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Born with a purpose,
Born with a curse,
Molded through a past,
Or marked with scars,
She falls a thousand times,
Like stacked dominos,
Hard to put back the way it was,
And so she will be risen,
Like a butterfly  gone through metamorphosis,
Spreading her wings as she rebirths,
ready to reach the peak of  the mountain,
ready for a fight, for a lesson,
ready to understand the reasons,
no guilt trips,
no blame  game,
she learned how touch turn misery into gold,
she learned how to win a rigged game,
and the nemesis would be tremble on its knees,
As she wins the fight,
she's fated to vanquish...
Brumous May 7
I tell the made-up stories of raconteurs
pouring their hearts out on empty paper

I help people learn, love, and laugh;
They dream with others as a source of
happiness, hope n' stuff

'your name' appears in books
that makes people cry

I am somehow a sanctuary of
people with dreams that remain fruitless
They use my name to fantasize about the times
they can never fully feel;

I, y/n.
Y/n is used in books called 'x readers,' y/n is an abbreviation of 'your name';
I wrote this from the perspective of y/n but, it isn't in the pov of the reader.

Y/n can be anyone, honestly.
Robert Rittel Apr 25
The pointed arc Manor house onset,
Angel sculptures silhouettes.
Light through stained gothic windows,
high chairs and gargoyle shadows.
Marbled floor rows of columns,
pointed sealing reached by slaloms.
Heavy gilded frame,
giving her aura a powerful claim.
Brightness from eyes that capture,
ageless beauty fracture.
Sensation trigger warmth,
her smile only conforms.
Her caring gesture so rich,
purple velvet and satin stitch.
Cross in hand with bushy cuffs,
staring more then usual enough’s.
Temperature fluctuation,
some cold brush past sensation.
Sacredness speak joy of tears,
understanding now her cares.
Some little gifts to know,
crafted beauty in soul still glow.
Cae Apr 22
that feeling you get when you see others living in the moment
you’re there in this moment, but not the focus of it
on the sidelines, you’re like a ghost
you aren’t part of the moment, but you contribute to its existence

like a side character, you don’t interfere
watch as the main characters make the moment clear
you don’t dare to step past the invisible boundaries, fearing you’ll ruin the moment

like a camera, you catch the moment, but you aren’t part of it
it’s like a coming of age movie, except you’re the extra with one line

people say you’re the main character, but you know that isn’t true
the main character doesn’t watch from a bench
the main character doesn’t swipe through stories of friends
the main character doesn’t stand under a roof as people play in the rain

you’re the side character, and you know it
you’re the side character, just living through the moment
Morgan Vail Apr 26
Though I love you, and I did,
I returned once more to the orchard.
Home seemed so far away,
Clasped in the hands of another.

Every dish washed another breath drawn,
The slick ribbons against the trees.
My love, my wonder, at my side.
Again, my demons embrace me.

Again did I stop outside of my haven,
Praying to a malevolent, unloving light.
Is it wrong to be so human, my doubts,
How could a grey sky be alright?

Why live if living is wrong,
If each whine should be a cry?
My bed felt more like teeth then,
Gnawing at me from each side.

The flowers bloomed under a night sky,
Adorned with all the things I should’ve confessed.
Once again I find myself in that time,
Yet with you I think only of what I’ve repressed.
Raven Feels Apr 16
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, the sun is beautiful--isn't it?:)

come back no more

retrieve those times free those ends skirting down the space

literal meanings of known

overflow in motions of waves I would never say

then them be tunes  symphonious to the ear

splendid in fear of eternal reveal

she in disguise no more

comes to a life

snatched in daze taken by hand

fight or flight said the drag to the glass

hesitancy in the eyes of guilt and rebel Mars

my heart flutters for the leave into the dark

a step between the light and the dark

no seconds no thirds on duty bark

turn the black and show the white hue

for a selfish moment for a stare for a blue

in the tremble memoirs are written upon floors for the remember

yet found in not an adequate resemble

lose me once then carve the doors awake

my feet lie on logs of take and not fakes

make up my soul

make up my mind

its not late for another chance another mistake

she in the adds

she in the lines

she for an escape maybe untouched by those

neither by these

cut my slate bring me to the reals forever sealed

for my eyes surreal

not for once not for dear

the sun brushes feather for the sight to near

an end of oceans to look up mercy on the seas

one jump to **** her gear

Good morning, Starshine

You're a gift to this world
I admire your generosity for others
Sharing freely from your heart

Your character inspires me
I recognize the resolve in your values
Challenging me to grow

Your spirit calls me
I thirst to know all of your secrets
Both broken and healed

Your energy moves me
I crave your touch
Addicted to the electricity it gives

Your soul sees me
I'm intoxicated by your words
Dismantling my armor

You're a beautiful creature
I'm thankful to intersect your path
Hopeful we can walk awhile
deadhead Apr 11
you cannot blame
others for the way you are.
you're the one that's
been creating your
character, after all.
Gemini Apr 10
Green Crow, blue crow, black and Indigo. Royalty or god, giant or troublemaker? Reality or fantasy? Green or blue? Thunder and mischief? Thunder or mischief. The brother always chosen first, even though the thunder was the worst. The one who was always meant to rule, however, forced to kneel by the mighty steel of sapphire flames in the blue square.
The prince with the emerald feathers held the frosted cold of winters runes, as night-lock waves as dark as the crows chest, blew with the wind of earth. Looking down on a broken planet reminded him of one thing. The shattered glass of a once sharpened blade laid to slumber in the beat of each rising breath covered behind moonlight skin. Emerald green behind gold ribbons. Frost cold temperatures covering the base of the rusty, gold, scepter as it rains down black lighting from the clouds, upon the home destined for further black from the outcast ‘’god of mischief.’’
Poem inspired by Loki from Marvel
Raven Feels Apr 1
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, don't pretend the innocence when you know that evidence:]

you know I'm a forest a wild sent rule crucial

scars abandoned on attached feels I call brutal

on you a ceiling too high to reach

far from the abnormals we share we teach

my sick matches your sick

your sick matches mine

it collides it ticks

burrowed from the glares of a daemon monster flare

been sold to the harsh heads

been kept at stake

the stark of shame

glosses of unhealthy addiction of reigns

no one knows nor understands us our meaning

things we used years to strive hard to achieving

rotten wolves as in our animalistic

in search of prey

a hellish nature fevered burning hate of the realistic

remind my mental

were owned by devils

not sentiments not rental

pretend the innocence when the obvious seeps

let go of the hold to grip on the recklessness that creeps

bent beats of unmeasured clefts but for the darker not the tender

a dominant number on the silent hypnotizing hummer

i ravish skins when control is no more

its hunger

shot on veins killed

****** out of blood

same as ecstasy

same as adrenaline

still racing on a flood

                                                         ­                          ------ravenfeels
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