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 Sep 2013 hannah way
Ben
autumn
 Sep 2013 hannah way
Ben
scarlet, vermillion, saffron, in air
samhain sacrifice for the coming night
brushstrokes 'cross limbs soon laid bare

arcane characters for the fair
symbols ward them till distant light
scarlet, vermillion, saffron, in air

offered to old gods in ritual prayer
last colors of autumn before winter's white
brushstrokes 'cross limbs soon laid bare

an iron will to survive, they do declare
a solemn pact and a sacred rite
scarlet, vermillion, saffron, in air

herald the end of summer's affair
golden head bowed to geimhreadh's might
brushstrokes 'cross limbs soon laid bare

still stand proud they do, with defiant glare
the trees of the forrest an enchanting sight
scarlet, vermillion, saffron, in air
brushstrokes 'cross limbs soon laid bare
 Sep 2013 hannah way
Kate Louise
are you feeling dark and gloomy?
black as a dusty chalkboard
spooky like foggy street lights
like bruises
and
gooey, scabby knees
are you feeling spooky?
do you want to hide in your white room
and put out cigarettes on your tongue
or press them to your curtains
do you want to set the room on fire?
how far will you go to turn your insides out?
you paint those walls with charcoal
from the inside of your lungs

are you hurt?
greatness once stood here
drinking the spilled blood
of the winos and dope fiends
as they crashed
wings useless
from voyaging too close
to Apollo's fury
this vast wasteland
endless concrete
and stores which stay in business
for months
before being replaced
with the next Mongolian themed restaurant
the streetlights flicker
before burning out
like the candles of so many
extinguished too soon
this wasteland is all encompassing
be wary of the passer-by
they have a grin where their mouth should be
and a purse with a hole in the bottom
they salivate greed
and scream
at anybody who will listen
These are my beliefs,
they may not be right,
but **** it you'd better follow them

the wolves are hungry
out to get you in every drunken
way too high dark alley
that runs rank with beer ****
the elders feed on the young
spiders on their world wide web
******* the life out of the youth
until they themselves
are free of this
free of anger and drive
determination
but best of all
free from the endless torment
of untouched dreams
lock your mind, heart, and soul
in a cage made of razor blades
and swallow they key
because times are hard
in the wasteland
and if you want to make it
you're in for a hell of a journey
once all the leaves have dropped
we stand eternal
like the dead
falling from withered branches
which once carried so much life
time has a way of taking these things from us
life
love
passion
hate
anger
Time is the great thief
time is relative
making everybody relatively
scared shitless
time is the relative
that the family merely tolerates
always on
and on
tick tock
tick tock
with two broken hands
wrapped in a ***** kitchen towel
I'd like to throttle
father time
 Sep 2013 hannah way
Wolfey
Lately. People have begun to believe I am God.
What a demented idea!
Last time I checked,
I ***,
I cry,
I laugh,
I bleed.
Just like the rest of yer!
No, they don't believe I have some mighty,
unnatural power.
They believe my hands are big enough to carry every ones complication.
I have my own problems,
but i am very ..
compassionate.
I can get hurt.
I bleed when I fall down or cry when I see a sad sob movie.
I may look strong and content on the inside.
But no one can see the repulsive, crestfallen deliberation inside in my head.
Angry young kid
Angry young ideas
Who gets to claim heaven?
When heaven means hell?
We split words in half
To measure the value
Only to find
We know nothing
In a world
Made of
Fragmented ideas
We are the blind men
Circling the drain
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