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I sing to the shadows in my room
And play the piano to comfort my gloom
I hum in the hope that something will bloom
And write as I await my own doom
❝ a man curses his self-created hell;
   a trap he weaved for himself
   that later on evolved
   into a labyrinth of intricate design

   his choices,
   the basis of his sorrow
   a product of ignorance
   that drowns him
   in the ocean of confusion

   he becomes lost
   in the prison of darkness
   floating in the sea
   of perpetual gloom

   searching for the light
   with eyes open
   but senses shut
   stumbling about for eons
   and eons

   blaming fate,
   God,
   circumstances,
   but never himself ❞
Olivia Sep 30
come back,
that's all i request

why'd you
have to go


i hate being in love
with someone i
can't have
Dangling in a thread between darkness and light...

(The heart watches over it's fading memories... )

Drifting clouds play hide and seek in the garden of the crimson sky...

And the shadows wear garments to dance to the melody of the night...

(My mind still juggles the questions to answers and answers to questions it once could not fathom...)

Blackbirds circle the air promising to come back the other day...

The crickets prepare for night gala and the fireflies blow their torches to make less some darkness...

(The spirit inside of me bores over boulevard of the past and future that are a hue of ***** grey)

The setting sun begs me to stop itself from moving away...

And yet...

(My silent unsettling soul ends up settling itself to the impositions of twilight!)
I find something unusual about the twilight hours... Even though the atmosphere is one of beauty... But still it brings me back old memories, deep thoughts, and gloomy feelings...!
Thank you everyone for reading this! :) ❣
PATROCLUS Sep 2
One ******* stands in the corner of the room.
Whilst the moonlight beams through the French windows,
He is motionless as he waits to endure more pain.
Without suffering and a thumping Pulse,
Can he live?
Although he continuously prays for change,
He thrives and thrives and grows...
Ces Sep 1
I force a smile to
Regain a sense of normality
Curled lips that
Mask the rawness
Of this aching
Emptiness.

No longer am I enamored
With lovely, naive fantasies:
This blank stare into the abyss
Born out of revolt
Against the lie
That happiness is everyone's
Lot in life.

Fortune is a whimsical god
And living is an unpredictable
Farce between birth and death
Such randomness,  brutality
Victimizes those born
Of sound body
But with a fragile mind
And a crumbling sanity.

Reflections of gloom
Are all that keeps me company
This unbearable pessimism
In this tiny room
Yet I cannot stop my inquiries:
My explorations of truth
No matter how wretched it might be
At its very root.
reyftamayo Aug 16
Pabulusok na ang ginintuang hari
sa dulong kanluran.
rumuronda na ang mga paniki,
nakadapo na ang mga ibon.
tumitili ang mga kuliglig
kasabay ng walang patid na
sagutan ng mga palaka.
ang mga butiki naman ay
humahalik na sa lupa.
malamig na hangin
ang madaramang sumisipol sa pandinig
at pumupukol ng mumunting alikabok
upang ipaalam
ang malambing nitong dampi.
maya-maya lang ay sisibol na
ang nagkikintabang kurap
ng mga mumunting kulisap
sa kalangitan
upang ito'y ilawan hanggang umaga.
Maguna Aug 6
even to hold a piece of a cigarette, people be staring at you like you're a rascal.
even to buy a piece of cigarette, people be staring at you like you're depressed.
even to smoke a piece of cigarette, people be staring at you like you're nothing but an innominate kid.

aside from being given the badge of being privileged well-being, and fulfilled the standard of life, neither smoking could be the best druthers.

therefore, she went undercover, caught a paper, and rolled it into a form of cigarette. the undemanding shape.

she imagined,
she felt,
she wondered,

the great feeling that emerged when one blow smoke escaped out of the stick, thought up all the life's crises gone in a blow.

just a blow.
w/n: this is my very first writing to be poured in here, I had no idea but made some notions and words collided into a piece of writing like that. I'll be so much appreciated if anyone who sees this writing wants to give a tiny response at least. xoxo.
Dear you,
You know, the night isn't that dark tonight
Or maybe my thoughts are darker than every night,
Could also be that my room is pitch black-
Still seems better than the abandoned seashore shack.
Did you see it's star-less outside?
No moon either, in which I can confide.
So I lay, cigarette dangling between my fingers,
Watching the cold breeze mix with the smoke that lingers.
The murk seeps inside my skin
Yet I feel a hollowness herein.
My heart is stuck in the same gloomy plight,
Alas, the night isn't that dark tonight.
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