me,
Lying calmly and silently.
The dawn rises behind the horizon,
The moon, once gone,
Now over the silver land.
Electrified emotions
Left to stimulate a dim moonlight.
Ayn Feb 2021
False whispers
Sounding alarms,
Poisoning the will;
Drowning the ill.

Pulling you down
Just to push you up,
And burrow inside you,
To be a viciously vicarious
Vile remnant
Of whats long gone.
Ayn Feb 2021
A violent struggle for air,
Lasts like a star’s radiant flare.
As the void turns to ashes,
Breath resumes control;
A frozen silencer thawed dry.
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