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  4d Green
Lyle
you-taking me driving when no one else would
you-letting me talk and telling me I'm understood
you-have a checkered past and so do I
you-making me laugh and making me cry
you-have a voice that makes me love my name
you-I love you but I don't think you feel the same
you-always and forever you
Green May 29
I reached there as a slave.
To the guiding light.
Dazzling for those,
Who lay above the sky.

A desolate route,
Which promised lush fruits,
Whose sweet compelled none.
As the shining light’s call,
echoed through all.

Hoping for some soothing warmth,
Steps were set on changing harm.
Prayed I for trusty terrains,
As I walked with trembling arms.

Scattered with petals,
Were the desolate lands.
Who tempted my boots,
To weigh in one more stand.

Harsh hail, dried my dreams.
Soaking rain, wet my hopes.
Akin to a horse, wearing a visor,
I kept moving, being no wiser.

The guiding lights carved paths,
Compelled it to dream of lush lands.
But the light lost its way and warmth,
Without the dreams of me and harm.

I saw a sliver of light,
Shine through my eyes.
Dried petals,
Hanging from frail lies.

As I felt them,
It gave my throbbing heart,
A solace of warmth.
I at last rested in peace,
lying above, the sky beneath.
Life without ambition is a humid rain,with no happiness it feels numb
But in seek of ambition we often forget ourselves but in those times petals of hope keeps us alive.
To convey feelings of fear ,hope and confusion in ambitions was the main themes of my poem.
I hoped you enjoyed reading it
Green Mar 24
Seldom settling souls
Carrying water around
Since greedy surrounds
And are foul.

Peace bought in bottles
Seeking sleep now , hopeless.
Big wallets full of cash
Nothing to feed a dwindling class.

Peace sold in bottles.
For suits buying hotels.
Suits shouldn't be worth
A billion.
Selling peace in bottles
Green Feb 23
Passing through mists ,travelled he deeper into abyss,
Loosing all beliefs ,discovered he the myths.
Situated there the tremendous oak, whose branches laid broke.
Shrouded was every nook, Unbelievable was the look.
To cover the labyrinth, the aim of the oak.

Twenty year old heavenly tree, with no fruit to see.
No bird near it to nap, as it was nothing ,but a trap.
It stood tall with no weight, a husk which gave; no aid.
No shade, no seed, no flower, no feed,
A hollow disingenuous tree, stretching through routes; as it felt free.

‘Never to leave the labyrinth’, was the destiny of the folk.
As beyond the ground, laid a dozen dead folk.
Despised the oak of, the spreading truth.
“Death to doves, who threaten my youth".
Folks believed of changing season,
Hoped men for fruits from the ‘oak of reason’.

Maintained the oak, all they could.
Stacked they chambers, for all they could.
For all they wanted were changing times,
But all they could were changing tiles.

As times changed, and the labyrinth caved.
The new order was played by, plain old slaves.
They called him ‘the oak’, “the protector” they say,
But peel the bark away , and he is rotten as decay.
Crows around, enforced to the ground,
Worked crows for new lords, among new laws.  

So called men of holy faith, nothing but folks of hollow faith.
Protected men, the oak from nesting doves,
Promised men it caused “harming sprouts”,
But it just made nestling doubts.

Flying through labyrinth, away from the abyss.
Losing all beliefs, discovered the dove ‘true’ myths.
Situated there the colossal gate,
Of which locks laid in a destructive state.
Shrouded was every nook, Unbelievable was the look.
To escape the labyrinth, was the aim of the dove.
This took way longer than I expected it to take initially. Its not really my style to write longer poems so be a bit less harsh when judging it .Personally I noticed how I lacked an arsenal of vocabulary while making this.
Still I am very happy on how it turned out. Hope you liked it as well
Green Feb 4
Akin to a tree with no shade,
A branch with no fruit ,
It stands tall with no weight ,
A husk with no shade .
Promised the men,
"The tree to provide shade,
To those who eat the fruit" .
With only fruits to be imaginary,
Men stand staring ,
Into the empty husk .

If a dove to approach ,
If a dove to question ,the 'fruits',
“The dove to be lit up " ,said the men,
“It harms the tree “, said the men,
" The Luscious tree cannot be fathomed,
As it not be questioned by simple minds " ,said the men.

The simple minded crow,
To pray for its shade .
For no seem found ,For men still stares.
Stares he at the fallen branches ,
Of a tree with no fruits.
I initially started writing this with a belief of agnosticism . After finishing it I realised the fruit doesn't have to be the "promise of salvation " It can just be any unfulfilled promise.
Any unfulfilled promise that men try to keep alive cause they benefit from the ignorance of people like the crow.
A dove initially in my mind was a heritic during the 18th century where they were lit up for questioning or going against catholic Church.
But in the end I realised it could be just about anyone who questions a stupid promise.
The shade is supposed to represent comfort in the fruit. Hope you had a good read .
And let me know if you throught this had any other interpretations according to you. (┛✧Д✧))┛
Green Feb 2
An icy cold hand ,
Dragging me through river styx .
He is not one to speak .
But the shadows of me asked,
"Why did I choose to die? "
The echoes crawled through the dead
Never bothered to be answered
Kinda of a short poem
Describing maybe sometimes death is in fact a punishment and something that cannot be sympathised with
In direct contrast to my other poem
Called "to persophone "
Green Feb 2
When tides change ,
And sides change.
Hero falls prey to a new justice,
And villains change to the new justice.

A genocide of millions,
Is a promise to a billion .
A proof of God's inexistence ,
Becomes a roof of his existence.

Right or wrong - a matter of perspective .
Forgotten are stories, of villains fighting.
Written are histories ,of heroes surviving.
The myths of heroes ,
Were nightmares for villains.

Love to some ,
Turns into hate for others.
They aren't ,the moral right ,
They are just ,the mortal plight.
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