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Soloy Jun 2020
The butler knows
of sorrow untold
He feels so cold,
only the warm glow
of evening
finds him
solace
from what he knows.
                                                          ­                                    points turning
                                                         ­                         opportunities infinite
                                                        ­                                 he thought of not
would render whole dreams forever irredeemable.
His heart was breaking.

All was over. No point dwelling on. Look further beyond.
lest human warmth he needs, banter be the key to what he seeks
Fire is red,
ashes are black,
go to hell,
and never come back!
This is a funny poem I came up with when I was roleplaying as a certain butler.. *ehem* Black butler fans.. (Sebastian Michaelis) I also roleplay as Ciel... I Made a poem in response for this... To begin Sebastian gave a poem to a maid.... I forgot it, but it was beautiful (Sorry).. The young lord asked him for a poem sarcasticly... This is the poem Sebastian gave him..
Akemi May 2016
the bottle twists
glass falls in drifts
and air parts like flesh

there’s a terror beneath this city
trucks enter from out of town and shake the power lines
passing without pause

sometimes birds gather for days
chirps grow exponentially
before tailing into silence;
heather and brimstone
little bodies roll to the edges
and burst on the streets in red regalia

a somnolence keeps the city forgetful
time flows in fits
a streetlamp; a raven; ten gravestones
it all runs without moving

vessels dilate
hands hold themselves

there’s nothing to breathe with
an empty chalice, turned on the hour grants
heaving clenching writhing
an ocean of rust
bulb shatters, blood spills out her
mouth cave head turn faith
the world remakes itself
*******
the colour of sunflowers
bicycle chains
thirst
colonialism
wet paint

emptiness over emptiness
act without agent
lack lack lack lack lack lack lack lack lack lack lack
peel the flesh and find flesh
always more flesh
don’t stop they know better
chirp chirp chirp
turn
exit
substance
purpose
nothing
4:45pm, May 1st 2016

the broken frame; the endless egress
BAT Kahnert Apr 2015
My butler, Dearest butler,
Please come hither to thee,
Show they self to be proper
When in the presence of me.

In the doorway you linger
So tall and straight you stand
As you bow you head low
To patiently await my command.

I stay in my bed and whisper,
I ask for you to be at my side
So I can confess myself to thee
And tell how you've satisfied.

"I'm greatly old fashion, I know.
I'm elderly, wrinkled, and frail."
I reach out for your gloved hand,
I'm cold and frightfully pale.

My butler, Loyal butler,
I give you a golden reference
For you are truly perfection,
Magically knowing my preference.

One last task is I give to you,
Stay near me now awhile
To comfort me once more
With your genuine smile.

My butler, Loving butler,
I have little time left, it's true
So pay me one last request.
I have a question for you:

When I die, where will you be?
Will you stay close and greave
And carry me to my final grave?
Or will you just simply leave?
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