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summer aches and whines
when heavy blades press against its neck
it's foul; fair game

summer dies, decays, desecrates
suddenly, summer is seasonal;
less tangible than Hell had ever seemed
Maja 17h
you fought with good intentions
but for all the wrong reasons
"The road to hell is paved with good intentions"
I wear him silently. It's been two years. But somehow, he still racks my bones.
Anger is a heavy emotion. I wear it silently. I think too often. My mind is riddled with age old anxieties, of not being enough.
For him. For my mother and father. For my sister. For myself.
Where does it end? When do I forget about the freckle, neatly placed on his top lip? How I fit like a puzzle over him? I wonder if he thinks of me from time to time.
I hope I haunt him, the way he haunts me.
Did it crush him when I filled his void so soon? It crushed me.
I often think I am the issue. I should save people from my path of hellish destruction.
But I continue to fill The Void.
**** in da feels, i dont even like u anymore tf.
The crooked claws of darkness clashing
Targeting my weakened soul
Upon my broken mind a'gnashing
Sizzling like scorching coals
Hope and faith they're busy slashing
Torturing with many wretched tools
As the world around me crumbles and comes down quickly crashing
How they've defeated many fools
After all is said and done

The fiery fangs of darkness mawing
Targeting my broken mind
Upon my sanity they're a'gnawing
As I'm running out of precious time
My freedom to live they are a'stalling
The hope of peace sounds so sublime
As I fall to my knees and attempt escape
By crawling Freedom sounds divine
Desperately losing the battle as I'm frequently bawling
Because I know I'm trapped inside
When all is said and done

Consumed in reckless insanity I still ponder
The depths of evil is quite the wonder
Will I be forcefully be cast a sunder
When all is said and done?
Just some thoughts I have.
but heaven ignored

as man made mind
creates a hell to heaven
or a heaven to hell
Queen Z 7d
From the birth till the death,
Has different level of stress.
Life starts going in darker rooms,
No switch of white light to press.

Since the birth of the child,
Parents force to be at the front in life's races.
Among the 1000,5 succeed,
But have something left in life which can bring snake on the face?

Bad memories give so much of pain,
Start smoking and drinking.
For sometimes give some relief,
But more deeper in hell,it's taking.
Jay M Oct 20
Quiver, shiver
Tell me what you see
A trillion eyes
Staring at me?

Flickering light
Hands in their flight
Clack, clacking away
At keys of black
Refusing to say
To utter but a word
Adjust a greatly aching back

Cold and filled with pins
Unwilling, shift in unease
As I sit here
Clack, clacking away
At keys of black
Lingering is a gripping fear
Nevermore are there to be great wins
Only sins
Of failure and defeat

Baking in the boiling heat
For my sister
Something sweet to eat
While my brain is playing twister

Back to the keys
Oh the clack, clacking keys!
How they press,
How they form my stress
Into something beyond my brain
To express my tries in vain

Listen, and listen well,
For this day is a taste of hell
One of many soon to swell

So each day
Here I stay
Clack, clacking at the keys
Unsure when this racing mind shall be at ease.

- Jay M
October 20th, 2020
Oh the great stresses of high school.
Rhys Hebbs Oct 20
I saw two silhouettes
standing oblique
in the dark mystique
of a long dead street.
With my path blocked
from the light beyond
I was denied the prize
from where life absconds.
Were they lovers or threats?
Or jesters and priests?
As they turned astray to face me
With eyes of charcoal gold
They undressed their bones
to bare the holes
within the prisons of their souls.
Tattooed upon these wounds
were promises forged too soon
Shattered ‘neath the witness
of a crimson, crescent moon,
I saw ones fate
soon marooned
with great fortune
entombed in doom.
The second wore simple linens,
and espoused poetic virtues
He spoke of poets long since dead
but said you can reach them if you choose.
As I drew closer to these phantoms
I spied familiar faces
One was young and one was old
They spoke of fortunes long foretold
They spoke of ******,
they spoke of Buddha,
they said life is what you make it
When I gazed into this mirror
I was neither dejected nor elated
❝ 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 ❞
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