Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
You control me,
but for some reason,
im okay with that.
Being dictated by
you, is something
i like.
So bad but so good
How strange life can be sometimes you blinded by
what changes you see an ever-changing world to where we
live
Sadly I don't see all changes as being good there Is a lot of bad In this world but dig deep and there Is well hidden beneath the
surface
Really kind people always ready to help advise just be there In times if needed It seems once people gain power that's when they change
It to there the greed for riches creeps In
and corrupts I suppose that's just way It Is and always will be I just think It's so sad ordinary people
they are the ones who suffer every
time
So much bad In this world but If you dig deep below the surface there's a lot of good
people who will help be there for the needy
Hard to move on
Temptation way to strong
Emotions flood my mind
Taking all of my time
These feelings can’t be mine
Yet I sit here
Writing line after line
Trying to reassure myself
That my decision was sound
Should I
Risk it all
Last call
This love is a demon
A drug I’m weaning
These thoughts keep screaming
Shut up
I don’t want to be feening
Watching my goals unfold
Is costing my soul
Here I am,
deep down...
deep down...
deep down into the dark night.  
Swept up by
Sadness' stench.

I am floating nowhere.  
I want to move my feet
one and then the other,
one and then the other.
I ****** my feet
faster than a boat propeller;
but I have two solid bricks of ice
where my toes used to be.

I am still floating,
deeper and deeper
into nowhere
until time and space
are lost friends.

Everything swiftly
slips
from my fingertips.
She was a daisy dipped in cyanide.

     Her petals when they descended
    like tears corroding
           what ever they fell upon.

Kissing her was like razor wire
on
          my senses,
and everyone
                        lacerated deep.
Scaring me every time we touched,
But what is a touch  
                          without painful ****.
In this court of thorns and roses,
There are immense threats that life poses.
However, through this endeavour,
They spar to undertake and sever.

They, the ingenuous wonder who 'they' are,
They are the spirits and psyche that haul you afar,
They are the facets that stow you awaken,
And the vital force that fore you of the forsaken.

But, though you are stirred,
Which is everything except the eerie wind,
You still don't possess the viciousness to brawl,
Or to discern the phenomena that enable the pneumatic to at least sprawl.

Sprawl, let solitary, its hard enough for you,
As an intellect, to understand, to *****,
All the thoughts and doubts you wish to abandon,
Until by the stupor you understand, that they who you wished to envisage were the omnipotent and his drudges that are abounded.
The dispiriting prison bar is now your frontier,
What left your character drowned in blood,
The environment draws you with fear,
Your living corpse plunge to the befoul scud.

The critics, the juries, virtually invisible enemies,
You need to hear their loathe in the darkness,
Around all these hopeless entities,
It's a woeful depiction of inferno.

They got knives of deception and treachery,
As you turn your back, they stab, you kneel,
Wish you die in a blink, yet torture gradually,
You have entirely deviated the vocation to heal.

Victims learn from mistakes,
You never did,
They will hurt you again for all sakes,
But then you realize you're stuck amid.
In the gleaming lustre of joy,
There's a requisite factor,
A hope to seek some buoy,
And to resist the impulse to shatter.

I open my palms to the divine,
And beg for a prodigious fate indeed,
Listening to the cries depicting the sign,
Until despair eats me up inside, counting as a need.

But is it genuine?
That all corpses turn to the might,
I neglect the thought and continue with the credence of men,
As thought it leads me to the height.

Alas, anyway,
Despite the greed to reign,
In a shallow corner of my bay,
I yet restrain, the hope to attain.
I told the Genie for my third and final wish, that I wanted my family to be happy.

Then I started fading.
Why does the Moon seem angry tonight?
All red she has gotten.
A moment ago she was pale and serene,
As the poets describe her to be.
But now she resembles Mars's twin,
Only crescent not quite round like him.
The sky is a blend of black and blue,
Not many stars in sight.
Is it why Selene is unhappy,
'Cause the stars were late and sloppy?
Or did she quarrel with the Sun at dusk,
'Bout solstices and equinox?
Or maybe she is annoyed at the clouds,
Who her pretty face did shroud.
Can it be that she is cold?
'Tis after all a December's night.
Or it might be that she is blushing,
Thinking of meeting her sleeping Valentine.
Oh no it can't that,
For she surely seems bitter.
Is it something I've done?
If only I knew what, I could make amends.
But I pray that ain't the cause.
Next page