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I think
as artists
we owe a lot to pain.

Put on
a robe of thorns
and write

about the nice weather outside
and that delicious burger
you had today.

Write about happiness
when you're in pain-
beauty.
 Mar 2018 Captain Lucas
Ciel Noir
What other kind              of creature could divide        
        Each different thing             into its different sides                
  With chaos versus             order, dark and light
The stark duality of         wrong and right
We even split the very        world in two
With human versus human,       we and you
But still no matter how much      we divide
Each thing has infinitely many      sides
Your grip is so firm and tight
I can’t even say enough to start a fight

This protectiveness is so present
At first charming, but now not so pleasant

Your concept of space gripping upon me
When you’re gone my sadness is as deep as the sea

You and I are tangled together like vines
Slowly but surely ignoring warning signs

If I leave I don’t know how to survive
But at the same time what if we never thrive?
 Feb 2018 Captain Lucas
Alexander
I will not stand for the absence.
The fight for survival in my own skin,
Sown onto me, like some wasted fabric.
Nailed to my bones like the child of God.

For someone so alone and so strong,
It gets tiring to hear the same song.
The anthem of nothing.
The joy of relief.

When the pain is gone,
An even worse enemy steps to the stage.
His enemy is love.
He goes by the name, rage.
Feeling soft, cool breezes gliding on my skin like a graceful dance
Feeling as though I'm in a nostalgic trance
Nostalgic of once being surrounded by zephyr whispers
Familiar scents lurk within the gusts and seemingly withers

Flowing memories soon ascent;
Bringing a sense of tranquility;
Rising emotionally beyond ability
A memory having no rhyme or reason, soon descents.
Meaning: What sparked the idea of creating this was just one night just before midnight sitting on my bed. It was silent and I had my window open to let in some cool air and during all of this I started randomly thinking of sweet nostalgic early memories and at the same time sensing and feeling the soft cool breezes come out of my window and slide on my bare skin. It felt right to create this type of poem as I became obsessed with the moment.

— The End —