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 Jun 2017 S S
SøułSurvivør
When the words
All run together
And the apostrophes
Look tired.
When the asterisks
Are snowflakes
And your work is
Uninspired
It's time to gather
Up your kit
& time to rest
Your head
When you see
The page begin
To peel...

it's time to go to bed!


G'night all!
I've been up all night...
 Jun 2017 S S
Andrew Leparski
Heart, may very well be full of ink.
Ink to be spilled into open waters, that either constitute or dilute its beat.

Every now and then the ink dries,
and when the ink dries there is a scripture,
that seems to paint a picture. A picture... That causes a scene to be serene like a vision in a dream, colors swarm in cool blue and vivid green. With Eyes overtaken and hardly mistaken, vision becomes such a wonderful thing.… Such a wonderful thing.

Other times Ink spills from heart into mind...
Crossing a plane where obsessions and rejections split apart, dividing into sections to detect intention. Looking from afar will reveal reflection but internal detection is a parabolic lecture, so one can choose where to look and choose when to listen, and frame the picture in part of their vision..
A narrative of a concious stream of thought
 Apr 2017 S S
Traveler
If it could be
I'd live another
Drawn out mystery

Written like
A timeless novel
Infused in love
Let misery follow

Passionate life
With dreams alive
No need to wait
For the other side

Right there and then
Just like here and now
No need to live
Up in a cloud

If it could be
I'd set you free
And teach you
How to fly

To a place
Just out of reach
Where no one
Has to die
...
Traveler Tim
 Apr 2017 S S
GaryFairy
the stalker
 Apr 2017 S S
GaryFairy
i don't need you to dream about me
nightmares will do just fine
as long as you don't live without me
as long as i stay on your mind
 Apr 2017 S S
GaryFairy
gravity
 Apr 2017 S S
GaryFairy
I can feel the gravity
savage sadness grabbing me
like a stabbing agony
panicking heartbeat rapidly

like a drastic atrophy
the tapestry of travesty
applicable calamity
catastrophe is my canopy

the faculty of tragedy
with no strategy for amnesty
the laxity of sanity
I can feel the gravity
Long lived dreams
painted with clouds
in the sky,
so vivid,
just a touch away
from her delicate fingertips,

They keep her feeling alive,
they keep her wide-eyed,
whilst the salt
from the crashing waves
spray onto her dried up lips.

A fire burns brightly
deep down inside,
but she's too numb
to feel the pain,

Through her beautiful,
innocent, tired eyes
you can see the flame.

She pushes it all aside;
in her dreams
she finds a place to hide
again.

Every day
she does the same.

Exhaling as the sun sets
each and every night,

Dying, over and over again;
reborn, time and time again,
at the sight of morning's light.

Holding her own trembling hand,
trying so hard not to lose her grip,

Balancing
on the edge
of her world,
trying so hard
not
to
fall;
she won't survive
another slip.

Listening out for answers
howling in the vicious wind,
she fails to hears anything,

Clutching hope, and faith,
praying that her love for life
will conquer everything.

She's a fighter!
Tomorrow
she will be reborn again;
from the mountain top
you will hear her sing!

By Lady R.F. (C) 2017
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