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Ira Mar 31
As another night begins,
I hold the edge of my bed,
Looking into my head.

All these old feelings appear,
And my minds painted,
Misty Muave

We knew this could never happen,
Yet I still whispered:
“Never leave me…”

I still love you so much,
Ya know,
Yet I let you go,
Because two “ friends” can’t be one soul…

Baby what can I do,
You know I still love you,
Yet to save ourselves,
We’ll meet someone new.

Get out of my mind,
Our love was so sinful,
Yet desire and truth,
Still collided in night.

Denying every beat,
Denying everything,
  Won’t change my hearts tinge.

Denying what we were,
Denying to others,
“He’s my friend…”



We were friend that knew everything,
To where we could ask:
“Can you read me?”

As you said yes and leaned towards me,
A kiss,
Sealed the fact,
That you could read me like a paperback.

Baby what can I do,
I can’t help but love you,
Ain’t nothing that,
That can erase what’s true...

Get out of my mind,
You know this can’t happen,
Yet to play with our hearts,
Is so tantalizing.

We knew this could never happen,
Yet I still whispered:
“Can I love you?”

I still love you so much,
Ya know,
Despite what happened,
But how can two boys say for sure…


Baby what can I do,
You know I still love you,
Yet to save ourselves,
We’ll meet someone new.

Get out of my mind,
Our love was so sinful,
Yet desire and truth,
Still collided in night.


Baby what can I do,
I can’t help but love you,
Ain’t nothing that,
That can erase what’s true

Get out of my mind,
You know this can’t happen,
Yet to play with our hearts,
Is so tantalizing.

Baby what can I do,
My words can never say it,
Because if they could,
I would still be with you.

Get out of my mind,
How taboo for this to happen,
A crossed wire in hearts,
Can’t bring two worlds apart...
Inspired by Tatsuro Yamashita's song:
Misty Muave
Ira Jun 2019
Ash
The sky is ablaze with ash,
For I am having a clash.
My father is working in hell,
Not concerned with Earth's well.

And as I rise out of death to fix His mess,
Many humans will rise to atest.
I mean all well and wish to simply clean,
But there is far to much for me not be mean.

God cares little for what I do,
For humans all burn with a deadly hue.
And as I clean out the gutter,
All will cry in a hellish mutter.

Bodies will line the street as I see fit,
And Lucifer's work will get fuller by a bit.
Yet ash is simply an inconvience to Him,
But it loves to ask for God's penance.

Now I clean out ash,
As sin makes any human black.
Doo Doo do da do Doo BING - Mario Theme
Ira Apr 2019
"Demons sing,
Throughout the horrid night,
Hoping to cause,
A little fright…"

I don't know why,
But the terrors so good.
We stay here and lie,
Maybe more then we should…

Sirens at night,
Waiting just like we would,
Temptation and ire,
That burns you like firewood.

Maybe we're monsters,
Maybe we're good,
Maybe we're humans,
Just under a hood.

Yet at the end of the day,
We simply saaayyyy,

"There ain't much about us,
That you need to know.
We simply stay here,
Waiting to go.
All that we do,
Is **** fools like you.
For our songs are temptation,
And you humans love damnation!
And just like a lamb,
To the pitiful slaughter,
Your blood will soon run,
Like red crimson water!"
NOOT NOOT PREPARE TO BOOT
  Mar 2019 Ira
Zack Ripley
Words can hurt. Words can heal. Words in a book can make you believe anything is real. Words can bring people together or tear them apart. It all depends on the kind of conversation you want to start.
Ira Sep 2018
Writing a story on a topic,
Hazing away at the microsoapics,
I write stories that aren’t meant to be fun,
Just the basic humdrum.

Reality is my Inspiration,
No matter the mood I’m in.

Dragons and Wizards are to be left on the bookshelves,
As I run to work,
And meet my colleagues for a day of writing reality.

We walk the world in actuality,
And see people with all different vitality.
People of all different ideas of reality.

They speak,
I listen,
I ask,
And they answer,
And we both learn about reality together.

I then write what I heard,
Tell what I saw,
And let the ideas fly like birds.

I've seen all people of life,
I've heard many of there trifes.

I laughed at their victories,
I cry at their lost,
And I hear all their vivid histories.

I write all types of reality,
From the memories of all different types of vitalities.

And as I write about how reality unfurls,
I write about the greatest dreams of this world
I'm in Journalism so I wrote a poem, about it.
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