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Eli 5d
Lost a lot sea
The waves crash
Each one like a heart beat
The ocean is a sight of beauty
Even on its darkest of days
It will always bring me peace
There is beauty in its chaos
You just have to be patient enough
To see the beauty after a storm
Dylan 5d
Queen of spectral shadows hiding in her mirror
with a gossamer shawl coiled upon her nape.
Where sunbeams drape, she refuses to appear --
a hostage of somber fear not longing for escape.

The waterfall's frozen over,
the river no longer pours
when love cannot show her
the daylight anymore.

Mystic maiden in a labyrinth of graves
clinging to her orisons that go unheard.
The story's blurred by prolix waves --
we could paraphrase but the poets are lost for words.

The canopy's an illusion,
the firmament splits at the seams
when love feels like an intrusion
that stalks in her fortress of dreams.
Lydia 7d
Last night I closed my eyes and you came to me in the dark, just you in a room where you were surrounded by pitch black
Your face was blank, basically emotionless
as you stared back at me, it was like you were right in front of me and even when I opened my eyes your image was still fresh in my mind
No matter what I did I couldn’t make you go away
I didn’t feel scared of you but it just made me sad
Seeing you morph like my mind was remembering the details of your face and then you came into view the way I remember
As you,
with those eyes behind your glasses that they buried you in and that grey beanie that was on your head at your funeral, the one you wore to work so often, along with your other ball caps they removed from your desk
They told us we would feel so many ways for awhile after your loss
But no one mentioned you showing up in the dark
Scott I asked you to visit me. You were one of the only people I told about how I wrote poetry. If this is your way of coming to me, I see you. I miss you.
Jack May 24
Such a fickle soul,
Left to be tormented alone,
Loves to indulge in these temporary amusements,
Time has seemed like a fleeting moment,
How ungrateful of us not to savor every second we have,
The unnerved and unfazed,
Sweet sap of empathy,
Little grief for the lonely,
Melody of the weak,
With pale grey eyes,
Oh, lovely,
Why does it end so quickly?
The night draws nigh,
As the soul of demise basks in moonlight,

It will be your last light.
Dev Solanki Apr 30
I was waiting for my sweet release,
To find my peace, my soul's release.
For life has been a bitter pill,
A constant ache, an endless hill.

I write this note to say goodbye,
To tell the truth, to ease the lie.
I was a boy who tried his best,
But never could stand up to the test.

I disappointed those I loved,
A burden on them, always shoved.
I never did anything of worth,
A life of shame, a stain on earth.

I know that death is not the end,
A new beginning, a chance to mend.
But I can't bear this pain no more,
The weight of life, the endless chore.

So to those who read this note of mine,
Please don't feel guilty, don't resign.
My fate was sealed, my heart was cold,
My life was but a story untold.

My rendezvous with death is near,
But don't you shed a single tear.
For in the end, I'll find my peace,
And all my troubles will finally cease.
Crow Apr 20
the bells peal
in the hollow place
of the night

and the moon is
the cold light
of tenuous dreams
seen through
the strained fabric of
a threadbare sky

shadows of midnight words
pulled long and thin
by the weight
of expectation
sit by the road
waiting for redemption
that never comes

pallid night flowers bloom
in hidden places
adorned by a feeble glow
without scent
in their ragged flesh

words whispered by
constrained throats
are consumed

devoured by the ravening silence
blasting down
from oblivion
Achromic - Having no color
Bipolar Poet Apr 15
Seems I've already been here before,
searching endlessly in a void
A man trapped by the eyes of those who still see a boy

I guess I'm still yet to grow

There's an echo bouncing off the wall; back and forth
Swinging by, and whispering a sweet lie;
it could be the monsters, or just the voices in my head

Either way,
none of those sounds playing,
leaves me feeling a little bit scared

I should say a prayer,
but I've preyed on so much precious time,
I'm only left chasing the few seconds I have left
While being stuck in between an acute happiness,
and all the feelings of being depressed

There isn't an angle to explain how loudly
I want to scream at people's faces
Describing the colours of their aura,
mostly in their displaying hatred

But then again,
it may come out a little racist

I've come to find myself writing love letters to the dark

And the result:

the ugliness of the morning
to see such a beauty, of my dark art

                       ...bite your tongue,
                          as there are no other words
                          to speak of this
Just quietly shut your mind,
and open your eyes

                             This is the unholy piece
Shadows in the dark
can be more frightening than
those seen in the light
Written in 2020.
A fat man is walking,
with no boots on,
there he goes that *****,
on his great journey around.

He is staring at the reality,
from which he is away,
misery surrounds him,
and he laughs now at them.

The pain of all is a mockery,
to the fat man,
who has no boots on,
this is just typical humanity.

He has no dealing with it,
why would he be bothered,
decided just to strut,
and walk all over their dread.

Mocks them, they will not,
never ever understand,
pain of never being happy,
they only know sadness with happy.

He cherishes the mad walk,
and keeps going,
with his bare legs,
on the mud-filled path.

Women nursing children,
shouts at him,
he laughs cause he only sees,
the pain and misery awaiting.

The fat man laughs at the worker,
the toiler, a man with blisters,
what is there to bleed from,
their grit makes him hysterical.

All this noise chases him,
and he still laughs,
running on a land dry,
runs with that maniacal grin.

His feet take him to,
child with broken dreams,
men with hollow eyes,
woman with dried soul.

Did he ever see,
what he wanted,
can the fat man understand,
the true meaning of being happy.

The pain he seeks is all he sees,
he sees the horror and sorrow,
he grins and then,
goes in hysterics.

For he is the fat man,
with no boots,
he just wishes pain,
cause he loves to hate.

Oh, he just loves to hate,
all the joy in the world,
he wishes on their soul,
who has ever seen the good days.

The never-ending grief,
he wants to see, but he knows,
that this pain will also end,
and he walks away before it be.

These men, women, and children,
will get the fruits,
of their toil and care,
as they will see it to the end.

The end where is the light,
which forever shall allude this man,
this fat man who runs,
mocking and hating everything.

He never stays, he is scared,
those hopes will get hold of him,
touch his darkened soul,
and he would stop, try and see.

He just wants all to become him,
to loathe in regret, shame and greed,
await the ever-increasing sadness,
all be a part of black hole misery.
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