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I stand in this inky crucible,
Staring down the gemstones of my work,
But which of these sparkling stones,
Is beautiful enough to be brought to light?
I have blue sapphires,
The color of lonesome waters,
Made of solemn tears.
I have clear diamonds,
Cut carefully,
Each face polished delicately.
But are any of these good enough,
To be shown to the masses?
What if they don't shine as bright,
When they are brought to the light?
I'm pulling poems,
But I'm afraid,
I might set the back down anways.
I'm trying to pick some poems to read for a school event, not going too well.
We head for icebergs,
Faster than we know,
We cherish our unsinkability.

But we don't know what lies on the dark sea's lip,
Often sailing with confidence,
Yet, without a search light.
I sail with hope
Who rises the sun,
What man drags forth light?
I know not the knight,
Valiant to bring forth the sunrise.
Still, valor to his efforts,
For life is better in the light.
There's been many pretty sunrises recently
The day she committed suicide,
it was her twentieth birthday.
She was always shy,
rarely met with people,
seldom heard was her voice.

She loved to spend time alone,
talked and laughed at times,
then fell into silence for days—
until one day,
she fell silent forever.

Fighting mental illness is a little difficult,
but winning this battle is not impossible.
In memory of her, let us be a guiding light,
promote compassion and understanding.

In our hearts, a symphony of empathy thrives,
let us ensure that hope survives.
We can foster a world that’s kind and just,
where battling mental illness—
we rise, we trust.
Dom 1d
Under the current currents
This maelstrom pulls to the bottom
Drown out all sound and colors as they bleed
Into the monochromatic release
The dark can see in the very light you hold
Bioluminescent under the black lit citadels
Reveal secrets in neon tell-tale epitaphs
Tomes scrolling our invocations into life.

What is done in the black dark soon comes to light
Monsters all come alive,  
Devour love and insight your fright,
But it’s not, how you remember these
Torrid torrential memories
Raining down like meteors crashing upon the sea
Fires burning but you’re caught in a freeze
So before it burns away, melting everything down to a stave
I want it all, one last confession, and count your blessings,
The tide will erase. Start on a new unaltered page.

Where do good angels
Go to burn their wings?
Under the current of your currents
Coalesce into a verse
Tethered as one as the song carries on
Bite the bullet, and know for certain
What’s done in the dark comes to light
And you shine so bright under the blackest
Through torrid torrential memories,
The tide will erase, start on a new unaltered page
What would you write if the right could see
Through your heart and past misery,
Could the trauma efface, the love panned across the face
If you truly sat upon the graves,
Monsters dancing moribund across your brain
Burn your wings, and coalesce

I want to shine in your darkest.
Working on a conceptual based collection, everything in that collection will be noted in my author notes here as "Dark Light Culture" or "DLC"
Megan H 2d
Where do you find the light
When they have snuffed the flame out of you
I look to others
But the flame is gone in them too
Nobody knows warmth anymore
Where is the light
Is it truly gone

I remember when the sun shone on us all
Perhaps
We are learning to exist in the dark
Maria 2d
And have you ever heard how poppies smell?
They are so huge, so wild, so ruby-colored!
They're summer harbingers, the lights of fields!
They are so thrilling, brave and so uncovered!

These poppies easily can put you to the sleep
Or even **** you with no difficult at all!
They're real flashes, doping! They're taboo!
They're passion, craziness and sin in whole!

And have you ever heard how poppies smell?
They are as red as real blood itself!
No? You haven't heard it? Oh, it's sad. You know,
That's how heartfelt and true love just smells.
These flowers are magically, hypnotically beautiful!
irinia 3d
the song of birds measures the air
the buds of the future are fragile
what a fate - not a rhyme:
the eyelids are filled with light
Jeev Mar 9
Where should I search life
It a not there in the sweetest memories or bitter truth or in the jaws of lies
Where can I find it when it is nowhere to be found outside
But when I looked into myself
A bimmering light which was suppressed with my own makings
I saw it wanting to be free to enjoy every moment
Wanting to grow and to help others
I saw it never for itself but waiting for me to take its path
I saw it fight all the worlds and my own selfishness
I saw it inside the depths of my soul
A light which never can be dimmer more a light which never can be lived more
A light which never can be happy more
Maybe that's what I was looking for
My own life within me
In an empty world there I stood longing for life with in me
Do not tread here,
Not on this land.
These grasses hide graves,
This dirt is a death-land.
If you must walk this desolate space,
Step carefully, travel light.
If you're not nimble,
This journey may be your last.
Adding another body,
To this grim grass.
Graves
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