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Wooden table and a ****** nose
Flows lightly, osculating it’s wood
And if only this could be felt in prose
Only verse can reflect my mood

Clock ticks in the background
I breathe slowly, in acceptance
The excruciating lack of sound
Is breaking my will to dance

And one last song I’d give to Terpsichore
But I don’t have the time any more.
Timeless, shapeless and colourless
Yet I demised after your fading trail
Excruciatingly hallucinating of a dark veil
Sobbing, for my torment is painless.

Would I deserve you at any era?
Shame would keep me from you.
I could be Zeus, you could he Hera,
But such wasn't destiny’s brew.

How powerless are my sails
Against a windy, furious sea
Maybe trying a couple of ales
Will make me invite you for tea.
There’s this ache in my head
It viciously runs my spine
Is it because I’m very sad,
Or because of all that wine?

It becomes terribly confusing
To stand still, almost paralyzed
it’s completely terror inducing
it twists my mind as sterilized

Completely empty it might be
Assaulted thoughts of worry
And the biggest burden for me
Is that letter reading “I’m sorry”
A rough morning.
Methodical schedules arise
Poems mechanically created
Emotion forcibly simulated
Rummaging towards demise
I am but a machine
Of emotions and pain
All I am is scribbled
On thin paper sheets
Sunlight melts through
Sheets we used to share
"Kiss me" would you dare
and I’d shake like bamboo
Ah, summer. Wasn't it wonderful?
To avoid this kind of memories
I moved into a room with no windows
I leave the day to those outside exiles.
I leave the warm sun to the reptiles.

I want to feel the breeze in my face,
I want to run through the streets!
I want to feel my heart jump and race,
I want to dance to my own heartbeats!
I want to hear breathing from my chest,
I want to live fully, while all others rest.

I want motion to be perpetual and mine,
I want to feel everything, tipsy from wine.

I want your lips pressed against my neck
I want to be happy without looking back.
Though I love the futuristic current of poetry, I can't seem to pull those poems off. I always feel like I lack motion in my emotions, that I like drive to live, which is precisely where futurism would fit. But sometimes, I feel in a "futuristic" mood, and I'll never restrain myself from writing it out.
Tingling piano sounds
drops of eternal rain
Darkness without bounds
Mind peace you sustain

Night, my dearest maiden
I wish I could live within thou
Shield me from the day, you
Be my eternal ethereal den
I don't want to sleep
I don't want to be awake
My fear of the light is deep
I want the night's embrace
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