astiani 1d
the ignorance of his soul boiled inside those skeletons,
radiate the gleam through his eyes,
for him it's just a meaningless phrase,
for the rest it's a displeasure frame.
he didn't realize until then;
that it is his own self that light up the fire,
and burned everything up; for him to stand alone above his cluelessness.
“I hope she’ll be a fool- that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.”
F Scott Fitzgerald makes Daisy in The Great Gatsby speak wisely, speak truth.
Alexis 1d
Despair it is to lose all hope,
Yet to still believe,
That your heart and mind can cope,
That freedom you shall receive.

The broken image in the mirror will become anew,
With no cracks to feel,
Darkness withdrew,
Leaving only what’s real.

Shadows cast upon your heart,
Will be a sweet memory,
Such a work of art,
That little tender thing will be.

Your skin, innocent and soft,
Shall be your favorite shield,
Your soul going aloft,
To a sacred field.

Feel that blood,
Rushing through your veins,
It makes a flood,
Amongst those beautiful remains.

A broken dream this has always been,
For human life is cruel,
This false hope has become a sin,
Indeed, I must be a fool.
A Fools' Wake
at which nobody laughs,
poignantly reminded
of their own follies.
A life condensed
into an evening of sorrow,
to pass off historically
as a non event
that few remember,
and most try to forget.

For a life of wonder,
adventure and mystery,
serves to irritate
their own inadequacies,
but polite respect
induces them to attend,
witnessing chapters filed,
to salute the end,
the closing of the book
on a life they would rather forget.

A Fools' Wake,
sombre, sober and dark.
As fools wake,
to discover a wasted life.

© Pagan Paul (15/08/18)
Thomas EG Aug 12
I always feel two steps behind
No matter what the topic at hand
Even things I'm sure that I'm sure of
You can break down that certainty
Within seconds

Make me doubt the person
That I know myself to be
I dare you
Convince me that I am someone else
Because I'm stubborn until I'm afraid

Afraid to be laughed at
Afraid to be judged
Afraid to be made into a fool

So I take the initiative and laugh it off
Because declaring "I'm just an idiot",
"I don't know anything about anything"
Or simply keeping my mouth shut
Is far easier than hearing it elsewhere
Self-deprecating as fuck but truee
Liyah Bella Aug 9
it's crazy to think that we are so foolish to believe people were made for each other.
only fools fall in love
only fools stay through the worst
only fools believe in fate
but maybe they are right
after all I am the biggest fool of the all
Krys Aug 9
Luck. Luck treads the line between disaster and survival.
A ball loses momentum on a spinning wheel.
It falls into a pocket.
With one sweep, you’re merely a fool.

Surely, the glory can be regained?
Borrow from those you know. Make a new bet.
Borrow from strangers. Make a new bet.
Make deals with the predators.
Point of no return. You thought they wouldn’t hunt you down?
With one sweep, you’re merely a fool.

We’re all fools here.
This is our lesson of repentance.
We romanced misfortune and she loved us enough to grant us omens of disaster.
With no meaning left in our lives, we are shadows. Shadows that want to survive.

Take the gun.  Raise the barrel to the side of your head.
Maybe fortune will pity you.

They say the greatest luck is dying at the right time.
Is this the right hour? Minute? Second?
A ball loses momentum on a spinning wheel.
It falls into a pocket.

Pull the trigger, fool.
jerrey Aug 6
What is peace?

What is its face
that hides behind its name?
What is its face
that brings it greed to fame?

What is its mercy
that lures the hearts of men?
What is its mercy
that lures them to their death?

that lets us bleed
and tells us we're alive.
that we say we need
even as we die.

that has been betrayed
more than it's own sin.
that makes us stay afraid,
with more than war to win.

Why do you run
when men claw at you
with grimy fingernails?
Why do you run,
scared men will find the truth:
you are not what they hail?

What is this peace
that leaves men rotting?
With their last breath,
they whisper your name.
What is this peace
of which wars are talking
to drown the sound of death;
wars you cannot tame?

Where is peace?

Are you found in
the dawn's wake
or the still, restful night?
Or will we find
that you are fake,
but real battles we fight?

Are you found in
danger’s rich path
when it is crumbling?
Or will we find
the peace for which we ask
is drunk and stumbling?

Are you found in
a single thought
within our own souls?
Or will we find
that you are not—
you are fools gold.
I don’t have all the answers. Sometimes I can only just ask the questions.
Kellin Aug 4
I was a fool
to give
my heart
to someone
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