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  Aug 2015 Raven Elle
Kassey Lane
Tears pooling in her eyes
Slowly, steady, realize.
Pull back to the beginning
Shamelessly pretending that your winning.
The hollow feeling in your chest,
How you pray for it to rest.
Hold your head above the shame,
Pull yourself together and play the game.
  Aug 2015 Raven Elle
Satyan Sharma
I am not a warrior
Who could impress you
With the way he plays
With his swords
And sheds blood.
Or with the throne
He sits on
With majesty.

I am not a billionaire
To win you with
The shining diamonds
And the yellow hue
Of the gold
And big cars.

I am a poet
I'll win you
With my words
With my delicate verses.

You'll dance to my verses
And then in ecstasy
Would they rise
Above and above
Till the fetters dissolve
And the letters fall
On you like petals
From the sky so empty
Into the world so dull
You the chosen one.

I will present to you
The garlands and necklaces
Made out of words
Carefully picked
Delicately pierced
Tied with the string
Of my passion.

The swords will break
The diamonds will whither
But lo my verses for you
Will remain after we die.

Warriors have fallen
Short of glory
The billionaires
Have the same story.
I won't claim mine
That which I deserve
But you'll give me that
My due my glory I deserve
By inspiring a few more verses
By listening to them
As I recite them to you
As they rise in ecstasy
Of being heard by my love
And the fetters dissolve
And the letters fall
Like the petals
From the sky so empty
Into the world so dull
On my grave.

— The End —