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Pages hanging on
By a breadth of
A mere molecule
Paper hearts
And discarded minds
Holding on to life
By a brief tether
By auspicious grim.
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Totti Night Apr 21
The moist air and bright green grass joined the stone and mold and tears to make the saddest smell of time.

No bird was singing, no insect buzzing, all silent, stood still as Sky wore the darkest clouds, beautiful and compassionate.

The gloomy dome reached the earth to kiss her cheeks. The cold breeze tenderly brushed her hair, in this garden of stone flowers.
Death its gardener.

And as the mother kneeled before a rose, the most painful of them all, a cry tore the silence and cracked the ground.
So heavy the burden of love.
My first attempt
Yaser Apr 19
Summer's eves do wax and wane
Some moons turn skies as bright as day
So to watch the night children dance and play
In their gardens of sheer delight

Fallen tree trunks dot these lands
Felled by long forgotten hands
Not even the children know of their plans
And it fills their hearts with fright

And as you gently rest your head -
upon your frivolous, softened bed -
so still as your dreams turn quick to red
Oh what a wretched sight

listen intent to their whimsy songs
for their words to you belong
oh how they grow louder as they throng
their allure you cannot fight

Do you hear the children and their songs?
Listen as they speak your wrongs
And as they take your name
they shan't be long
As your heart falls slow to blight

Once they grasp you by your toes
Where they take you
one can not know
As they jitter to-and-fro
With their faces so ghastly white

Their empty faces so ghastly white
aennij Apr 15
your eyes had always guided me.
unconsciously, I follow that beady sight.
they allow me to see,
the purest of the night.

your lips had always guide my moves.
unknowingly, I obey your delicate brim.
they allow me to prove
that this world is not so grim.

thus, I shall always seek
that face of yours so I'll be guided.
without you, I surely will be weak.
however, our world now is divided.
Afreen Apr 8
The grim face of chaos

sets in as the world gets

chained to the cacophony.

Speech of silence is unknown,

The silent tortured in their mental cages.
Lee Carter Mar 25
Born in nineteen seventeen,
And died in sixty-seven.
His heart gave out, he became a ghost!
But did not go to heaven...

So now he haunts these hallowed grounds
From silver nights to dewy dawn.
His spectral frame glides above the grass
And drifts across the lawn.

But when morning comes and moonlight fades,
He knows it's time to leave.
To allow the other graveyard patrons
Their own time to grieve.

So he floats off to his tombstone,
Lies down in this coffin bed.
Every morning he dreams he is alive-
But each night he wakes up dead...
Viseract Mar 12
It lurks below my consciousness, the beast beneath the bed
Tortured by imagination, vivid in my head
Strikes without notice, the world is dark and blind
To all the ****** massacres that play behind my eyes

Victimhood held hostage, convinced manipulation
Sickly soul so serpentine, saboteur salvation
Left within the grimaced grin, of tormented left demented
Suffer so, these chains and ropes, you'll never be accepted

Amusement starts to linger, maybe mould, or rot
Decaying internally, for he feels the hope is lost
So smile, smile, smile, and learn to love the sinner
For all that will remain is this twisted, Grim Grinner
Mikey Kania Feb 11
there's a hidden man
he a fan of mirrors
his first name be terror

see this hidden man be
like writer's block and white paper
like planes in skyscrapers

there's a hidden man
skin made of cobweb: an-other
no friend sis or brother

there's a hidden man
wenn er dich packt: renn!
there is a hidden man

he a cheerleader who
became the grim reaper
Lonely Heart Feb 5
Lend me an ear
Or a helping hand
For a destitute queer
Left upon these lands
Roaming with fear
Of an ever striking hand
Man is so frightful
Yet women are deceitful
A modicum of grace
To exit this rat's race
Ascending to the clairvoyant light
All I see the is the darkest of nights
The misty reflection upon the pond
The dark side of the moon that grows fond
I don the most dreary of expressions
Omissions of derision and deceit
A young lass still ******* on her mother's ****
Yet the pain that weighs on her empty heart
Knows no bounds, home is where the heart is
And in her heart misery resides
It lays it laurels of pain to rest in her being
Every where she goes it follows
The beating of a drum, the beating of her heart, and the siren song of misery's embrace
For darkness is fond of company and mist is its greatest ally
Lend me a hand, and I'll greet you with a grim countenance
David Hutton Dec 2019
He stands there with a passive regard.
The silence mirrors that of a graveyard.
In front of a lit door,
enters the wintry air.
Extends his arm, welcomingly unbarred.
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