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Arsiana - este valentis caoleste,

memento incredia axare?

Arsiana - et non revetermur

millenia ecrides existenco?

Nobis ecalea in monti vidimus et stellas.

Arsiana - solo est valentis expectabo domum redire,

redire et domum, Arsiana.

Solo est caonillum neo,

e momentum:

stella vivere, vivere stella ecridia

Memento, Arsiana?

Memento incredia axare?

Millenia veo amorphia et inma caonillum, Arsiana.

Qualentis elara nobis in monti streo caenma

Aeonis, aeonia, arinme:

Onmia et estera.

Memento, Arsiana?
This is the original form of the poem and it's written on Ancient Latin language. I have translated it on my mother language (Bulgarian).  I think, the poem is still beautiful in her real form. Sometimes even when you don't understand what it means, you can feel it through the words. I'm working on the english translation as well.
Philomena Dec 3
He is the sunrise over the black hills
He is the feeling from which my soul spills

He is the beating of my heart
He is the pain of being apart

He is my song
He is where I belong

He is amica mea
Because my bean is the best bean
Nolite esse sicut me.
PS Nov 5
I still can’t find the words
Because, perhaps, a part of me feels
That you’ll look at me like I have ten heads
If I say how I cannot heal.

Perhaps I don’t want to heal at all,
Now I am a vulnerable, scorned thing.
The looks of realisation passing over their faces
As I tell my sorry story, my frightening fabula.

The tale of poppies and lilies and
The coldest winter I have ever known.
I was skin and bone with a ******* coat
And I didn’t like who it was that I was.

The tale of glassy eyes and cold ones
And throwing yourself at me
The tale of black and white pudding
Of Brett Ashley and Daisy Buchanan
Of ostentatiousness unrivalled.

I still can’t find the words
I’m angry, sad, tearful in public alone
Confused and bewildered.
Is that how you love someone?
Or claim that you do?

Is that the ‘nice thing’ you’re holding back?
Is that the swivelling chair or the casting couch?
Is that why I cannot seem to get over it?
Not over you, it.

And you say you weren’t well at the time.
I supposed we were both stuck clinging to each other
To broken to move away, to scared to be alone.
But no, this isn’t an excuse.

I still can’t put it into words
How profoundly odd I feel these days
You didn’t hurt me but you hurt me
And all I can see if your smirking face.
‘Calm down, you’re gorgeous.’

Oh, I could hate a hurt like that.
My sorry story, fantastic fabulam
Is it too posh if I speak outside English?
Why do you care? You knew who I was.
You know who I am.
You know.

And I’ll bet you also can’t find the words
So you hide behind cheap drinks and albums
And everything scummy because you despise who it is that you are.
Hoi polloi, the common man.
Whatever ‘common people do.’

I still can’t put it into words
And I don’t want to.
It’s too complex and I don’t have the energy to tell a story
To tell the world of the war I won
The hollow victory, the end of our empire.
Red lips, red boots, silver shoes.
Go to sleep, it’s over now.
Pretty sure I can’t speak Latin but who cares?
display Oct 30
our hands intertwined in blood
our eyes dance across the field in horror
this nightmare i live, for you who hates me so
our words ran through even farther than steel
your eyes kingdoms in my soul once more
you have gone onto what we could not
tears stream as they breathe our ash
even then i fight blind and crippled
my hand in yours

this love is fake in my darkness,
yet i hold her hand
my everything now another's as i fight a losing battle
i scream with no voice my words bouncing colour
i grow cold without your warmth
wont you hold us again?

my storm has no end in this blessing rain
i still scream for your eyes i feel them yet
wont you feel mine as well amica mea
i die in the cold without you
there is no birth for monsters

how is it to have lived and breathed and loved only to be loved without you
amica mea- my love
Infensio intentitus- intention of the troops
We fight and strive for very little in the end.
The results we seek never come easily and because of that,
We suffer.
Without preparation,
Without knowledge,
Without passion
We become at war with ourselves,
Seeking some type of short-term goal
And we are satisfied with just that little.
I choose not to take my anger out on you.
You choose not to make assumptions about my actions.
Yet you cut me down and we're back to square one.
Crying both together and apart.
Maybe one day we'll be stable again but until then,
This resolve is okay for now.
This battle isn't our forever.
SpiritAnimal Aug 29
Rumblings shaking the earth
Names cried out, long lost
Blame the gods, or us
Who forgot to pray?

Buildings collapsing
“Ubi est mater?”,
Children cry
Who forgot to pray?

Ash everywhere
Miles and miles of dust
This is it,
Goodbye Pompeii.
My mind is a pin spinning on its head.
Round it spins and round it goes. 
Left alone it would spin forever, left alone it would be content.

But the world is cruel and nothing is ever alone. And so it wobbles at the breeze and it wobbles when blown and it wobbles sometimes by it’s own to-and-fro. It wobbles, and wobbles, it looks like it may just fall. Topple over and spin no more. But it never does, it always comes back. It always recovers. It always wobbles back.
And it keeps on spinning, round and round it goes.

My mind is a pin spinning on its head.
Maybe this breeze will be the one to push it over the edge.
I wake up
I bath
I work
I finish
I go home
I sleep
I repeat

je me réveille
je prends un bain
je travaille
je termine
je rentre à la maison
je dors
je répète

Mo ji
Mo wẹ
Mo sise
Mo pari
Mo lọ si ile
Mo sun
Mo tun ṣe

أنا حمام
أنا أذهب للمنزل

Watashi wa
watashi no basu
watashi wa hataraku
watashi wa oeru
watashi wa ienikaeru neru
watashi wa kurikaesu

Ego surgere
et bath
ego consummare
i Vade in domum tuam
ego dormio
ego iterare

aš atsikeliu
Aš maudytis
Aš dirbu
aš baigiu
aš einu namo
aš miegu
aš kartoju

Rex Verum Regem
Some pains and sadness trancend race, colour and language.
We all follow the same painfull process to survive slaving away and receiving minimal Reward.

the skylark summons the dead to rise as you watch with cloudy, wishful eyes

our sisterhood survives throughout the dark
they will never silence our voices
when we call to the tune, the world rejoices

wild child, living in a fantasy
wild child, the myth lives on within you
wild child, you create your own dreams
wild child, enchant them
do what you do

the white cat knocks over the lamp with a smile
a sea of tears flows from your eyes as deep as the Nile
a mirage is in sight, a vision it seems
the fabric of your sadness is ripped at the seams
we weave a spell together, fashioned stitch by stitch
you look to me and laugh, mischievous like a witch

our sisterhood still lives on through the dark as we wait for the time to leave our mark
they will never silence our voice
when the world calls our tune we will rejoice

fuera puera, vivens in autem fantasia
fuera puera, quod fabula vitae on intra vos
furea puera, vos creo tuus agnosco somniums
fuera puera
facio qualis vos facio
I tried with the Latin, please message me telling me how to fix it if a false translation bothers you! thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy. blessed be
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