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Dusk seeps and blurs the skyline
come the close of day
a pinky lilac ribbon
heralds night unto its stage.

The journey is a long one
clouds heavy, threaten rain
drops fall, refract a tiny world
and get wiped away again.

Yawning motorway before me
the lamps lick overhead
tarmac seams provide the beat
and keep my conscious fed.

Driving through the velvet hours
with widened, tearless eyes
I could be the last one left
under orange studded skies.

The rear view mirror silent
no followers in sight
the road ahead deserted
blank darkness left and right.

The headlights kiss a pilgrimage
from Dartford all the way
up into the Highlands
where ghosts of old clans play.

The cast of fading reason
blindness gives me bliss
mechanically motioned
riding the abyss

of barely wakeful notion
'cross the bones of England's spine
inverted patterns play upon
the windscreen all the time.

Punctuated by reflections
blue signs winking in the black
past Sheffield, Leeds and Darlington
where I'm never going back.

Driving through the darkness
steeped in rayless calm
rouged by dashboard luminesce
atramentously embalmed.

A window down to rouse me
night air beholds a trace
of perfumed secrets, blown on wings
that dance about my face.

'cross this scarred and sceptred landscape
it's said all roads lead to Rome
except the ones we love the most
that always take us home.

The snows of un-illumination
settle gently on my breast
aimed towards the mountains
running north, then turning west.

Though a social creature
I crave the company
of oneness in transition
just the road and me.

Humming, ceaseless through geography
with resonance my friend
dreaming while I'm wide awake
from beginning until end.

The shipping forecast soothes me
singing songs of gales
and this machine is just a ship
with tyres for its sails.

Out upon an ocean
of blacktop, good and firm,
through slow and haunted moments
with no need to turn.

One immeasured here to there
one simple action: drive
unknowing of the distance
only sure I will arrive.

And though dawn will surely seek me
for now I'm content to hide
among the blessed darkness
clasped by shadow deep inside.

I'm compelled to move forever
through ghosted, unlit time
the road ahead unhindered
the solitude sublime.
I wrote this piece about a regular journey I used to make through the night from my home in Dartford up into the Scottish Highlands, to a tiny place called Craobh Haven, around twenty miles south of Oban.
 Apr 2014
Willow-Anne
I used to believe in destiny
I used to believe in fate
I thought I'd end up at just the right place
And everything would just be great

I used to believe in honesty
In speaking up for what you believe
I thought people would value the truth
I didn't think that they would leave

I used to believe in people
That deep down everyone is good
That's why violence, cruelty, and abuse
Were things that I never understood.

If there is good in everyone
Do people just choose the bad?
Do they decide that life is more fun
When your goal is to make others sad?

If being honest is always best
Then why does it create drama?
Arguments, attacks, and insults...
Why not save ourselves the trauma?

If there is really some higher plan
Why do so many people end up falling flat
People are bullied, abused, homeless
Tell me, what kind of master plan is that?

I used to believe in destiny
Maybe I was just naive
I used to believe in the good
Now I don't know what I believe.
So this is a bit more negative than the poems I usually share (in my opnion) I almost didn't share this one...but I liked the layout a lot so I figured...eh why not. Anyways, sorry for the negativity everyone! <3 Hopefully my next poem will be a bit more positive <3 :)
Also sorry about the lame title...this the first time ever that I couldn't come up with a one word title that was exactly what I wanted it to be...
But I refuse to break my tradition of one word titles lol. So I'll have to settle for a mediocre one. Anyways, hope you all enjoy the poem dispite the negativity.
 Feb 2014
jeremy wyatt
Fierce falls the rain
Summer's spite.
Beats down my wheat
and steals the light.
Like the raging wind
which bends and breaks the tree
The wrath of Amaryllis is to me.
 Feb 2014
Luminosity Cat
7:30pm - I am crying. Wars are raging. Demons are coming. My soul is dying.

8:30pm - Try to resist a knife that sits. Pick up the phone, just so alone. Try to resist the urge that pursists.

9:30pm - Urges pursist, I finally cave in. Marks on my skin, wage a war thats within. Spirits are fighting, demons are crying. A soul is dying. Tempers are rising.

10:30pm - My heart is breaking. My temper is flaring. My thoughts are rising. A God I'm denying. I'm lost, chained, and bound. I'm tired of fighting.

11:30pm - Alone in night, along in day. My friends seem to walk away. Still I am trying. Is there any reason to living?

12:30am - Sleeping comes naught to that who is crying. A God who has ceased caring. Is there any life worth giving?

1:30am - Trying to write to someone so dear, but words alas, won't come near. I cry out for help, hoping a God will hear. Hoping someone might just be there.

2:30am - I walk to the garage, a shotgun awaits. I pick up the tool, to send me to my death. I look for the bullets, none can I find. I go to the house, to look for a knife.

3:30am - I pick up a knife, to hold to my neck. I think back on the past nine years of my life. The rediculing, the name calling, the moving, the drinking, the hell that's broke loss must come to an end.
I think of a friend. Will she miss me, I wonder. I think to a dance that had not long past. A friend... I think naught, an older sister. I remember the song that she played for my ears.
I remember my mentor, the one who discovered. I remember her efforts to tell me they cared. I remembered her words that told me she would always be there.
I thought yet again to a friend who long past. I thought to her last words to my ear. "You're loved, don't forget it. Even if I'm not here."
I thought to years long past. When I layed in the grass, my brothers at hand. I told them I was running. His response, "No, don't go. I love you to much for that. I need you to pick on."

3:45am - I put down my knife. I go to my room. I continue to cry. I may not be happy, but my life I must live. My demons then flee, but my chains still bind me. An angel protects me, of this I am sure. To sleep I must drift, I'll wake in the morn.
 Nov 2013
jeffrey conyers
Yes, we could.
Yes, we should.
We should dive into knowing him more than many of us do.
We should be his biggest fan upon this earth.
Yes, I admit this.
Yes, I admit it.

Many of us get distracted by phones, computers and even love.
I admit it.
Yes, I admit this.

Many us only pick  up the Holy Bible for show.
Even in church many don't visit the scriptures.
Barely want to mention the name Jesus.
I admit it.
I've even seen it.

But let something bad happen.
Then we  shower him with all style of attention.
Thank you, Jesus.
Thank you, Jesus.
If it hadn't been for your saving grace.
Where would I be?

Yes, I admit this.
I even heard this.
A man, who was given to us by God?
Isn't the center of attention of many people hearts.
A man that carried out the purpose of God.

A man that didn't accept much.
But who life to this day has a serious purpose?
I admit it.
I admit, I'm a worshiper of Christ.
Yes, I admit it.
And never will deny it.
 Nov 2013
Priya Patel
Always lingering, longingly
Like leaves frolicking in trees
Your gaze entraps me
Tempting me
Mesmerizing me
Engaging me in a lovers dance
Seducing my senses
Only you, only you
 Sep 2013
Priya Patel
She is the tickle behind my ear
whispering love from afar
offering hope and faith
best wishes for us all

I see pictures of her
smiling laughing drinking
She is beautiful in her mask
Her mask ... she wears it well

Behind; tear stained cheeks
permanently scarred heart
eyes as bleak as withered snow
She is lost, I cannot find her

Saddened by life's choices
dying from a broken heart
a loss of hope, of will
She is giving up

But I love her with all my heart....
 Sep 2013
Priya Patel
Hidden behind dark brooding clouds,
a faithful sky
peeks through
to a down casted eye
Eyes hazed with doubt
and speckled with despair
searching for hope
looking everwhere
losing faith
in the one constant light
in his life; me
I am here my love
lost in my own brooding clouds
battling some of my
worst personal doubts
Look up sweetheart
and peek through
the dark skies above
There you will find hope
swimming in a bath of my love
A light so bright
it will drown
all your doubts away
I am here
 Sep 2013
Priya Patel
I carried you through heats of hell
and blanketed you in the blistering snow
nurturing you against my breast
afraid of letting you go
You are the one thing in my life
that can never be taken away
Cherished dearly in every way

You are all of my memories
 Sep 2013
Priya Patel
I hear the soft crumpling of leaves
beneath the paws of life
One must wither eventually, right?
I look down on grass
burnt brown from age
and rake the leaves away
with memories from summers page;
torn from the book of life
The branches on a tree
beneath a rumbling sky does sway
as if to say
goodbye
The tinkling of raindrops;
wet against dry
as if, for a moment
in mourning, clouds cry
for the soft crumpling leaves no more
Arms stretched out
eyes moist with hope
I pray for their souls to be nourished
in the memories of summers dew
 Sep 2013
Priya Patel
Time trickles by
agonizingly slow
tick tock tick tock
frustrations grow
They are playing the waiting game

Stung by fate
life's little trick
the sweetest boy
so very sick
Tick tock tick tock, time is just a game

Hands aged with fears
bound tight; she prays
fingers shivering
a grandmother softly says
God keep him safe and end this waiting game

Friends and family
kneel down in faith
praying together
In God's love they bathe
Knowing soon that time is almost here

Fate is fate
and we are all bound by destiny
but in my heart of hearts
I pray that he will be
your happy, healthy grandson once again

*to Wanda, you and your grandson are in our prayers
 Sep 2013
Priya Patel
You say you know me;
then know me
Know the hazel
that flickers gold in my eyes
when you smile at me
and the sudden rush
of the reddish blush
in my cheeks so instantly;
when you touch me
Know the scent of me
when im not around
and the feel of me
when I cannot be found
Know the sound of my voice
in your ear
Know when I am near
You say you know me;
so know me
just as I know you
 Sep 2013
Priya Patel
She is as beautiful
as butterflies in Spring
Her hair flutters in the breeze;
a gentle sneeze
from the soft blowing winds
She is beautiful; she is ...
Her skin glows golden
like daffodils at summers end
and just as flowers often do,
she blooms
In a world of trampled
black and white weeds,
she truly is as beautiful
as butterflies in Spring

*to my beautiful neice Nikita
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