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Luna  Nov 2015
Broken
Luna Nov 2015
I am a broken glass.
I am an empty mug.
I am a withered pine.
I am a tasteless gum.
I am a burnt out pipe.
I am a falling star.
What should I do?
Where should I go?
Luna
gracie  Feb 2018
withered roses
gracie Feb 2018
a million years ago
my mom told me
there’s a light at the end of every tunnel
but I don't hold my breath
as we drive through them.

it's always cold
when I come home
'cause I'm the dark one
in my household.

the silent halls howl
with aching echoes
as my heels
clickety clack
  across the linoleum tiles.

beside my bed
sits a vase of withered roses
floating like corpses
in milky water.

I hate them.
every petal, every thorn
but I can't bring myself
to let them go.

is a beast still bad
if she cries in her sleep?
‘cause she’s broken and numb
but the world still turns.

she doesn't try
to be evil
she just forgets
to achieve perfection.
Jasmin  Jun 2018
withered... not
Jasmin Jun 2018
i plant seeds of solitude
water them at 12 noon
it sprouts every midnight
dies when you’re around.
but you were never around, were you? || it's my fault to depend on you
Timothy Jun 2013
Withered flow'rs from long ago preserved still,
Though long since dried they contain no perfume;
Gone is the loved one, lingering at will
On the memory and within my room.
Withered thou might be, but I love thee best
As thou wert, but now within my frail mind;
I see thee as yesterday, but thy rest
Among the angelic choirs I shall find,
Thy form once more as that delicate flow'r.
This cherished thought shall always be within
My heart, and henceforth each and ev'ry hour;
This is my love and it shall never end.
Throughout all of these—my remaining years,
The memories of thee, shall rain as tears.






**~Timothy~
© Timothy 3 June, 2013.
Umi Aug 2018
Tell your tale to the wind,
Be scattered across the sky, sing without ever being rewarded,
The falling of the leafs may be a sign of change, a warning of colder times crossing your path in this loitering darkness which takes over,
Allure is the thought of hope guiding, leading, escorting you through the misery of your own conscious, out to a far more pleasant world.
Wretched, you fight on as it slowly slips away, loses its strengh,
It is heartbreaking to watch them trying to get back, not flinching despite their wounds and scars they carry from the river of time,
Stained in crimson at last the flower petals of the falling season, reflect upon death repeatedly, with each one falling the soil cries out.
Take a dance with me in this distorted somber dark there is nothing to be sad about, the fate to be forgotten is the fate of every face, one day,
They wither over like the roses during autumn, fall from grace alike the petals of the sunflowers when their time to leave for the next generation has come, or alike the dandelions scattering their seeds,
But most importantly, is to not forget that whilst existing you can make a change, for yourself, for the better, for others,
Maybe you are their light their flower of a spring dream.
Even if humans continue to live wretchedly,
Living, is what I find very beautiful.

~ Umi
Don't cross the border of the conscious too early, fall when the time to wither has come.
As he walked through a forest he knew so long ago,
He sees a withered oak.
A proud thing.
A proud memory.
A proud day.
A proud history.

And yet all he feels now is the darkness of the shadow it casts.
He sees the leaves the rain soaks.
He has no song to sing.
He has nothing to be.
He has gone no way.
He has her in his dreams.

The rain continued as his clothes get wet, smiling at the memory of their first kiss.
It was like this...thing.
He can’t say it another way.
It was something to see.
It was something to light their day.
It was something meant to be.

He sighed and sat down under the far reach of the branches and watched the drops float down slowly; watching them made him happy, and yet they made him sad. They reminded him of the way the were happy, then sad. He laughed at his deep, philosophical banter. Is this not like our love, my dear?, he thought. One moment you’re soaked to the bone and trying nothing more than to run away when all you’d want more is to rush and play in the mud with eachother like children? Hm...and when the cloud are done weeping and they’re once again light with joy, what becomes of us? We simply dry our selves and go on with our full lives again....
Although...if it were meant to be...we'd simply fly and run in the field and let the sun have its way on our skin, no matter how sweltering it makes us feel.

And with that his thoughts were clear as he sat in that knoll.
Under and on that withered oak.
Its leaves laughing with the memories.
Laughing at the two of them.
Sighing at the sight of them.
Praying for the child of them.

And with that rain, each drop gave life to the leaves.
That grand oak.
Withered under its memories
Laughing at its own roots.
Barely a look under mans boots.
And yet, still strong enough to give its support.

———————_————————__

She walked up to that tree they used to love.
And found him lying there.
His skin still so fair.
But pale in comparison of what it used to be.
So she played there with him. Laughing with the tears of the sky. At what they used to be. Then in each other’s arms, they die.

The sun shines, and a shadow under them begins to bloom, letting the sun do what it pleases on their skin. There will be no joy for them this time though; they ran their last the day before.
Part 1
Lyrical Dream Dec 2018
His tired mind
was locked in a wicked
cell of illusion,
bounded by a seemingly
impossible freedom

A forced vision
constantly replaying
on the surface
within his skull:

a fear that his world would

collapse
at
his
feet

Why does he weep without reason?

There was no sadness,

only an empty voice and a mind racing against itself to a nonexistent destination
Sky  Nov 2014
Dreamcatcher
Sky Nov 2014
Frown upon my withered heart!
and wipe away my tears.
Catch the nightmares, catch my dreams,
ensnare my childish fears.

Protect me, Catcher, put me down
and watch me sleep to-day.
the worries they encase me,
my dream’s the price I pay.

The morning comes unfiltered
the cycle is broken for now
Oh Catcher! my Catcher!
My faithful night snatcher!
Laid a kiss on my wavering brow.
I love my dreamcatcher
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