Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Kyne Nov 2011
A saccharine
*****
A broken home.
A cellophane
*****
A scribble-wrought tome.
Nothing left
A shadow of
Me.
Nothing left but
Leaves fallen from their tree.
This blood that flows down
Is colored violet
This blinded eye,
A sightless white orb,
Glows in this darkness
And glows in my heart.
So corroded and rusted
The life barely flows
A forgotten relic,
A left-behind rose.
A cracked-glass
Man
All bloodied and torn.
A steampunk
****
Left behind in your
Revolution.
Kyne Nov 2011
Does anyone know?
Can they sense the break?
The hollow-cheek’d innocence
Is a facade and a joke.
The bleak world
Which consists
Of:
Battered feet;
Bleeding from wear,
Cracked skin,
Stitched lips,
And no one could care.
This painted on smile,
and the bulge of the worms
Which writhe and feed
Inside my skull,
The shiny little lights of agony
That burn in my eyes
They burn beyond reason
and I am lost
Can they sense the break?
Does anyone know?
Kyne Nov 2011
Oh circle of lights,
With your false,
Plastic,
Warmth.
Oh circle of lights,
A firework’s ,
Bittersweet,
Farce.
Down at the bottom
Only a hint
Of your color
Remains.
Water-logged and drowned
Left to dry
In my arms.
Lips parted
And black water spills
Forth
Gathering in matted locks
Like grimed pearls.
When the screams
Go forth
So musically
Left to escape
In whimsical bubbles.
Oh circle of lights
Your false
Plastic
Warmth.
Is all that I see,
Oh circle of lights
Your colors mangled
As a drowned man’s
Farce.
Kyne Nov 2011
The bittersweet last dregs,
Of the Kings last glass of wine,
Reflect small worlds,
And cosmoses;
Only to be seen in those,
Quiet moments,
When the sun is but a dream,
In the canvas of the sky.
When the stars become fond,
Memories of the moon.
The worlds unravel into beings
And beings become sparks of light
As the draught is swilled
And swallowed by
A man who controls fates.
Kyne Nov 2011
Dark souls bound
by non-death to the shadows;
Wandering, wallowing,
Looming.

Fingernails like fishscales;
chipping. peeling.
tearing at my flesh.
a last soul-torn scream.

mute-silence
carved-out tongue
corrupt. filthy.
absolution comes to none
like they--

like me.
dark souls--
Good God, now me!

eyes. cataract-blind.
fingers numb.
teeth ache.
no way to cleanse
the blood.

putrid. *****. wretches.
eating marrow
from the bone!
--
Wretched me!
I'm eating marrow
from the bone.

all gone hollow inside.
no gore can ease the agony.
moldering away.
rotting.
a zombie, a zombie.

don't you wish you were
undead like me?
Kyne Nov 2011
Inhibitor and catalyst;
A look can do either.
I always wonder what,
Goes on behind those brooding lips.
Are words locked between your teeth,
Unspoken on your tongue?
I wish I could taste and see,
And steal such words away.
But words unspoken, that greatest sin,
Rest on my tongue as well.
Oh what things, what things,
Might have been,
Between we silent obelisks.
Kyne Nov 2011
The upward curve of your lips
Framed in a bristled haze of
Eternal stubble. Long fingered
Beautiful hands. Sure and gentle
Buttoning those stiff collared shirts
With the stripes you always wear
Except to bed. How do I say how I
Love your thick hair and your scent?
Can I express how good it feels to lay
In your arms and feel those gorgeous fingers
Splayed on my back. Or how eagerly you wake me
In the morning, when its still grey outside.
And how you make fun of me when I throw
Flat rocks. Spending all my time finding the perfect one
When you can skip any stone you pick up,
And count the skips just so you can
Say that you’ve thrown more.
Holding my hand and running through the woods
Those manhole covers
Were too heavy to take home.
And you became home. For four days.
I saw your smile
And noticed it was crooked and loved it all the more.
Next page