Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Lily Flower Sep 6
My dear old pain is in his death bed
and mourning comes in a haste
sits by my side, sheds some tears
Pats me on the left shoulder
Time flies by, old fellow
and we have to make it quick
so brisk do her tears trickle down
the weight lifted off her chest
by the invisible hand of time
the foe she shuddered to confront
But I hold my beloved pain by the hand
plant a mouthful of dry kisses on his lips
those he splashes with his tongue
Those that fan my fire with urgent pleas
But the scent of his evaporating blood
collaborates with the callous grasp of mourning
and the two unlock our burning lips
Now ruffled with the absence of my beloved pain
I stand back, to bid the mourning farewell
and dig my chest deep enough to bury
all the love I had for the gone soul
of my beloved pain..
Lily Flower Sep 3
My blood is sacred for it waters
the burning drought that surges
the barren outskirt of my skin
It ignites the grave of every dead muscle
killed for shooting a wide toothy smile
across my unquivering lips
It tells long forgotten tales
of all the women I used to be
but failed to see,with eyes shut
vomitting tears of self disdain
and a widespread rash over my skin
My blood is a red flag of relief
from a heap of decapitated veins
and the sardonic cold inside each *****
Every drop, a stifled scream for help
a pitiful plea to be noticed
And a scar-let seductress
waltzing across each arm
In the fading light of room
and the dying music of my heart
but my sacred blood still shines
it spills like barrels of wine
down the outskirts of my barren skin
and from each tiny particle
rises a woman that says "sacred"
Lily Flower Mar 28
From whose eyes shall I reclaim my lost self?
While it is you,old love, that their eyes reflect
Your words having me well under curses and spells
Telling of slippery youth and the world's defect

whose rickety mind shall I enchant to distort
To revive the shape of you again, my sovereign?
You stabbed my back and now I have fallen short
of welcoming hearts of realms distant or foreign

The night is an ill bed for my jagged scars
But I doubt if my dear self was stolen by stars
You sailed on my tears and sealed my lips
And I promised to desynchronise your warships

As I was busy cleansing my tears off you
I knew forever gone was a half of me or two
Lily Flower Mar 23
Many words I despise to praise
and smiles forcefully produced
palms on their eyes, fretting
to eye the truth that tastes so bitter
but mixed with glitter looks just like gold
to the bare eye.
I dare not say
I fret to speak
what truth lies buried in their chest
They'd run a thousand miles away
and shriek at the top of their lungs
to rip that chest apart
dispose of a piece of art
but never hear these words..
Easy to forebear lies within lies
sweet and sinister, like robbing a maiden off virginity
far better to taste, way easier to digest
than relinquish your heart to her fresh love
That is what they desire, not so deeply
And I haul myself to write for a sea of lost souls
and rivers of forgotten tears as mine
whose owners please to shroud
from what's indeed all human
to see with heart, and devour with ears.
This goes to all of us. Whether you've had an emotion or not, if you've ever felt pain and wondered how to react to it, then this poem is yours.
Lily Flower Mar 14
If life were a hundred years
I'd lose my name at the hand of time
and travel to the end of the world in advance
at the scoching border of hell I'd dance
to the delusion I was fooled to suffer
and glance back once more
to see I cannot ******* lover's lips
or let the majesty of a butterfly
steal my attention for eternity
I'd watch the gloom strip me off my shell
close to the border of hell
and ask if all along it were mine
can I then succumb in peace
break a ******* with God
and deride the masquerade he hosted?
that of which he always boasted!
But time and time again puts me to bed
with a mouthful of uncertainty
about the end of this entity
which I believed was me
or whatever me could be
life can embarrass time
and cease to age inside the corpse of years
or wilt the petals of a feisty poppy
That is the burden of those whom life endears
For that I sit here and wonder
why indeed did time go under?
Lily Flower Feb 12
Never arrived the day I could call you by your sweet name
and hear it echo through my soul
Or let the sound adorn every inch of air
Every weary day casually strolled
by and by bleached my hair
Never arrived the day I could pass by your house
and await a signal that you are there
It is unfair, and very unfair
That I know not whose arms stole your attention
from me, your devoted slave with no redemption
Never, Never arrived the day I could die for you
and prove that fools as such can exist too
I continued to live an ashen life till the end
Never did you love me back, never old friend! .
When wine brings back all the memories..cheers!
Lily Flower Feb 11
I have long desired a night undisturbed
full of sleep and coherent dreams
but that the sun arrives faster than light's speed
leaves me wondering
if there is ever an end to the war
I battle throughout weeks, months,
and years and years on end
After all I am easy to bend
like a daisy at the hand of storm
sways, unyielding, entrusting the wild current
of passion that breaks her back
I strike a match to see with blind eyes
how far this night, intemperate, will extend
And who shall have removed my footprints
when dawn breaks to swallow
every secret I whispered to this dusty road
and crushed beneath my feet
They say day is a neat deceit
for those who believe black is evil
and I hardly think it untrue
with stars ****** off their shine
to magnify the glory of darkness
when my body hits the matress
I can feel it quite as it is, darkness
but in no shade of beauty or grace
as if I never had any stars to sacrifice
with love their inborn proclivity
there indeed is no sincerity
in the way I am deaf to the sound of dark
A Beethoven masterpiece, the starry night
Such starless of a night this life has become
Or is it that life is still there?
handsome and fair, with his head in clouds?
My pinstriped eyes fail to glimpse in a crowd
the warmth and glow of this flame
of dark, this grand grand enchantress
Behind prison bars the war goes on
with no light to clear the mess...
Yeah obviously another piece on indomnia and depression. No this is never going to end..I always wear it like a coat..
Next page