Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
megan-sherman-1Poems
Strange apparitions Moving kaleidoscopic Giving me migraines Keep me awake The world imbued with weird hue Augmented aura The voice is raucous Threateningly it tells me What it has in store I see death, decay My people are perishing At malice's hands These wild conjectures Billowing like forest fire Ravage my rapt mind I entertain them Believing in them and thus Imparting power To dark delusions. I didn't see that they'd lied That they'd peddled frauds That keep me locked in To perpetual horrors That torment the mind I converse across Continents. Had a whole chat Across oceans With a friend. It's mad. It's as if a radio Were lodged in my head As time elapses Their failure to fruition Any truth makes me Distrust the voices Cynical I raise my doubts They crow and laugh, but My feet on the ground I set to work destroying Their reality Trampling their world By recreating my own From the dull embers Brash, cantankerous The voices try forming thoughts But I don't listen A composition I write my own monologue Now, I am not theirs
0
Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 11:30 AM UTC
Getting Rid Of Ghosts
Strange apparitions Moving kaleidoscopic Giving me migraines Keep me awake The world imbued with weird hue Augmented aura The voice is raucous Threateningly it tells me What it has in store I see death, decay My people are perishing At malice's hands These wild conjectures Billowing like forest fire Ravage my rapt mind I entertain them Believing in them and thus Imparting power To dark delusions. I didn't see that they'd lied That they'd peddled frauds That keep me locked in To perpetual horrors That torment the mind I converse across Continents. Had a whole chat Across oceans With a friend. It's mad. It's as if a radio Were lodged in my head As time elapses Their failure to fruition Any truth makes me Distrust the voices Cynical I raise my doubts They crow and laugh, but My feet on the ground I set to work destroying Their reality Trampling their world By recreating my own From the dull embers Brash, cantankerous The voices try forming thoughts But I don't listen A composition I write my own monologue Now, I am not theirs
megan-sherman-1
Written by
megan-sherman-1
Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 11:30 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem