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Sombro Feb 2015
Howl, dread wind,
Howl your dread loss
Of times when ruddy lords danced merry in candlelight
Of low halls strung with the forest's skeleton
Of the high hills holding beast and other wonders of the night
Howl
For that corner of a peak trough
Catching the rain and cupping it
To the thirsty mouth of the beast within
To the sword of the proud beggar
And his honour in the sky
Which he looked upon from a hill
Quiet on his cold brow
And as he listened
He heard the howl
Of the times long passed.
Howl, dread wind.
Chalsey Wilder Feb 2015
Standing at the cross road I sang his name
The one people always mentioned when they found out something shocking
God was never here
This place is a barren grave for the forsaken
No flowers were ever placed here
No plant ever grew here
God was never here, but this barren land still has some beauty
God was never here
And it was never ashame
He makes me want to
drag red ribbons from her throat;
see what shapes
lye beneath her coat;
maybe walk for a thousand years,
without any fear of stroke...
never to return to this Land
called: Love.

He brings out the violence in me - -
for, I fear for the loss
of his soul, to thee.
He brings me to the light...
It's what makes it worth it;
all these foreign feelings of envy,
sneaking up my spine,
poured into my wine...

If only I were the only girl
in the world...
If only he were blind to
the golden locks of Hell
and the perfume scent of smell...
He makes me selfish;
No, I do!!
He makes me Hellish;
That's me too!!
What to do, what to do...
I love you.

He'd never turn.
So why does this passion
rapidly burn?
Like a clench of my fist,
and a stomach that churns;
He's mine!! Only mine!!
Never a question,
yet my words
portray suggestions;
Empty thoughts-- false dissatisfaction.

Unnecessary worries
and unwanted emotions...
Love can cause quite a commotion.
Worth it?
Yes, it's worth it.
Crazy?
Of course, I am.
I love you.
I love you...
I love you.
Thank you;
*Don't leave.
Mosaic Jan 2015
I'm crying on my break.

My summer romance in winter died before leaves could even
Fall

My sister, younger
Cut her hair like mine
...for a boy

I wish I walked on air
So these footsteps
I tread with a leaking heart
Could not be easily followed
Chiyo Jan 2015
i think, in another life, we were forests
worshiping the seasons, or maybe we still are,

bound to the earth by roots

perhaps we were minerals and crystals deep underground,
and we may have retained the fear of being buried

or we could have been the wind or water
for we still whistle and bubble our way around this planet.

and we still howl in the ears of the living

i like to think, in another life, we were fire
because we burn an impression on these lands

and can still be an inferno even when reduced embers
Lesly Jan 2015
Son las 9:10 pm. Estoy acostada, pensando. Extraño mi família. Extraño a mi primo. El fue como un hermano para mi. Recuerdo cuando me sentía triste y me agarraba de la mano. Me decía que todo iba estar bien.

Extraño a mi abuela. Quisiera ir a buscar su tumba y dejarle flores. Quisiera verla pero no puedo. Se que ella esta cuidando a mis hermanos. Se que esta feliz y libre de todo dolor.

Quisiera estar en mí país. Sea como sea siempre sera mi tierra. La amo. La extraño. Extraño el calor. Extraño las playas. Cuando me acostaba en la hamaca de mi tío solo para ver las estrellas desde el techo de su casa. Ah, que lindura.

Recuerdo un muchacho que deje. Nos quedamos en volvernos a ver pero murió tan joven. No lo volví a ver. Me quedé con la frase "te volvere a ver pronto. En la próxima te invito a cenar o algo..pero que nos veremos nos veremos eso si." Eso fue lo último que le dije.

Pero no se cuando me iré. No se cuando, pero me iré para siempre.
The Wordsmith Jan 2015
I lived in a Land of shifting Reality,
Where men Swore to themselves their unyielding Fealty,
There was Darkness, but it was of our own Making,
And the World was ripe with Plunder ready for the Taking,
We answered to No One, nor did they Us,
And there was no Order, nor was there Class,
All that mattered, was our Existence,
Logic was Anarchy, and Anarchy was Sense,
Space was an Ideology, and the Truth was a Choice,
It was in this Land, that I learnt to See,
What it really meant, to truly be Free.
Sombro Jan 2015
I love the hills
Patted soft by time and feet
Of so many off for walks.

I love the cold
Strange, I know,
But when I'm shivering

I love the rain.
The second skin of
My land telling me I'm clean now.

I love the grass
The carpet of the thick ground
A sponge to all my anger.

I love the solitude
Because it's always just
You and me,

My world.
A bit of dewy eyed love for where I live. I don't usually go for this kind of stuff, but it's a particularly beautiful day outside.
RH 78 Dec 2014
This is it.
The time has come.
My final hour.
I miss my mum.
I'm at the front.
I heard some shots.
I'm feeling scared.
I miss mum lots.
If I make it I'll make mum proud.
The shells are close now.
The shells are loud.
I'm ready to go
To Jump over the top.
I cannot hear.
My ears went pop.
I look to the left they tell me go.
I should have been honest and let them know.
I'm just a kid the youngest around.
I don't want to go but I'm duty bound.
For king and country I'll go over the top.
In no mans land I will not drop.
Bluebird Dec 2014
in wild west there was a tribe,
of men fast as mountain river,
they believed in nature,they had vibe
and gaze that makes you shiver

Suddenly it's been deciced
that they that they become a prey
a white man came to take their land
but they stood in their way

indian only had a bow and an arrow
to fight for his own life
but white man brought some weapons
every one of them died

if you stood on red mountain
you could hear the wind hum a song
soft melody of indian flutes
that are gone for too long
indians red men land river wind mountains vibe shiver nature arrow flute song
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