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ajasco Mar 27
at dusk, and for a brief moment
i sat at the edge of the setting sun
a single breath away from unravelling
because the universe had conspired against me
and the goddess, whom i loved
was nowhere to be found.
A life of many,
A life of not.
To know any,
To know rot.
I have seen,
for what I have not.
I have done to know,
That I cannot.
Escape my rage,
For I have wrot,
Is my own cage.
A nightmare,
That I broken.
A sage of mirrors,
For I have sought.
No reflection,
No dedication,
Anything I have knot.
Everything is futile,
For it is eternally mine.
I had some musings of a circle and entrapment, to live like one’s died, so I wrote this poem.
From the first breath I’ve drawn,
I’ve sought for mountains to climb,
Oceans to swim.
Digging through patches of dirt,
without an end in sight.
An endless persecution for breathing.
Lingering, coasting, and wasting away.

Galavanting with thoughts of an end,
Lost in the forest of trees.
Sinking deep in the ocean of blues.
Strolling beneath a sunless sky.
I was convinced this lifetime was meant to be brief-
Filled with agonizing adventures made to be savored.
Bound to happiness that was evanescent,
slipping away before I could ever fully grasp it.

A future deprived of certainty,
Where nothing awaits.
A garden where nothing grew,
Empty of yearning.
My end awaited me,
and the sentiment was mutual.
Tears blurred my vision as I bowed to defeat;
Whispers of the first ripple of conflict.

Perhaps if my mind were sharper,
they’d see worth in my words.
If I bent to serve the world,
maybe I’d earn a place.
If beauty clung to me like air,
they might drown just to feel me.
But as I am-
a shadow with a pulse-
I am seen, but never held.
If I were anyone but me-
maybe then, I’d matter.

Glimpses of light at the very end of a never ending tunnel,
It beams of longing-
shining with promises of a future never meant to be mine to hold.

But even shadows stretch toward the sun,
and somewhere beneath the ache,
a pulse still fights to be felt.
Maybe-
just maybe-
I am not made to be vanished.
This breath is not the end,
but the beginning of becoming.
I can still burn.
Still become.
Not despite the chaos,
But because of it.
Transition from despair to a realization of desire - leading to hope.
pilgrims Mar 24
Three cheers for broken things!
Those who god rapes
and what the cat brings
inside causing screams. The last laugh.
Reduced to a shocking object;
denied personal being, a personal hell,
alone, touched by shadows.
All shadows imply light.
Torture of existence transforms to bliss.
Taken request, now give it a kiss.
See and be seen.
Be vulnerable, be keen to love the ugly.
Cringing dancing singing -
Obscene wisdom, divine pain:
Dominion of fate.
Tainted blood yet the soul won't stain.
Syafie R Mar 14
I am the Pisces, suffocating beneath the weight of my own sorrow.
You watch as I fight against waves that crush the will from my bones,
A fish whose scales are heavy with despair,
Whose heart is a shattered thing, lost in the vast, unforgiving deep.
Each breath I take is a revolt against this abyss,
But each breath is a futile attempt to resist the inevitable.

You call my name, beg me to stay—
But the current is merciless, pulling me into the blackened void.
I swim in circles, drowning in a silence that devours,
As the water fills my lungs with its cold, endless ache.
The world above is a distant, forgotten dream,
One I can no longer reach, no longer want.

I am the Pisces, swallowed whole by my own darkness,
A soul unraveling beneath the surface.
Your hands cannot break the tide,
For I have already surrendered.
It is too late. The ocean has claimed me.
Syafie R Mar 14
The plate sits before me, brimming with light,
Yet I cannot partake in this feast of life.
The hunger is not born of flesh,
But a deep, gnawing void that swallows the soul.

It’s not that I lack—
But I recoil from the feast,
For each bite is a confrontation,
A war within my own skin,
An agonizing surrender to the unknown.

The world, a banquet of joy and color,
Serves me courses of hope and grace,
But I cannot consume what is offered.
Each morsel of love, each chance for joy,
I push away,
As if to touch it would fracture me further,
Unravel what little control I still feign to hold.

I starve not for food,
But for the courage to feast on life,
To swallow what is real,
Without fear that it will choke me,
Without fear that it will swallow me whole.

In the quiet spaces of my mind,
I am a ghost,
Floating above this world I once craved.
I am too numb to reach,
Too paralyzed to feel the warmth of the sun,
And so I exist—
Not living, not dying,
But simply suspended in this vast, unyielding void,
Where every dream is a phantom,
Every hope a cruel illusion,
And I am forever starving,
Yet unable to taste the life I’ve lost.
I have these complicated feelings
they unfurl in my chest
begging to be let out
I release them from the ribcage
with a pen and paper
my poems are their escape
it makes me feel lighter
like happiness can fill me
instead of the dark curling tendrils
of despair
The rays of the sun reflect on my eyes, from early this morning.
Thus I am still weary, Ye I shall scorn.
I try to chase the wind; my mind is too unique.
My heart filled with rage, O my why today.

2. Now it is noon, thus the scorching heat.
The boredom is depressing, for all I do is sit.
Perhaps I am contemptible, for my laziness.
My selfishness is outrageous; I am without context.

3. The sun is down, my energy is depleted, my willingness is diminished.
I am full of pain, relieve me of my misery.
Thou cannot save me, I am derisive.
Who will come to my aid, for I am dismissive.
A sable veil, a crepuscular drape,
Wherein the soul, a phantom, finds its shape.
A nocturne played on strings of frayed despair,
A hollow resonance, a vacant, frigid air.
The mind, a labyrinth of obsidian hue,
Where phantoms dance, and truths are skewed anew.
A pallid moon, a sickly, waning gleam,
Reflects the void, a fractured, broken dream.
The heart, a sepulchre of frozen tears,
Where joy lies buried, choked by shadowed fears.
A silent requiem, a mournful, solemn chime,
For life's bright tapestry, consumed by creeping time.
The body, vessel frail, a spectral frame,
Endures the tempest, whispers not a name.
A brittle echo, in a vacant, vast domain,
Where solace flees, and only shadows reign.
A somber canvas, painted dark and deep,
Where anguished secrets, silently they sleep.
A cryptic cipher, etched in mournful prose,
Depression's shadow, where the spirit goes.
Themes & Mood:
* Depression, Despair, Melancholy: These are the foundational emotions. The "frayed despair," "vacant, frigid air," and "frozen tears" directly depict these states.
* Existentialism & Nihilism: The "void," "vacant, vast domain," and "brittle echo" suggest a sense of meaninglessness and the absence of inherent value.
* Loss & Grief: The "sepulchre of frozen tears" and "silent requiem" point to a deep sense of loss, likely of joy, hope, or even a sense of self.
* Isolation & Loneliness: The "phantom" soul, "vacant, vast domain," and "solace flees" emphasize the feeling of being utterly alone.
* Darkness, Void, Shadows: These are recurring motifs, representing the overwhelming presence of negative emotions and the absence of light and hope.
* Mourning & Requiem: The "silent requiem" explicitly states a sense of mourning, a formal lament for something lost.
* Anguish & Sorrow: The "anguished secrets" and overall tone of sadness convey deep emotional pain.
Imagery & Style:
* Gothic & Dark Poetry: The language is rich with dark imagery, creating a gothic atmosphere. Words like "sepulchre," "phantom," "spectral," and "nocturne" evoke a sense of darkness and decay.
* Symbolism & Metaphor:
   * "Sable veil" and "crepuscular drape" symbolize the obscuring of light and joy.
   * "Labyrinth of obsidian hue" represents the confused and trapped state of the mind.
   * "Sepulchre of frozen tears" symbolizes the heart as a place of buried emotions.
   * "strings of frayed despair" shows the breaking point of the emotional state.
* Imagery: The poem is visually evocative, painting a picture of a dark, desolate landscape.
* Nocturne & Crepuscular: These terms emphasize the twilight and night, times associated with darkness, mystery, and introspection.
* Phantom & Spectral: These words suggest a sense of unreality, a feeling of being disconnected from life.
* Labyrinth: representing the complicated and confusing nature of the mind.
* Sepulchre: A tomb, representing the death of emotions.
Emotional Tone:
* Sadness, Hopelessness, Desolation: These emotions permeate the entire poem, creating a sense of overwhelming despair.
* Fear: The "shadowed fears" and the overall sense of darkness contribute to a feeling of anxiety and dread.
* Loneliness: The isolation of the "phantom" soul and the "vacant, vast domain" emphasize the feeling of being utterly alone.
In essence, the poem creates a powerful and immersive experience of deep melancholy and existential despair by using vivid imagery, symbolic language, and a consistent tone of sadness and hopelessness. It is a testament to the power of language to convey the darkest corners of the human experience.
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