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Raindrop Sep 2017
She really wants him to be her lover but the deity decided to set a game of love where two souls were born almost at the same time but in a different place. Thus, their love story remains unknown to the both of them.

She doesn’t really know what she looks for in a man but her heart aches for someone she doesn’t even know.

He reminds her of the cherry blossoms in spring when she started falling for him. He reminds her of the rain and how it falls down just like how her tears would. He reminds her of a sad love song just like their sad love story. It’s like he’s actually there but she’s unable to touch him.

She knows she can just find another man to begin her love story with; someone she knows, verily. But the feeling won’t be the same.

She can’t seem to fathom why she loves that particular feeling of loving someone unknown even though it pains her. Indeed, she’s trapped by the love she has, only she doesn't want to break free.

How astonishing it is that an unknown man is capable of making her feel that way ― that no man she knows had made her feel.

She wants to find him and end her longingness but she doesn’t know how.

Even if she walks his street, they’ll less likely meet. It doesn’t happen easily. They’re not in the movies. She doesn’t even know who is she looking for. All she knows is that he’s there when spring comes, when the rain falls and when a sad love song starts to play.

Still, she’s uncertain if she will ever meet that man but maybe... that’s how the deity wants their game of love to be ― to remain unknown.

But no, she won’t lose to the deity’s game. She will find him and she will end the game. Their love will bloom in a different season. And he will no longer remind her of the rain and the sad love songs. He will no longer be someone unknown and they can finally begin their love story.

That, she promised.
Maybe the deity wants to create a sad love story but she doesn’t.
Josiah Israel Aug 11
So, on the morning of his sixteenth birthday, Doby Greenhorn prepared to leave. He packed some provisions, a compass, a large box of matches, some rope, a leather bottle full of water, a little money, a sturdy walking stick and some other odds and ends his mother threw at him. And, as the poem goes…

“As I set out, in early morn, the whole world for to see,
These are the things my blessed mother, came and said to me.”

“Beware the fettered Giant, In the valley down below! Restrained by iron ringlets, near the well where lovers go…

Beware the flaxen Ferry, if you see him down the lane, he’ll offer you the world and more, but only bring you pain…

Be not dismayed by goblins if they’re out during the day, just teach them a new riddle and they’ll let you on your way.

A blackened cat upon the road will bring bad luck it’s said, unless you chase it down at once, and beat it till it’s dead!

But most important, is that song, which lures all men near… The sound like golden honey being spooned into your ear! A song which sparks that deepest longing, a sense of warmth and cheer!

The song of evil Sirens is the thing which most I fear…

So put thy hand across thy breast and make a solemn pledge, to never follow lilting tunes up to the waters edge!

And if you do, and see a maiden bathing in the sun, more beautiful then any queen that ever had been won! With eyes as green as sun bleached moss and face pleasant and fun, Who’s magic makes it quite impossible for you to run!

Then draw thy dagger from thy waist and place it to thy beating heart, and plunge that steel with all thy strength, to lay thy noble breast apart!

Far better be, to take thy life and keep thy soul embowered, then ever kiss those bitter lips and have thy flesh devoured!

For Sirens never eat the dead, and though thy blood runs ruby red, thy honor rests upon thy head, and follows thee to life after…”

”I made the pledge, and kissed her face, and off I went my path to chase! With dagger hanging from my waist… That dagger dangling at my waist… “
This is a small piece of a story I wrote, about a very unlucky boy named Doby Greenhorn.
Heather Ann Oct 2018
where do i end and you begin?
in the grasp, you hold me in,
when i am merely a summer breeze
or a kiss of death.
what am i to you,
if nothing more than
crashing symphonies
playing tone-deaf melodies?
i am entirely unto you,
bound to your grace
where i am held, hostage;
in the belief that if you kiss my poisonous lips
and seek refuge
where i do not deserve
such a happily ever after
but a gravestone next to yours.
AIA May 2018
Mass is not proportional to volume

A girl as small as a violet
A girl who moves like a flower’s petal
She attracts me with a force greater than her mass
Now, I
am like Newton’s apple
Rolled and fell toward her unstoppably
With a thump, a thump

My heart
Keeps bouncing between the sky and the ground
It was my first love.
Ps. This is written by a Korean Poet named Kim In-yook. I knew the poem because of the Korean Drama titled "Goblin" or "The Goblin's Bride" it was a hit Drama in Asia. So if you are curious of what the drama is, just watch it. Thank you.
PPS. I just posted this here to share it to you. and Again, Kamsahamnida! :) ♥
aphotic blue Dec 2017
a mortal, unfortunate, unwelcome to earth
for he holds the sword, and never rebirth
in this first life of his, still on agony
waiting for his bride and prayed for the deity
to remove the sword that was pierced on his chest
just to stop breathing and be on a rest
yet so unlucky, because of this futile punishment
alive yet experiencing the sensation of torment
only his bride can change the prophecy
moments had passed, but it was a catastrophe
his bride can’t remove the sword
so the goblin insisted that his bride is absurd
the deity appeared and spill out the honesty
only true love can change the present reality
the wife fell inlove truly with the goblin
yet, death is following her within
they fought death and the power of the gods
hope were the only miracle behind those odds
but the unexpected has brought something strange
the girl died so the future will never be change
the goblin waits hundreds of years for her wife to come back
until now, he waits and waits for her wife to come back..
the story was taken on the kdrama called "goblin" yet i changed the ending. full copyright for the story.
Isabelle Jan 2017
For 939 years he is living
To live such a long long long life
I do not know if it is a curse or a blessing

Centuries swiftly passes somehow
Past to present, present to future
He was there before, he is here until now

Every death of friend or foe
He witnesses and will never forget
Left alone, soul is full of woe

The Goblin’s immortality
Was said to be a punishment
And never an eternal tranquility

The sword stuck in his heart
Is the key to death he longed for
Then only his life and misery will depart

It is only the Goblin’s bride
Can pull out the sword in his chest
So for centuries he searched for a wife

Until fate finally reveals itself
One look, ahh, a lovely bride he met
Sad love he utters to himself

This love will cause him death
But after a long time, it made him feel alive
Now he don’t want to lose his breath

But his choice will only bring demise
And his newly found happiness
Will only last until his bride dies

Pull out the sword, the Goblin will turn into ashes
Let him live and his bride will die
What a tragic story, love until one perishes

“I have to disappear to make you smile
This is the decision I have to make,
I have to end my life”

It was long ago planned by a diety
Immortality not a reward but a punishment
A sad love, it was their destiny
Note: I somehow altered the ending.

Inspired by Goblin, a korean drama which I finished watching last night. It was sad yet beautiful drama. So beautiful that I can't get over with the story.
Athina Mitchell Jan 2016
“O’re the valley deep and low!
Past the shrouds of long stem rose!
To the princess in her throng!
               A beastly creature by her side!
               A once fare maiden locked inside!
               The soulless chasm: princess’s eyes!”

Sang giddy Goblin down rotted road.
To his house and stolen gold.
With mischief-mayhem in his mind.
He’ll take princess, his wedded bride.
Till kingdom falls and he is king.
Laud-hail the giddy Goblin sing!
“Hark! Fare maiden! Sir Phillip here!
With quiver, sword, and stamping steer.”

Called charming prince in shining mail.
To fair maiden in window, frail.

               “I’ve come aloft, for your hand!
With gifts and treasures from my land!”

“Sir  Phillip  dear!”
Sighed princess leaning at her sill.
               “What’s  made  you  wander  here?”

               “Your hand my lady.
If I may,
I’d tell you of my love all day!”

And on—and on their prattle wagged,
Till sun was set and moon was had.

Upon the Goblin’s knackered table
There lay a thistle from maiden’s stable.
Touched with purple ‘or blind pleasure
And twisted thorns with witch’s feather.
Makes a tea, brewed just right,
For maiden and Phillip’s wedding night.

“Come one come all—into the hall!
               That silly jester’s wailing.
Witness the union of great love!
               What simple-minded hailing.
               After her draught, he’ll be for naught;
               And their faces I’ll keep unveiling.”
          ­     The tea was jarred
                         And dressed with wrapping—

Prince Phillip went looking
For something quite strapping.
               The night with his maiden
                         Remained ever looming.
                         He picked up the jar,
                         Never assuming.

Giddy Goblin, dressed as a man,
Slinked to the counter to enact his plan:

“You have a good eye! This tea is divine!
Maketh and eve’ with your lady sublime!”

Prince Phillip grinned—he couldn’t resist.
Nights with his maiden be only bliss.

Into her room the couple there went,
Princess was drowsy—feeling quite spent.

Prince Phillip was certain, he could not despair,
For there was tea he need only prepare.

“Here my lady, do not demise.
I’ve brought you a gift—a little surprise.”

Princess’s affections e’er did grow,
Drinking it down—her cheeks aglow.

“Now thirst has slaked, I feel sleep all the more.
Have I not told you—no means no, before?”

Phillip’s passions, extinguished and placid
No longer cared—his ***** was flaccid.
“Princess indeed! No maiden of mine,
Would hither come and speak her mind.

My kingdom is good; it does not wrong.
Don’t dare speak of my father’s throng!”

“Now, Prince Philip dear, please hear me do,
For if you don’t I say we’re through.

My kin have heard whispers on the streets
O king’s pact with witches of Eeps.”

“You slanderous cow! No! Keep the dow’!
I wash my hands of you right now.”

And thus the prince, in anger, did leave
In flight upon his noble stead.

“O Goblin king of winter and green!
We laud your keep of summer and sleep!”

Sings tree with wind and water with soil.
               As our kitchen pots begin to boil.
For goblins tread between the beds
               Of flowers grown beyond the hedge
And keeps the balance of nature spread
               So greedy babies can eat their bread.

A goblin’s life is not of glory
Humble vessels they move the story.
With one last spell he will bewail
The Great King of maiden: once frail.
Then stones will fall from the walls
And meet the earth’s and soil’s call.
Enchanted as the kingdom was
They welcomed in the Goblin, Kguzz.

“Tidings, king Kguzz,
From lands afar.
Enter the hall.
Stay near the lar.”

Clipped the knight standing guard
Eyes fixed on the courtyard.

“Jesters shall come
To entertain.
Wait while our King
Prepares his mane.”

Thereupon the Great King decreed
His daughter’s marriage—without heed.

Prince Phillip kneels at the feet
Of his father’s lavished seat.

“Troubled news, from the hill: Tara.
The maiden there is no flower.”

“Oh my silly child, keep calm your heart.
It’s not our nature to beg a bart’.

A strong hand is what we need!
Show them that we will now lead.”

Here begins their brooding council
With crows gathering at the crown’s sill.
Pounding feet—there begins a beat:
The footmen aligning in their fleet.
Clashing and gnashing,
With steel against shield,
The Great King road onto the field.
Philip had a blade for slashing.

“The bond has been broke.
My property spoke!
Smash and crash! I’ll have what I’m owed!”
Cried raging prince with army bold.

Came now the Great King
With his horse careened.
“Your pact is marred—treasonous too!
I will be glad, once rid of you!”

Their battle went on for three days and nights.
The crows circled blotting out what was bright.
The field was covered with us and with them.
A red and orange sun came over the brim.
The Great King had fallen guarding his kin.
Prince Philip sailed to his kingdom in Fin.

To his father, the prince there went
To tell of how the battle was spent
When low, he beheld the witches: three
With his father bowed upon his knees.

“No father! No! Please say it’s not true!
I slaughtered the Great King
                         And many men for you!”

“Oh don’t be a child,
                         G-g-great wisdom they have
They know many things:
                         How to use the land!”

Then the prince left—beginning his run,
His father cried out, “Phillip, my son!”
Till the end of days the prince did sit
Darkness and sadness—his heart a pit.
Reap what we sow, and sow what we reap
Choices to make with penalties steep
“Melted away! Your costume’s no good!
You’re more like a doll made out of wood!”

Laughed Kguzz sitting at Tara’s table—
Turning Phillip into a fable.

“I am to tend to the land and the sea
What are your quibbles to goblins like me?”*

“To war I say! For I’ve lost my father!
Wrath of my kingdom, Burn ever hotter!

The longer we travel to the land of Fin
Where I will complete Sir Phillip’s sin.”

Rose up the new Queen with her Goblin mate,
Forging her oath in a union of hate.

Now the Great Queen took up her quill
Writing a draft for men to fill.

               “Wos bad a ‘nuff our King was slain
               Wot’s the point of battle again?”

               Distraught and despondent the peasantry dallied
When noblemen came to keep up their tallies.
The prices of war are no laughing matter
For during these times all bellies are flatter.
Nevertheless the Queen followed through.
               A march to their end—that much they knew.

Above in the tower, croaking was heard:
Giddy Goblin flying off with a bird.
Wreckage was strewn this way and that:
Kingdoms battled, a three year spat.
An eye for an eye—piteous saying—
Led to mass death and frivolous praying.
All that was left is black and rotting,
But now the soil is ripe for potting.

“O Goblin king of winter and green!
We laud your keep of summer and sleep!”

Sings tree with wind and water with soil.
               The sun is free to keep up a broil!
For goblins tread between the beds
               Of flowers strewn without the hedge
And keeps the balance of nature spread
               So green will be forever fed
By bodies that once consumed its bread.
I started writing this a few years ago. I want to make it a book, but it is still a work in progress. I've cleaned it up a bit and would like to share it.
Jordan Fischer May 2015
All I see when i look at me is a goblin
A monster, an insatiable beast
A zombie with the urge to feast
I try to repress the hunger with gin
Or any other type of sin
But that only adds to the madness
Like Edgar i live in total darkness
My sanity is slowly slipping away
I've been like this forever and a day
I drift through day's in a heavy haze
I wish to be caught up in the happiness craze.
positrxnicbrain Nov 2014
Every time I look into the mirror,
I see it in my face
I'm possessed by the goblin child
Who'll destroy the human race, though,
I haven't forgotten hope
I know the ancient lore,
God will strike me down
To Hell, forevermore
Kissy Marie Oct 2014
I want to be where the night hags scream
As they feed off the fears of man
I want to live where the nightmares are dreamed
And survey the scorched desert lands

I want to hide in the goblin's lair
Slipping out for a taste from the ***
Where he cooks the men who journey there
And feasts on them while they're hot

I want to fly through the midnight sky
With the vampires who feed
On unknowing victims from throats and thighs
I want to see them bleed

I want to live like it's All Hallow's Eve
Titillated all year by every scare
But since I can not I do things unseen
So, my dear friends, BEWARE
Just a fun, dark, and twisty poem. Happy Halloween!
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