A lone tree languished In the world’s oldest Forest It being the first Tree whose branches Had been butchered for a book Creating clean, crisp, pages And how the tree moaned It’s voice infecting the wind Howling throughout the night And lingering on into the day Causing the others trees to shun it They were content to merely sway In the breeze Or basking in high noon Concerned with nurturing Their own nutrients, Their sap preserving their old ways Until the first library First bookstore First College Came to claim them all
O Hallowed quieten! Adopt my flutter and absorb me Unveil my attaint and abide in me Establish a sanctuary, in my grime In the susurration of mine ministration .... cleanse this aloofness Make it my armour from foray And my soul to you will belong
You’re sitting ******* on your toilet with a joint burning your lips and you see that it is the birthday of the girl you used to love three years ago. Outside, a singer on the tv painfully sings out : I can’t take my eyes off you. I can’t take my eyes off you. You listen to it thinking about the girl you were in love with the last month. The joint is over. You should flush it down the toilet. Spray a room freshner on the stench of disappointment and loneliness beneath you. And perhaps, go outside, sit by the window and think about the girl you’ll be in love with tomorrow; or the day after, or whenever she comes. They never stay. That’s what you have learned. You can be high as long as you have more of it. It still won’t fill the hole you have in your heart. But yeah, it helps.
If I want to plug in my headphones, I guess I'm rude That doesn't make any sense If I leak a tear, I'm being over-dramatic Can I not have emotions? If I'd rather read a book than hang out with everyone, I'm "emotional" I don't know if I can deal with this anymore. Sometimes I wish I was quiet all the time So I wasn't expected to be loud
Crown of words and a suit of metaphor, ring of art and a heart aflame with pain..all have failed me in this material moment. A poet without his words, a writer who no longer bleeds ink ...being speechless is not a good sign obviously, silence is a pig in the mud and never gold. So much pain and so little to say, so much to say and no way to express with words what the heart screams; no more flame. Noah_arkenswagg
What avails of this sidereal year? If not my love with me ever.
What if the flowers spread and disperse? Even they make the earth paradise.
What though sweetest your incessant loving be? If now you're receding from me.
What lies behind your heart to reside far? To me it seems all, you rift through the clouds like a lone star. Is it a gentle pride? It’s your fallacy my beautiful bride!
Afraid of your restless youth and irresistible trait, I am drawn so close to you; so no one can drift us apart. My thoughts in your mind should often come across A timeless true love in your mind brighter than luminous stars That you never forget.
Playing hot and cold never dishearten the resolute. Give and take in love is an enchanted gift Never drift away from true love otherwise pain will grow in rift.
Where have you been all this while? Your sweet incessant love beguile.
Setting moon besets, between us flitting moments Wretchedness came upon in disappointments. The days, the moments and the years all unfetched begone. All this time, our feelings had never lain dormant and forlorn There you dear staring at me willingly, Yet looking upon your grace continually.