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Ilion gray Mar 17
Beautiful this is...
behind your time,
you walk alone
...dont you?
You have also been listening
to the rarest sound,
the silent thunder
punching a chasm
through the trembling clouds
who pour the wraith like waves
10,000 times the weight of day
down past
the winding flights of space,
The staircase,
of midheaven;
bearing down
In sight only,
before those who see.
Not only are they "awake"
But "watching" waiting, without liberty.
Yet free from themselves;
oh ' the counted few
The few, that will watch the dark swallow time...
they have watched the flights
of tumbling word equations
whispered in the longing eve
of a lovers dream
of some pastimes lovers touch,
taste, ways, words, or walk ,....
whilst yet you lay beside them...
dying each night while watching the 4 gate
of nimbus,
fighting the innumerable demons emcamped just outside of that lying false lovers mind,
Thus, a poets purpose.
To eat and drink of sun and moon,
Of the seasons to taste the lattices,
And ***** the vortices,
buta poet must then at some point lock themselves away inside the dark heart of days and of the worlds,
Eat the pain, drink the putrid tears of selfish gain, the lying lot of us all!
Tear out your heart!
all ye, who would be poets-
Peel away the crown of your days
Cast it against what you forgot was a
not the wall crossing the yard but the world they built for you
while you were in the world,
Casting you against
the unending glass walls of days.
Then, watching from
far too far away
Like star...
as the light in all of the worlds
  is dimming
And memories drip down
Realities wall into the everlasting
Flame of minutes.
If you are listening,
you should know by now what i am saying, your heart should be in full vibration
and your skin turned inside out
as the ageless flames reveal your soul,
Rage resoundingly!
writing your
voices across the wall tell it to the
Dark! Cast light across the veil!
Let them see!
Rip out your eyes pour them too,
Down, down into the page!
Write the raging world
With blood and flames!
before the last day drips
Out of sight
down past the bottom of this abyss of days.
zz Feb 17
You entered my soul
and pierced my heart
making me beg for your love
for ages now
desperate I must seem
hopeless my friends say
but I know no ther way
than loving you
What are we doing
I don’t even know
Why can’t I
Just let these feelings go
We’ve stayed innocent
But for how long
Next time we’re alone
What if things move along
That’s not what we want
But I don’t know if that’s true
There’s ideas in my head
That want to be pursued
But I can’t give in
There’s too much to lose
So I'm hopelessly in ****
With nothing I can do
Äŧül Feb 2016
Present age is as horrible as anything
Present day is as gloomy as anything
Present time is as unforgiving as ****

This is what I feel.

But I'll make my present worthwhile,
Someday surely in another life.
My HP Poem #1012
©Atul Kaushal
Zeenat Sep 2015
And I've seen what that kind of love can do to people. I've seen it shred their insides apart , I've seen it set fire to eyes once calmed of storms.

I've seen that kind of love make people blind to what's right in front of them. To the idea that maybe they're , the only ones , who think happiness can be bottled up and kept for the rainy days.

It's agonizing. Really.

Watching someone become so consumed by a feeling that it takes away the common sense it takes to notice that things aren't right.
That kind of love , it chews you up , spits you out , and gargles just to be sure the very last taste of you is gone.

That kind of love.

The kind of love that isn't ready to meet you on the bridge but fools you into jumping off the edge with your eyes closed.

That kind of love.
The kind of love everyone should be afraid of.
Charlie Jan 2015
Experience is a funny thing,
Most times in a way that doesn't
Make you laugh.*

I've put on my mask before,
Many times over the years.
You can't help but be upset,
So let me see the tears.

If your words say you're fine,
Then why don't your eyes say the same?
Don't lie to me, I invented that look
But you're not the one to blame.

Don't tell yourself you're ok
When you know that's not the truth.
You think you're fooling everyone when
All you fool is you.

It's not "being strong" that makes it better,
Whatever that even means.
It's by accepting you're upset and hurt;
That you're just a human being.

You *want
love? You are loved.
An open heart? Into mine you can pour.
I'd rather see my heart get destroyed than
You hopelessly giving up yours.

Feel your feelings,
Let those demons out.
'Cause when they're locked up
They too scream and shout.

You're beautiful when you cry,
As with everything you do.
When beads of tears roll down your face
I see the beautiful in you.
Feeling nothing is worse than being dead. Feel something, and be happy knowing that whatever happened, it didn't **** you.
Does she hold you like I used to?
When you were too scared to
pick your head up from my shoulder?

Does she hum to you at night like I used to?
When your mind was too restless
to allow you to close your eyes?

Does she make you laugh like I used to?
When you'd stop only because you felt
like your stomach was on fire?

Does she make you feel bothered like I used to?
Does she make you feel mad like I used to?
Does she make you want to scream like I used to?

Was I ever even enough for you?
Will she ever even be enough for you?
Will she write one of these poems four years from now like I am?
Will she wonder what she ever did to deserve the hurt you caused?
Will she prevail? Will she crumble?

I'm still trying to figure out which one I'm doing.
You have made my life confusing.

Will I ever feel comfortable holding someone again?
Will I ever hum to another late at night?
Will I ever tell a joke just to hear another laugh?
Will they ever make me feel like you did?

Will she wonder the same things four years from now?
Will she think about me then?
She took what was mine
and in the end I wouldn't
be surprised if someone
took what she though
was hers.
Just another young girl who can't seem to banish her mind of frustrations with an ex.
Copyright 08-2-2014 Elizabeth Lawrence ©
i Apr 2014
the hopeless daydreamers,
are the best kind of people,
because they have
low expectations
and won't get too high,
just so they can sink too low.
life is so much
easier when you have
no hope,
because you already
know that all
of your dreams
will be crushed
by destiny
and karma.

— The End —