Tashes 1d
You’re like fire spreading wildly in my veins

Burning me to ashes

But oh darling

Don’t you know,

Phoenix rose from ashes
A capsule sized tale about how something beautiful arises when your knees touch the ground
MOTH 4d
Oh Summer Tree, oh Summer Tree
So many things you get to see
Oh Summer Tree, how big are thee
I wonder what you can tell me...








"thєrє íѕ ѕσmєthíng thαt í mαч hαvє

α ѕtσrч ѕєttlєd ín mч crσwn

  mαч thч ѕσul вє quєnchєd wíth thíѕ tαlє

ít'ѕ quítє thє ѕtσrч ѕσ prσfσund"
:












There used to be a boy quite sharp
He lived inside a place like hell
However, he'd not fall apart
That's something everyone could tell

Another boy afar away
Who lived inside a darkened land
He almost gave his life away
But light from kin had used their hand

The boy of hell was well quite known
A pretty one of rumors told
No one knew what he was in for
You would think someone's soul was sold

The darkened boy with eggshell skin
He lost all but his saddened mom
She melancholy from her grief
He was the one who reached the calm

The boy of hell had hellish kin
One from drug kings, one from fight queens
He saw it all when mother worked
Under the ground in bloody scenes

The mom of dark hated her son
The one who got to live a life
She left him for the streets and drugs
Still there, yet somehow out of sight

Hell boy did hate his upbringing
He did not want to be like them
For school was his way to winning
No way he could live in that realm

This is where dark boy had lost it
And this is when he tried to fade
Light’s hand gave him a wake-up call
Granny, from the states hell boy stays

Hell boy conquered a tough challenge
Till one of fire ignited
His mom and he was asked to leave
Dad’s greed came from what he sighted

...










"lєt mє tєll чσu thíѕ hєrє ríght nσw

чσu knσw thє ѕtσrч єndѕ nσt hєrє

thє tαlєѕ tσσ lσng, wє muѕt dívídє

wє ѕhσuld ѕkíp tσ nєw pαrtѕ tσ tєll"
...










Oh Summer Tree, oh Summer Tree,
Can you go on, please keep telling,
I want more, yes, your stories sear,
I wonder how did they get here,
We will move on, not here but there,
Part 1 will come when coasts are clear.
I wouldn't see the point in continuing this story if no one likes it. We'll see, but it's up to if anyone even sees this.
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2
In most cases, some problems
can be solved by talking.
...Nuff said...
Tashes Aug 1
She is a whirlwind of emotions

Impulsive as a category five

Leaving devastation as she passes by

When you’ll meet her

It’ll dawn on you

Why hurricanes are named after people
A horror movie scene as the heroine escapes.
Everything is still besides her convalescing breaths and the distant, chasing wind.
Not a noise is heard, except the fall leave's rattle and the birch wood's moaning bark in the moonlight.
Her body slouches into the protection of a shed and shrouds itself in the aroma of cut grass.
A tense brow relieves and tired eyes close, able to accept the momentary peace, and a place to call refuge.  

A possible misstep turns into crunched leaves outside, wild eyes scramble towards their opaque barricade.
Sly pieces of garden equipment leash her weathered jacket in place as she attempts to stand.
A cackle is heard, a shriek undone.
To spite the brittle wood, that formulaic jump-scare-skeleton-hand bursts through the shed's solicitous walls, set to declare the last of a weary soul as his own.
The wind catches up and spearheads all holes it can find.
It begins whistling around the dim room like a tornado elated to havoc behind a castle's walls.
The tree bark howls, the leaves, now delight.
We learn there is no reprieve for a begging champion.
The camera backs out of the splintered hole and pans over a sated forest to face the waning moon.
The hero succumbs with muted screams to a gore far below and out of frame.
The only closure, a black screen, with bright white letters, slowly scrolling up.


The end.
Just something I had fun writing, figured not posting it would be a waste despite it not being "poetry", just an experiment I guess. I feel like it would be good, in like, a high-school, short story competition. lmfao.
Viseract Jul 16
If you could take a walk in my shoes, you'd be weak at the knees
The weight that I've been pulling, I make it seem so free
There is nothing easy about what it seems to be
Deception is invisible in the wake that I leave

I could walk across the ocean and have you thinking I'm Jesus
But I'm just moving past the obstacles, I'm no defeatist
I have tried to heal the hurt but I can't cure the cancer
The one that follows the questions that I'm leaving unanswered

I'm not a saviour to some, I'm the hand on the gun
A threat to contest with just because I'm not dumb
I'm a hero to few, they see what I've done
And know that I'm not the type to just, hit up and run

I didn't need a teacher in my ear, to have me learning that life
Is like a vegetable on chopping boards, facing the knife
I could stand here, and tell you that my wife
Is the girl in my arms who I'll be texting tonight

But you don't wanna see the  happiness, it's not entertainment
You would rather crave the drama coz it speaks in your language
This generation generates the rope tied, and left hanging
With the tweets of aggression filling the broken, with anguish

Peace is just another word, a part of an old puzzle
The dictionary of today only knows trouble
We wield the words as weapons like its just the common puddle
We hate what it reflects so we project it, really not subtle

I would hate to see the fall end, with a set of broken legs
I prefer the cheering, not the fights after kegs
When we used to get along, make difference our friend
And laugh about the good times, the bad we protect

Each and every encounter is a lesson to take
Knowing that our ignorance is a choice, not fate
Learn to live, to love each other, see past the build
Its only personality to which we should fill

Experience the wonders, don't forget the close calls
Memorise all the times spent in free fall
Lay the net down before you make the leap
And keep in mind that tomorrow is just hide-and-go-seek


Find a future in a bottle full of broken dreams
Find peace in a religion that you choose to believe
Stitch the folds of fabric and follow the seams
And open up the path to the purity that keeps you clean
Emma Jul 10
whispers chasing you as you run down the hall
don't look back at them, you may trip and fall.

Girls share secrets at lunch in the bathroom,
you hear your name, you leave the room.

running from the whispers cant stop them from starting
harsh words, behind your back they are darting.

don't run from your problems, they'll only get worse,
and then they'll take your soul away in a hearse.

so keep your mouth shut, don't make a sound,
don't let those pesky rumors, come around.

stand up and fight, for what you believe in,
if you do not, you will let the gossip win.
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