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Shane Leigh Apr 2020
It echoes back
like childish laughter
staying with me
long, long after
The memories of the cave I'm in
will cry
and then consume me again.
It's a work in progress ... I just had a jumble of words and put them together lol
A M Ryder Apr 2019
In romantic relationships
You speak Latin
And your empire falls

In platonic relationships
You speak Greek
And think about caves
Colm Jan 2019
There is a cave
Within a cliff
Beside a great waterway

And I don't know
That it exists

How the ocean moves and carves it's way
Without me watching it every day

How the caves of mind turn ever in
In their unexplored and unannounced way
Robin Carretti Jan 2019
In the pink, it made her truly
Admire something amazing
Not even his smile to think
"The Caves of Dargilan"
It was quite the art like
The caves of wonder magician
He was touched by
her baby pink beauty

The words formed inside
Color divine cerise
Message to heart from
the Prince
The cave smiled
with pride
She felt loved rosy glossy
Like the Epiphany, she hears
his symphony glow the caves show
The perky lovely side of pink
protected who decides

To paint it pink more
to think
Her hot lips magenta
To her fancy the Diva
Merci Beaucoup
Caves The New Year
story whoa what a scoop

No time for blushing pink
bride jury loop to loop
Good heaven's glory
To the highest authority
Caves crafted in his
duty like a ritual her smile
Lifted petal pink gravity

Love of France in a trance
Her eyes what discovery
A balance of love symmetry
Caves are mysterious
Her lips shadow to be kissed
Never missed in the cave
work of art never to part
I hope this
The pink language of the caves in my own world please join us
Crystal Freda Jan 2019
in the darkness

she hears the silence echo

like the air has a voice

and it follows where the winds go...

she listens for bats

to shriek through their wings

after fleeing from the light

her flashlight brings.

she stumbles on each crack

and shivers from the thought of breaking,

the light flickering on the path

from her frightened hands shaking.

soon her fear subsides

when a light appears at the end.

a great relief to her eyes

only the sun could send.
Ian Robinson Jan 2019
I call out
To a shallow cave
And in return
I get a shallow reply
The pillars in the caves
Encrypted and engraved
Ancient they are
Have stood for ages
Weathering changes
Light cold rain dark , the sunshine all gone
The pillars in the caves stand tall
There is a story , many told
Lost in ages ,memories old
Something to be found
The story profound
Only the brave hearts
Unravel the mystery of the history
The strength of the pillars
Ancient they are
Not everyone can and would want to know
Ancient caves have pillars , with encrypted text , that’s mesmerising and mysterious
Ella Alvarez Jun 2018
Hey, Siri. Take a note.

Take a note for every time I make a new document to write a paper for class, only for you to power down in 2 paragraphs, because I've observed your patterns and my studies show that I can't depend on you. You crest and trough in intervals so irregular that if someone were to trace your path, from 79 percent, to 58, to 31 and 79 all over again, they'd be able to outline the Sierra Madre.

Take a note for every time you black out like the lights in a house of a horror movie, as dread like waiting for a spirit beyond the door overcomes me, because you know what -- forget the jumpscare, your sudden death already caught me unawares.

Take a note for every time my heart stops over a powerbank left at home, because not even halfway through my Grab trip, you're full, half full, all gone.

Take a note for every time you register a full green bar one minute, only to drop to 15% in two, because I'll have you know, I'm through.

Take note - I'm disappointed in you.

You make my face light up one second, only to dim into a faint red glow the next.

You've proven yourself unreliable; how can I call you my friend?

You're my heart's ultimate puppeteer, second to none,

You get me charged up only to drain me of the color in my face like the green in the corner, full, half empty, all gone.
****, I could toss you aside, falling to my knees,

Watch your screen crack, shatter, cave in

As its glass shards fly and pierce my skin

Ripping my chest to shreds as my heart takes a piece, but that can't be,

because you tore it apart when you powered down on me!

You're the reason I think the glass is half empty, and I… am empty.

I stare into the void of my dead phone screen -- black. Low battery.

I see wrinkles creasing through my forehead, the bags beneath my eyes,

I see dilated orbs drained of any vigor, any life.

I see my reflection on this black mirror, devoid of any expression whatsoever.

No curves lifting the sides of my lips, no pink flushing both my cheeks, just me, soulless.

I'm empty. It's funny. Through you, I see a girl

who crests and troughs at intervals so irregular,

Who's traced the outline of the Sierra Madre on herself,

Who cracks quicker than glass once she's fallen to her lowest

Who realizes that maybe she's been too ******* you, that maybe she should take a look at herself before she opens her mouth,

before she cracks, shatters, caves in,

glass shards flying, spreading thin.

I stare down at your screen's shards across the floor,

I realize how I can't put you back together, not anymore.

I'm very sorry. I have no words.

I guess you can say… I'm full, half empty, all gone.
inspired by the time my phone's battery enjoyed crapping out whenever it felt like.

this one goes out to the inconsistent friends who fail to keep their promises.
Carrillo Feb 2017
An inquisitive mind—flourished from oppression into a cave as rich as Reed mine
Where tourists can flood my thoughts
Pick at my gold and sell it for their lives
Stabilizing their own
While weakening my historic rise
Greed increases, and relationships are seceded
Because everyone wants to obtain sacred pieces

Wandering through pixels of distorted visions
Gatherers become hunters
Painting with blood, their own ambitions
Setting standards for the continuing generations
In turn, a figurative genocide
For the sake of remaining proclamations
Paralyzing, terrorizing, and destroying indifferent others

If time manipulates unfortunate events, perhaps the solution
Is just the opposite
Creatures of habit soon face an evolution
Once protagonists reach a state of lucid retribution
It defines them as antagonists playing a role of uncanny acts
The renowned vigilantes use time as their sword
To reenact their own demise and call unto their lord

Scattered within the affluent cave
The people and their children
And their children's children
Are enslaved, digging their own graves while being influenced by vacuous hopes and darkened shapes
The repetitive motions devolved into psychopathic notions
They attempted to escape but were punished for breaking the rotation
Whipped, humiliated, and shamed
The cave insulated the pain
By offering priceless artifacts
Within my knowledgeable den
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