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Marina 7d
I listen to you sleep, when i type this down.
Little groans from you are music to me; like James Dean and Audrey Hepburn.

It felt like forever
and I crave you every day,
i craved you more when you were sad, because i just wanted to hug you and let you know that i'm impulsive but will never leave you.
I dream of us married and having kids one day..
See, i've grown attached to you.
You're a cancer filled with love,
and other girls took you for granted, i feel.

But they've later died with a cold heart
because they couldn't control the temperature.

Your beauty is loud, but you were silent.
                              let me touch you and help you roar,
                                                      because i'm a lion
ps, i love you
Odd man out
At the lion's funeral
Laughing hyena
She pressed her lips against her dying ciagratte bud like a painter would with his paintbrush.
It was almost poetic,
The way her beautiful mouth caressed something so poisonous to her soul.
She had the eyes of a wild lion,
A deep brown that looked like melted chocolate on an immense summer day.
She fluttered her eyelashes like a gentle butterfly taking off into the breeze, her light conplexion made the rays from the sun look so warm and inviting.
Her wild soul danced in her lion eyes as her calm expression and relaxed body sank into the empty air around her, swirling with that grey cigarette smoke.
Curling hair.
Gentle waves.
The calm before the storm.
The roaring storm took on a life of its own in her wild eyes.
werdnaZ Oct 16
I've put courage in my heart and lightning in my hand
I strike the ground with enough force to topple buildings
My war cry is heard from every mountain
My spirit, an eternal flame burning as bright as the sun
And my tenacity, equal to a thousand lions
My war mask hides all fear
Any advice helps, I plan on rewriting this, thanks
Aman Dahiya Oct 15
A sleeping lion
Is still a lion
Now that you’ve woken me
Hear me Roar!
There was a dear

She was wild

Lived in a jungle

The lions saw her

They believed they can eat

Her with one bite

And they can hurt

With their nail

The wolves saw her

Walking without fear

Showing her beauty

Walking with very happy

They thought they had her

So they all follow her

The foxes noticed her

She was walking there

They could catch her

So they all approach

When she looked at them

When they saw her face

When they gazed in her eyes

They all admired her

They all loved her

They followed her

They play with her

They admired her

Suddenly she had gone

They searched for her

They looked everywhere

Who saw the wild dear?

At the night the lion appeared

He called with high voice

Come ,come my dear

I invited you to be her

To stay with us

To amuse us

With your beauty face

I am the king of  that world

if you return indeed

Did she return ?

Did she appear?
love could occure by haters.it needs clear hearts
who speaks to you
through a gaze, vast and faint.

his eyes breathe
with a tiresome pain,
almost turned silence.

and tears of olive
sprout tenderly out of him

warm on the lips,
chants on his cheek.
the old saying:
“make love, not war”
never made too much
sense to me.

love is war
and we’re always
fighting for it
like a soldier in combat
because something inside us
tells us that we need love,
(probably from being
at birth)

and for those who dream
of it be labor less

failure is among them

and for those who put in
too much overtime

failure is among them

and for those with hardened shells
that preach they don’t need love

are desperately screaming for it
on the inside with hearts made
of softened clay

our bodies and minds and
feelings are always changing
and the idea to love or be loved
by one single person almost
sounds absurd but for those
who actually can make it happen
is a rare and miraculous thing

it’s amazing what a woman
can and will do for you
after she puts on her eyebrows

like a lioness who hunts and provides
but somehow allows the lazy lion
the credit and reputation
he doesn’t deserve

out of love
out of war
always fighting
Ceasar A Sep 14
somewhere far from wishes and washes of light waves crashing  - --- curves and shores
at moonlight and rough waves,  i sea you float by hummmming,
soothing, swooning, 1920's jazz blues and melodic piano - maybe sad show tunes.
down in the dark, past depths you sea.
i stay down here
im a monster. afraid
but  i can breathe in depths that be.

i've learned to live though.
its actually quite peaceful
not a sound.. not a swim.
just me. floating . and at peace.
I've found restful nights in my solitude. knowing that you're afloat. somewhere. drifting. down below or up high. idk
not too far though.
you'll get your fur wet.

one night, i met the *** of the sea and he asked me if i could have anything what it would be.
well i thought long and hard.
and said

"i wish that no matter where i go, where i float,
how far from sea to sea, that lion on the blue.. her love and heart.  and her stars think of me."

that no matter how many leagues in the sky and sea.
that she looks down at the water - up at the moon. and hums her tunes, thinking one day, that she looks down at me. wondering what love lyes in the darkness that be .
that this krusty krab remains her bearer to be.
a monster to some
but no matter how ****.
remembers every hum and song she's uttered for the sea
its actually quite peaceful
not a sound.. not a swim.
just me. floating
away but never far. that feeling. that be.
Aisha Sep 11
Hues of gold hug the horizon,
The air is heavy with the scent of a rainy day,
A pride of lions moves its limbs with a motion of might,
A motion of magic precedes the pack.

A dragonfly bounces along the river of relief,
The sun sets its final shimmer of sophistication
Behind the silhouette of a striking baobab.

A pocket of air holds the wings of the stork in a mathematical manner,
as it sweeps over of the plateau of promise.

South Africa,
A nation in progress,
Where each combination of skin tones each have a story to tell of its own,
a story of history,
a story of might.

Long live the pride of lions,
the Giants of our Rainbow Nation who sow seeds of sunshine in every corner of the soil.
Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika.
- this poem is dedicated to my country, South Africa. May we become a nation of prosperity and light regardless of race, religion or creed. Let us honor the legacy of our forefathers and emerge as strong and beautiful in every sphere of our existence.
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