Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
raw as a rock
crushes me
mighty like a meteorite
hits me
invincible as a bottomless
spiral
drags into the abyss
my fatuous beliefs
revealing
withered silhouettes
and
desolation
Wee dovey singing in tree,
The sun shall soon rise
Greater than love,
But not for me.

Red deer on the fray moors,
The winds embrace you
For you are rich,
But I am poor.

Wildflowers all bright in gang,
Good earth psalms you
Deep in rootings,
I never sang.

Dark feathered crow moaning,
I have suffered mean loss,
My truest love gone,
Now I must rove.
Pauline Morris Apr 2016
All of this torment
I did not consent
In all this suffering
There is no comforting
In all this despair
No one cares
In this grief
I get no relief
I am so spent
More than bent
In all this pain
I am not sane
In all this anguish
I just languish
It's pure desolation
If I failed to mention
With no more hope
I only cope
Pauline Morris Mar 2016
All of this torment
I did not consent
In all this suffering
There is no comforting
In all this despair
No one cares
In this grief
I get no relief
I am so spent
More than bent
In all this pain
I am not sane
In all this anguish
I just languish
It's pure desolation
If I failed to mention
With no more hope
I only cope
Liis Belle Jan 2016
I smile
I laugh
I play around
I make all things
Seem like a joke
It’s a mask I wear
So you don’t see
The sadness that has been
Choking me.

I almost look forward
To that unimaginable place
Where no one has lived
To tell the whole story.
But for the meantime, I’m here
In a world I wish to leave,
Trying to make time for all
The ‘useless’ things I wish to achieve  

And I still smile  
I joke around
So no one knows
I’m about to drown
The truth is there
If you wish to see
The desolation that is
Killing me.
A ballet

     B r o k e n

Little
Pieces

  A.  Hurricane
     like emille

maman droplets

    On the floor
  
          Emily !

    This little girl's
         Broken


*This little grls no more...
Anorexia Nervosa
Mia Anderson Jan 2016
The snow fell hard that day
as cold as the ice in my chest
Driving away was always easy
It wasn't until I slid into the snow bank
until my car flipped sideways
until I thought I might die
I thought of those I loved most

Sideways in my car
Unable to get out
stuck in the freezing winds,
I wanted to call you
But instead dialed 911
You aren't my lifeline anymore
I don't know if that is good
or if I am just desolate
All I know is,
I felt at home
Trapped in the snow
Please drive safe in winter conditions.
Jude kyrie Nov 2015
I am writing poems to the ghost once more.
The ones that wail in the space
Where my heart once lived.
Where sadness dwells in oceans
And longing drowned in their depths?
Let the ink spill in blue words
like veins onto the paper.
Once you collected all the stars
From the galaxy.
You pressed them into my eager hands.
To guide you through
All the darkness of life you said.
How could I ever stop the gods
from taking you away?
The one who could collect stars.
When you left I folded my heart
into a love letter.
And slipped it quietly into your soul.
To take with you to eternity.
I promised myself to stop
writing to the ghost.
But they are all the
comfort that remains,
So I write to them one more time.
As the dying embers of your stars
fade in my hands one by one.
my heart is made of scattered stars
glowing bright with their intent.

the constellation beautiful from afar
until the darkness comes.

Collapse is all there is.

the sweeping desolation.
shadows of once-brilliant celestial bodies
buried deep inside a shell with a
devastated soul.

my heart is made of scattered stars
that fold under pressure of
Love. Passion. Finality.
but when one star dies
the rest burn brighter
in the absence of its light.
¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯
perched atop a muddy graze          
amongst the reefing centipede        
does lady jade a’ponder days          
  from whence the eldest had decreed.

"what's this a'fuss upon the breeze
that sings a song of fallen trees?"

          a burnin' Birgham urn, aburn!
                                        a'crack—a'whack—a'wish..


was broadening—a shiver, swift—
bespoken of her crown to rest?      
what way whereby these spirits lift
      that hide should (of the head) contest?

"what, unbeknownst, should overwhelm
this silv'ry shoat, what's felling elm?"

          a burnin' Birgham urn, aburn!
                                        a'crack—a'whack—a'wish..


amidst a cruel cacophony,                
the lady seed, she must concede      
the razing of her progeny                
beholden to appease a need.            

"what's this in want of dire good
that preys upon upholding wood?"

          a burnin' Birgham urn, aburn!
                                       a'crack—a'whack—a'wish..


on arbor brawn does ardor dine    
    does earthen daughter march to meet
as tireless as the vile design              
divesting mother's gen'rous ****.    

"what subtleties uproot the heart
as bodies from their souls depart?"

          *
a burnin' Birgham urn, aburn!
                                        a'crack—a'whack—a'wish..


∘ ⊱‧⌍  ⌈✞⌋  ⌌‧⊰ ∞
﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋
Next page