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Safana Sep 2020
Very evening
In the west
Up to sky, I
can see a
flying birds
dancing for
the song they
sing together

Peee *** ***
*** hwuit hweet
Peeeeee hwuitt
Chwuee weeee

Are flying birds
uniformly, wearing
multi-hued feather
gown, dancing on
the sky floor
Oh! It's wedding,
a wedding party
of princess
white dove
in the sky palace
of Avesdom
Ashley Kaye Jul 2020
if morning thoughts be dust of dreams,
i amble about until
Evening,
with its spinster gown,
lays waste to all the hope of day.
I enjoyed writing this.
lunademiere Apr 2019
I’m looking up to see the star,
a silver sky in sunless time,
the silver thought, in silver gown,
the star is shy, my lips are dry,
I’m looking up to see my gown,
a shyness storm in sunless time,
wait no more swallowed in delight,
dark, purple leaves, a kiss so bright.
Poem from my book 'The Allure Of Time' now available on amazon.
Go and order your copy.
Andre Vrdoljak Oct 2017
They'll tear you apart
And still you won't care.
You'll do as you're told
In that thing you wear.

You won't ever see
Them when they do.
It's too much to look
And know that it's you.

So just close your eyes
This won't hurt a bit.
Before you count ten
They'll be through with it.
Rebel Heart Sep 2017
She stitches on
Her collection of plastic smiles
To contrast her sad old soul

For her beauty radiates
Youth and love
While her eyes betray
The demons put on hold

She wears the world's sorrows
As a dazzling gown
With her own monsters
Clasping her feet

Reminding her of the
Skeletons she carries
With every step to the beat

Her eyes swim with horrors
Of the nagging ghosts of the past
But tonight she dances gracefully
Across the floor of glass

And she'll save some words of conversation
For every suitor coming her way

Though all the while she's planning out
How to spill her own red
On her own wonderful gown of grey
To mark Rebel Heart's 100th official poem in this amazing poetry community here's something special: An excerpt of the poetry collection by RH called "The Mysterious Gown of Grey"... it tells a beautifully captivating tale I can't help but imagine being set during the Victorian era in London. This excerpt was part of the first poem of the collection titled 'The First Masked Ball" and follows the story of Victoria, my favorite 'character' in the whole collection...I hope she plans to publish the full poem in the future for it'd be a shame to keep the wonderful words and epic story locked in a word document forever. Until then happy writing ~BM
NURUL AMALIA Aug 2017
not a beautiful gown
not high hills
I just wear my daily clothes
with my old shoes
I even can't apply make up on my face well

this head is still remember it
that million eyes weren't look at me
it wasn't like they did to another
who has elegant costume
well no problem, my heart said inside my ribs

that was my dream
I answered so many questions
I had a courage and a will
but
I thought that wasn't enough
I need a luck
my mom said that
my crown is not the real crown
because kindness will be your crown
Abdullah Ayyash Apr 2017
I'm gonna take a wild guess
I'm gonna play you a blind chess
I'm gonna tell you how to deem
I'm gonna build you in my dream
You're an angel in a white gown
You're the diamond in my crown
You're the light glowing wide
You're the prayer I always hide
Now I'm awake and cannot see
Now I'm crying inside your sea
Now I'm handing you my last plea
Now I'm giving you all of me
© Copyright
Abdullah Ayyash
April 20th, 2017
Renée Brookes Feb 2017
Your shadow has fallen over this place
like the plague.
The chandeliers cower at your advent,
collapsing atop this innocent crowd;
yet the violins still play.

Your presence ensues consternation.
Who's next?
Who's time is it?

It is I from which your invitation has been sent.
I am elated you could make it.

My mask is you,
with rose patterns aligned,
a gown to match,
with a bone breaking corset.
From my painted lips,

Will you save me this dance?

Face to face, chest to chest,
force each breath from my lungs.
Twirling now to my sounds,
I follow your lead.
Dip me back into your arms, my sweet,
finally reaping me with a kiss.

*You are my only love.
This is an alt. to my letter "Dear Reaper," . I wanted to write in two perspectives. In both, there is a want to die, but the first focused on the environmental aspect of death. This one, on the Reaper himself.
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