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Angelo Oct 2017
Ana
You were a mystery at first,
With your pale face, sunken cheekbones, and short hair.
Your sweater too big,
And it made you adorably small.
Your laugh?
It releases my tension,
makes me feel warm.
I don't wish to think it,
But I won't mean to anything?
You won't like as I do.
I'm a goof ball,
A third wheeler.
Why would some one like you care?
It feels evil.
You are a demon disguised as that mystery angel I adore.
The gentle
creature was
lost in her
thoughts,
like clouds
on a starry
night, where
all the galaxies
shined for her,
the special
one who’s
light was
the brightest,
when she
cried, the
songs of
angels
healed her,
whenever
she felt
so alone,
their white
wings dress
her short
hair in
flowers of
carnations
and roses,
even though,
her beauty
was created
to be greater
than those
petals, for
they came
from her,
unaware
of how
radiant
she was,
In tears
she stayed,
until one
day, a bird
came by her
windowsill,
and sang
to her,
“you, the
fairest and
most delicate
one, came
to world
with your
wings of
white,
with the
purest
symphony
wrapped
safely in
the locket
of your
heart,
with time,
the darkness
of man haunted
your existence,
fear not, your
song will live
on forever
and more,
healing the
ones who
seek refuge
in love,
I shall fly
above,
though I
will never
be far, for
you are with
me everywhere
I soar, you are
the waves
of deeper
rising clouds,
where your
song returns
to your
embrace”,
she asks
the bird,
“will the song
heal their
suffering?”
the bird
replies,
“they shall
hear you
once they
awaken,
when the
time will
come,
when your
radiance
will be
revealed,
the flower
of you
will bloom
gardens
in their
chests”,
she then
replies
to the bird,
“as love
would
do”, the
room
fell in
silence
as the
trees,
in gentle
music, had
danced
with the
night wind,
the bird
then took
flight,
and she
heard these
words being
sung “you
have spoken
the truth, and
wisdom
shall light
your path
wherever
you may
sojourn,
my flower,
rise, and
guide the
dreamers!
Sarabeth Nov 2019
Worry about the unknown,
  I do, I do.
Sick with thought,
  I am, I am.

My heart races and I can't escape.
My worried thoughts have taken hold.
My heart is squeezed, suffocated.

A gentle hand
  touches my mind.
My heart unravels,
  until next time.
Q Nov 2019
writing on the backs of hands,
strolling along meadows and dancing in the rain,
running through fields of wild flowers,
lacing fingers and pushing swings,
laying beneath glowing ***** of light,
our feet pressing against this unshaken earth;
we tie the hands of time together,
whenever our paths entwine,
gentle acts of love and joy,
preserved in the timeless pockets of our minds.
39/100
WildLander Nov 2019
My final hour lay me down,
Pitch wings come gather round.
Stars defaced they shed no light
Whether by choice or lack of might.
The hands of Father Time stand still.
Upon my skin, a creeping chill.
Mother Nature takes up the knife,
She saws the fragile string of life.
She doesn't clip through and get it done,
She drags it out, she's having fun.
It's getting dark, I cannot see.
I don't know who is here with me.
Whether there is someone,
Or no one at all
It doesn't matter my life is done.
I've taken and tried, through it I've crawled
I've stumbled, got up, tried to run, once again to fall.
The soft black feathers, tender are they.
Cradled in wings of darkness I lay.
One last movement, the life line snaps.
And everything around goes black.
This poem was written with the intentions of trying to capture the final moments before a peaceful death.
james Nov 2019
you have known a world
in which the world is nonexistent
and so you value every bug
and every bird
and comes across your windowsill
you hold them all close
and sing them to sleep

and yet, i continue to observe
that to have lived in death for so long
makes one so hungry for life,
so that even after a hundred lifetimes
of living-
you will maul and **** and tear apart
a thousand butterflies
and a million men
to run from the silence of the void

the warmth in your eyes explodes into fire
no, you refuse to die
Tori Schall Oct 2019
There is nothing better
than the gentle caress
Of two hearts
beating in unison
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