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Holy water
   cannot help you now

A thousand armies
   couldn't keep me out

I don't want you money
I don't want your crown

See, I've come to burn
Your kingdom down.
Ashes, ashes and they all fall down.
Part of an original piece by Florence and the Machine.
Maitri Mishra Jan 27
And Again I am left alone
Into the darkness of unknown thoughts
My mind processes to get me a  throne
Set me to the  crown that had Hall of shows
Purity , Pressure and Post gets to my notes
All I have done is made me believe what is known
Neutrality, Morality and curiosity are my favourite wrong projections
All that I understand is fed into me to be a variation

The vulnerability of my life is thrown into the shadows
My cloud of loneliness is  heavily raining
Nobody is here to save me from drowning
Ignorance and unloved are major role shows
Nobody gets me but want to go bold
The only thing I hate now is me that has no goals.
Grisha S Nov 2020
Once there was a girl,

Who was often seen with her black dress unfurled

She had no family, no friends, not even a name,

But still, there were many who envied her dark fame

She was many times spotted in the night,

Sitting on a cliff, admiring the moon without a fright

Depressed about her past, sad about her present and future,

Knowing there will be nobody ever,

To her who will nurture

She had a pale face with deep and cold blue eyes,

In those, you could not see any secrets or lies

Away from the people, she roamed in the darkness,

Many said there was another world in which she would ingress

This girl was called by many names-

The Lady of Dark, the Empress of Shadows

As with her aura, she could frighten even the toughest of the foes

But there was one name that donned her a crown,

Though nobody would say it when she was around

For she was the one who ruled the land of no light,

That is why she was called the Queen of Night.

- Grisha. S
This poem is about a girl who possesses no secret or vanity. She is the personification of sadness inside all of us. Does she look the way you expected her to be?
Anemone Nov 2020
And so with golden crown and silver scepter
The weight of the world on your shoulder
You look once more at that pretty little rock
And see a mighty strong boulder
The fields are filled with dizzy day blues.
I see them in the daisies
I pick while thinking of you.
I weave my dizzy day blues
And make my crown,
So I can wear my dizzy day blues
For the world to know I'm down.
And even when I smile
I still wear my crown with sorrow,
Because all I want to do
Is lay down in my field
And stay in the dizzy day blues.
KAE Nov 2020
I’m a queen
I’m strong
I’m independent
I don’t need of someone. I don’t need of anyone
I have confidence
I’m mature
I love myself
I don’t need a men. For nothing. Neither to protect me or love me
If someone tells me that I can’t do something, I’ll prove them wrong

I will raise to my throne like a dancing fire to take my crown to my top
I’ll make people respect me like they’d singing a chorus of song
I will be fear and I will be soft
But the most important of all
I will be a priority. I will be listened. I will take care of myself. I will love me like a king loves his queen.
I will raise from this hole of darkness to see the light again to take what is mine back
I’m the wolf that will never bow down to a men because I only bow down to this raising queen
tiny speck of gold,
an insignificant, grain of sand,
realised, it's equal to the land,
how could that be, tumbling wavewashed on shore?
how could so tiny, be deemed much more?
it took a lifetime shoved, and tossed by years,
eroded, polished, in saltwater tears.
Never even daring to dream,
sparkling tiny, in sunlights beam.
A fleck of dust, so small, so low,
how can it contain this sunlight so?

Once fairies said to a little girl,
"the truth, can bring you to our world,
we in fairy can be met,  let truth ring like a bell."
Believing their story, remembering well,
a speck of gold, caught in giant golden hive,
which entered the room, lying down on its side.
Cogs moved and whirred,
lifted this vessell up,
an insignificant, tiny head, bowed down,
two angels, one  placed a medalion, another a crown.

Returning to earth with invisible, otherworld treasure,
pushed aside by the men, snided down by their measure.
Her little heart buzzed, like a bee aloud,
mood altering peace, floated high on a cloud,
been swatted, and hurt before and then,
karmically bound, to unravelling men.
They hit out at small, they trample it down,
those haughty sunflowers, came tumbling down,
sat amongst grasses  crushed,
down and trampled,
bending and blowing
tho' eternally growing,
throughout all lifes storms, never fully broke,
ribbon of grass stronger than windfallen oak.

Fairytales are true,
if only men knew,
they definitely would not, do the things, that they do.
It's never too late to learn,
how to avoid infrared, radiation burn,
funnelled and furnaced in a cosmic dance,
never dare leave destiny, to luck and chance.
I don't know why it happened this way. I'm not versed or educated in poetry other than the fact I love to read poetry, I have not a clue of the rules, just writing to blank my mind from too man -y thoughts
Hussein Dekmak Oct 2020
The bread you eat?
The clothes you wear?
The car you drive?
The vacation you take?
The house you own?
The money in your bank account?

Or is your worth:
The rainbow of people's dreams?
The catalyst of positive change?
The smiles on friendly faces?
The gratitude from an individual's lips?
The Mecca of someone inspirations?
The crown of human hearts?

Hussein Dekmak
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