Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Marthin Mar 13
Since when did Death become an art you can practice?
Since when did Suicide become a trend you can go with?
Do you find beauty in the death of a poor victim?
Or do you see contentment in those eyes that are suffering?

The world has become a place where we can objectify.
Not even you or them, neither he or she can testify.
That the world has changed than what we came by.
That in front of problems and mishaps no one would clarify.

The world has become a scary place can’t you see?
Where we need a trend to clean, but isn’t it our responsibility?
Where women are blamed why they are *****.
Does it really matter? What they wear, the color, size or shape?

Where becoming true will make you a freak.
Where if you’re silent then you’re weak.
Do others find solace in the face of injustice?
Or is it that what the others has practiced?

Why do we continue of romanticizing wrong things,
Do we not think of the consequences it brings?
To the people around us, whether they be young or old.
Should we say the things that are better left untold?

Yes we don’t know what the future may hold,
But we can change it, cause we are the mold.
What we do in the process changes the outcome.
Yet it solely depends on what we choose to become.
Marthin Mar 3
What does it take to make people understand? That it’s not about you, and what you do. That it’s about them and how they treat you.

What does it take to make others feel the same pain you’re going through? That you can’t make it go away because it’s always there to stay.

What does it take for everyone to know that you’re in deep pain? Not because someone hurt you, but because the essence of your own being is slowly fading away and you’re trying your best just to stay sane.

What does it have to take for those around you to take what you’re feeling seriously? That it’s not all fun and games, that you just want attention and you’re just sad and not depressed. Since when did it have a description that you need symptoms to be depressed?

What does it take to break free from this world of suffering, from this world of judging, where there’s only hating, and you lose when you’re loving. Where becoming true is a freak, and if you can’t cheat then you’re weak.

Why did this world become like this?
When did the world change?
What made the world toxic?
How did the world come to this?
Marthin Feb 25
How happy were you when we both said goodbye?
When the relationship we both strongly built crumbled to pieces.
How could you look at me straight to my eyes when you lie?
While my heart is being torn apart, filling it with emptiness.

How could you move on so quickly like it was nothing at all?
While I was stuck in the slumps, hopeless - finding it hard to move on.
How can you be so happy when he gave you a call?
When you were just crying when we chatted through the phone.

How could you say that you really loved me and cared?
When you had no time for me, cause you were busy with someone else.
How heartless of you to smile while watching our red string be severed?
Destroying the beautiful orchestra with the sound of the haunting church bells.

How was it so easy for you to be happy with another man?
Was I not enough? It’s really hard for me to understand.
How, how, how?
Marthin Feb 22
I feel really empty,
Lonely as I can be,
It's like swimming
the deep sea,
When there's no one
and nothing to see.

I feel really empty,
I feel it so clearly,
The void starts to call
and swallow me,
And leaving me with
so little sanity.

I feel really empty,
How can it be cured,
I want to escape and
break free,
But all I can do is

I feel really empty,
There is no cure,
The void starts to
consume me,
As I stare at the
room's door.

I feel really empty,
Or is it just me,
The sounds of silence
surrounds me,
Amplifying up my

I feel really empty,
Empty as I can be,
I've got no words
of glee,
Nor the backing of

I feel really empty,
Really, really empty,
Could this meaning
really be,
That the silence is
really meant for me.
Marthin Jan 14
You're the most beautiful symphony I've ever heard,
My feelings for you can't be expressed by mere words,
Your face exceeds of those like Mona Lisa,
Cause for me you are my only Prima Donna.

At first I really thought that we both were inlove,
Yet as time passes by, I noticed that yours wasn't really love,
Yours was mere flirtation that you always want to do,
While mine was pure affection, simple but t'was true.

As tale as old as time, and song as old as rhyme,
I created stories and songs, but you didn't have the time,
Made you a princess in every possible way,
As long as you were happy and smiling, I was okay.

Or maybe it's just me, who's overthinking everything,
Maybe you can't explain what you're feeling,
And maybe that you really do love me at all,
That you're just waiting for something to befall.

Curious and insecure as I can be at the moment,
I just don't want to give out any of my judgment,
I made this poem not because you're tiring,
But because I feel that, That one of us isn't Loving.
Marthin Jan 11
The archaic voices from above,
Through shattered hearts broken from love,
Minds upheaving in fluid motion,
Are unable to disregard certain deep emotion.

In valiant feelings and dreaded thoughts,
To deep longing and urges that were fought.
Late night conversations for release,
Are what makes my heart serene with ease.

Woe for the selfless individuals who parted,
From senseless pride that will never be sated,
In physical bruises to even painful scars,
For to care a beloved, your love must be boundless like the stars.
Bound lexical choices
Marthin Nov 2018
As day gradually turns to night,
when the sun moves out of sight,
your breath alone gives me warmth,
as we focus entirely on our art.

The way you move your cherry lips,
I move to seal the deal with a kiss,
the softness of your tongue I admire,
the vacuum of your mouth I desire.

You move in ways unexpectedly,
you change the world entirely,
your Hair slides like a waterfall,
and that's the reason of my downfall.

Your arms crawl like slender snakes,
your legs locks me into my place,
your grip is tighter than that of brakes,
yet you move serenely, full of grace.

As we move you go up and down,
It starts to make my voice groan,
We get crazy not afraid to be known,
But I become more when I hear you moan.

As we hustle under the throes of love,
the pain turns to pleasure if you're above,
intertwining our bodies till we collapse,
wishing that time would do overlaps.

We rest our bodies beside each other,
Thinking to myself that this is my lover,
Seeing you smile and I kissed you again,
Now the thoughts in my mind, only you remain.
Next page