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Elicia Hurst Apr 2018
Part I

Out of death,
My shallow grave,
I rise.

My eyes
With godlike vision,
They can see through

The dark
The gloom
And the mind.

Lonely is the road,
tread by wheels,
Watching them go.

Spectrum of colors,
Halo's gold,
All fading into oblivion.

Vacant houses,
keeping - lost words
- in

Lines that cross faces,
so familiar,
Don't write their names.

No recollection
of the light
in their eyes.

Captain of the Titanic,
Sail on.
My skin is cold.

Stale blood running
in veins,
I can't help but to overhear.

Roses on a wooden box.
The world is dying,
I remain.

Part II

Of eternal life
and punishment,
I confess:

The sin
of Nostalgia
in my static heart-

For longing
to burn
down the world,

Not for creation
of new
in the ashes,

but for destruction,
that will
end all destruction,

for one last collision
of life and death
joined into one.
Jan 2014
They deposed of laughter in the rain
listened on this terrain
in their awful pegs retentive clamour
while dark gruesome hours descended
as them that didn't willingly tie for their enamor
while flatulence then finally was hardily retorted in debate
yet their nostalgia doom relived this planet in this luxury then so they'd flatten this inn divide
while in lies that pack frozen in their teeth
Mia Lee Aug 2017
You know that feeling of mild annoyance
when your friend forces you into
watching a video you didn't want to watch
and then an ad plays before it
so you have to watch that too?
That's how I feel about being alive.

Like I don't want to **** myself or anything
I'm just a little annoyed by being here
and having to sit through dumb **** all the time
A burnt out bulb,
just hanging there.
No more light to share,
or shadows to shear.
No phoenix moment,
Totally spent.

— The End —