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roumen Jul 2019
I promised not to love you.
No love.
My soul is crying.

I promised not to love you.
No love.
My body is fighting.

I promised not to love you.
No love.
My shadow is shouting .

I promised not to love you.
No love.
My kisses are dying.

Bus stop.
No love.
ruby May 2019
when we met there were those forces
that kept pulling us together
now I know it has been gravity
between matter
and antimatter
Em MacKenzie Apr 2019
I took my nails and buried them deep in my skin,
created paths and trails just to let me back in.
I haven’t known healing, maybe one day I’ll begin,
instead I’ll drown in feeling even though the water left is thin.

So take your worn out excuses
and your words that hold no weight.
I’ll be striking matches and lighting fuses,
‘cause a fire sign only knows one fate;
a blaze burning great.

Don’t mind the crying, and pay no mind to the ties,
I know when you’re lying before you even realize they’re lies.
Now a picture has been painted of a world with only one pair of footprints,
a reference that’s been tainted and shaded by the darkest tints.

So change your act just like your handles,
and there’s no morality to debate.
I’ll be striking matches and lighting candles,
‘cause a fire sign only knows one fate;
but I’ll still have to wait.

This dent in my shell;
another scar from a war
or maybe from Hell,
who can tell, anymore.
This dent in my shell;
another scar from a war
it didn’t bleed or swell,
but you know, that it’s sore.
This dent in my shell;
another scar from a war
this one is my death knell,
it shattered me down to the core.

I’ve had my heart broken so many times,
that I’m depleted of metaphors and running out of rhymes.

I took my nails and buried them deep in my skin,
created paths and trails just to let me back in.
I’m growing too old each day to never gain a win,
but you know they say nothing gold can stay, maybe next time I’ll stick with tin.

‘cause a fire sign only knows one fate;
it’s our defined trait and state.
‘cause a fire sign only knows one fate;
cremate and annihilate.
Hannah Apr 2019
There is noone above me
Beside me
Infront of me
I am my own anarchy
My inner soul of
Wisdom for that I have lived
For long and
Suffered twice as much
I wandered through the
Gazing abyss,
Flashlights of every submarine
I swim with my inner coward
The color of your eyes
Has been withdrawed
In the arms of sleep on a
Moonless night. On a
Windy day
Thunderstorm took me away.
an ark
of Noah
would disembody
a silvery
horse with
seraphim whether
res publica
rained on
earth with
quiescent nomads
and to
cloud their
creation in
planet of
thieves with
periods of
sporadic sea
Planer Thieves  by  Dan Krokos a movie
LeaK Sep 2018
Stellar mistreatment, meltdown; went down
Spectrum gushing, waving ocean
Exploring deplorable nether regions galore
Roots uprising, doubling be-headings

It's profound!
On the grounds of treason
The sound of suffering
The soul of season

Shimmer and I, be one
Till it gets to my guts
Blurting, hurting needs the new one
Replicating, replacing me dust to sun

Now, whole life turned into pun
Perfect one knows no one
As I lay as a stardust, have none
Cosmic wind blew and now begone
Simra Sadaf Jun 2018
in her beauty, the moon grows dim,
an ocean of thoughts raging inside your head,
perplexed whether to sink or swim,
you drown in the things left unsaid.

her touch could kindle flames,
the shrine of thine eyes,
has left you speechless,
she was your destruction and demise.

your heart skips a beat
when you hear her voice,
unknowing this was all a deceit,
this chaos was your own choice.

you are exhausted from being tamed,
she told you she is yours to have and hold,
her sweet lips broke the promise they proclaimed,
and soon her cruelty began to enfold.

your heart is desolate,
trapped into love's snare,
searching for a word stronger than hate,
God alone can save you from this despair.
Devare May 2018
Dark V.S. Light
We portray darkness as pain and suffering.
We view it as a place of evil.
But what if that darkness is home.
What if that darkness is an escape from the light.
What if the light suddenly became portrayed as pain, and suffering. What if light became our evil.
A place where light became darkness and darkness became a place of solace, a keepsake, something we hold onto.
Light creeps into our dreams, and our minds.
Like a parasite latching onto a host for survival, light wants to take over.
As it creeps into our thoughts, telling us that light is good, that the light wants to help, wants to keep you safe.
Darkness is all you’ve ever known, you haven’t felt pain, and suffering, nor anguish.
The light wants to change that, as it watches above like a hawk stalking its prey, or a snake blending in with the shrubs and dirt. How can you trust light, light brings nothing but destruction and annihilation, But… What if the light is what you are missing.
That hole in your heart that you could never fill.
That craving you’ve been having, but could never satisfy.
But in the end, light rejects you and leaves you with nothing.
Syed Afaq Ali May 2018
A gloomy midnight—I rested
beneath a starry veil, where
drenched sky shrinks
hiding a tear, flowing,
latterly floating.

Silent the tear is
to honor the nature,
to honor the rain,
making it annihilate
in other aqueous.

As sky turns,
the tear gets burnt
with all compassion,
casting depression
towards the fear.

How peace would've,
if it stayed in
my eye,
its coffin.
merciless genocide
     slaughter of native peoples
     wrought with (super) wanton zeal
feeble ability to thwart

     "discoverers" rapine wicked onslaught
     merely ratcheted wrecked webbing
wrenched tribal unity,
     violently rent asunder

     vibrant indigenous linkedin weave    
rendered sacred weltanschauung
     decimated "noble savage"
     woke wretched nightmare,

     sans pock marked worsted weal
the Native American holocaust
     shrouded in whitewashed veil
tragedy trampled truces

     triggering tearful trail
scoped scattered remnant
     snuffed out via surveil
futile sympathetic remonstrances,

     viz rant and rail
hermetically sealed
     ***** deeds done dirt
     blunted, cheapened,

     and deadened
     lance armstrong to quail
most definitely coloring faces
     of captive

     American Indians deathly pale
into figurative coffin
     got hammered
     rusty nine inch nail

subpar critical population mass
     for survival, plus storied "red man"
     bereft of ample potent male
off limits to original proprietors

     forced to hightail  
happy hunting grounds o'er hill and dale
becoming desiccated bleached bones
     devoid of awful, pitiful,

     and sorrowful fait accompli
and roaming spirits
     like banshees bewail
grievous shadow a blot doth cause me to ail!
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