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Madeline Harper Oct 2018
As these forlorn cadences await- unfold
To compose a disbanded vow
Yielding unto harrows of gates untold
Charms death to disdainful plow

Death is plowed to a forgiving halt
While silver moonlight and whiskey dances remain
Glittering gold in this crimson vault-
Feeble souls conjure grace as graceless minds abstain

Counterfeit conceits ravish this open cellar
As the night’s last dance ceases to a disgraceful plea
The dweller’s disdain is akin to my killer
And heaven yields blood to salt the earth for thee

Come away now with your anguishing defeats
Seek not a jagged spike as the heaven’s conspire and wake
Glory and gold may turn us black as deceit
But deception admonishes the dancers in their quake

Spellbound nuances of this reality await at every turn
Mourning and fighting the finality of this grave
Orchestrated knives are rosined like honey, beckoning our blood to burn
At last, a burning reckoning comes to ravage the brave

But refrain, oh killer- host of this crimson vault
Enlist a memoir for our sins
Recalling the pieties of our gracious faults,
Enough to make this blood go thin.
This poem was abstractly written to describe a scene of death among ballroom dance and the last dancer responsible for the tragedy.
Madeline Harper Oct 2018
I am only an ocean, a great rage and the ever-sinking sea
Lamenting every marred sailor forged in the waters of Galilee

No more shall sailors mourn a forgotten plea:
A ransom for hell, where devils run free

Forgive and forget
But never forget my eyes
The rage you lament
Remains lost to solemn lies

You are only now, only here, and solemnly mine,
For what is brimstone but ash beneath the dying brine?

You are my sword, my heart and my final lament and plea
Forget not my mind lost to hell’s every subtlety

There is only rage that awaits among this sea
Forever pining for a ransomed eternity.
"Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers  have swept over me." -Psalm 42:7 (NIV)
Madeline Harper Sep 2018
Gladly, gladly
Sadly, I will go
Slowly, death valley
To reap what I sew

Ache, awake-
The sun is setting low
Break-bind stake
Bury me in the snow

To lament, to forget,
Sever all your ties
Complied threats: mere regrets
Masked in perfect lies

Gladly, gladly,
Madly- to and fro
Sadly, badly
Find me in the snow.
I might try to build onto this later. Please let me know your thoughts!
Madeline Harper Sep 2018
My blood is a toxin
Toxic like wine
The ink from this pen
Is duly mine

Your name is a drug
My drug and my wine
My body was your temple
Now become a shrine

The harlotry is my venom
The venom is my wine
And for all that I may account
I know I've walked the line

The whisky is my poison
The poison is my wine
And I find it warmer here
Beneath the dying brine

Now my thoughts lay bundled with twine
And here I am, fresh out of wine
If there's poison in the wine, then hunny I'm drunk
Madeline Harper Sep 2018
Charming endeavors harbor pain
Melancholic facades are dull and dim
Rage seeks only by plot of gain
Only hope remains by the morning’s whim

Hope is a welcomed nail
That bled my soul awake,
Resilient to the vale
And makes the mountains quake.

Hold fast to the stars-
Forget not our plight!
Gold are our scars:
Black in perfect light.

Forget nothing- but everything
Will always be a hopeful blunder
I have never known a sweeter sting
Than the hope that throws me asunder.
Random write- feeling a little melancholy tonight and trying to write it out
Madeline Harper Aug 2018
These feral thoughts lay scattered
And lay waste to an endangered mind
It seems thorns only mattered
When they were blooming and I was blind

As I’ve seen, dreams are a virtue
While reality is a cross-
The former nails the good and true
While the latter is a mere loss

These virtuous thorns plague me
When I go lay the cross to rest
While these thorns pillage kindly
And seek a curse to heal the blessed

If dreams are ash, then a soul is fire
Onward still! We will burn before the dark
As thoughts are a haze and minds are liars
Yet, burning thorns always carry a spark.
I’m trying to practice writing while I’m back in school, please let me know your thoughts!
Madeline Harper Aug 2018
We do not give up the Renaissance for an ardent lie
We do not rise to meet the gods only to be slain by the earth
Even time does not falter for every zealous eye
Even the heavens rise and fall in every death and rebirth
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