Seed planted at twelve,
Fourteen's springtime; sprouting,
while toiled and soiled,
till twenty's plenty.
The precious peers arrive,
cans in one, fertiliser in the other.
You plead, you beg,
nothing but stilted silence
Expansion you cannot take.
Not for this inner tree of black,
where nothing but anguish falls.
Wistfully Melancholic, Brown Overtones.
It's that ****** day again -
never stopping or skipping a second,
nor letting stillness be.
Is it future or is it past?
you'll never heed this
That painting on the wall,
a time long lost - desolate,
and left to longing,
with the romantic bliss that was,
and is nevermore
A fresh rising sun, grass glazed in dew
thhe sweet sweet sound of the robins tune,
Sounds of the storm begin to brew
humming along to thhe robins tune;
inside the palace,
it grumbles and growls
but you're not the same.
Slaughtering deafening silence
continue to follow the robins tune.
Crimson tears crash
from the eyes of the Gods,
faithfully flowing through
the cobble-****** path,
in the direction of the fire.
The heavens burning,
and providing light,
dimming down this dwindling road.
shrieks of terror, shouts of faith
as the herd of sheep
Desperate for their burning bush
Itself. Yet I Grin,
lips spread thin
cheek to cheek,
ear to ear,
such absurdity leads
to either laughter or fear.
The blasting intensity of the echoing bell,
formation finally falls into place
as the sheep align - a simplicity
fondly remembered now
momentous and modern yet cold
and uncaring, a jail cell
for generations to come.
Guards persona's personable and kind,
like Christ they claim to know best,
Began with the fables of Biff, Chip and Kipper,
then break to fill your chest
This stop's swiftly stolen,
forced straight back to the program;
a servitude designed to force labour
I'm not happy with how the end flows so i'm still working on this, any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.
Skin sizzling, sun;
blasting through blinds -
I am the dog chasing the ball;
bliss yet determined mind.
A perilous journey in this heat,
crossing this solitude street
portrayal of the world and its foes
and demonic villainous woes.
The buzz of death overheard
carriages slowly shuffle ahead
as the sweat scent overcomes your mind
your day begins with leaving on time.
the precious angels lay as a rock
in the room next door.
Raucous laughter ,
daft banter and a moment
that makes you think: