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MsRobota Aug 2021
Hi
You don't have to reply
I know you're trying, fighting to stay above crashing waves
And avoiding perilous rocky coasts

Hey
How do you feel today?
I just wanted to reach out, and make sure you're okay

I'll be your lighthouse
Standing on rocky cliffs
Dancing on the sandy shoals
Forget your shame and your strife
And come dance with me for a while
Love

Hi
You don't have to reply
I know it’s exhausting, holding onto an invisible raft lost at sea
Avoiding dangerous shallows

Hey
How do you feel today?
I just wanted to reach out, and make sure you're okay

I'll be your lighthouse
Standing on rocky cliffs
Dancing on the sandy shoals
Forget your shame and your strife
And come dance with me for a while
Love

I know you're drifting past everyone
feeling distant from everything
I know you're feeling strange
But this isn't your first time sailing
And I'll always be waiting at harbours and bays
Like I always do to make sure you're okay
Love

I'll be your lighthouse
Standing on rocky cliffs
Dancing on the sandy shoals
Forget your shame and your strife
And come dance with me for a while
Love
yuki Dec 2015
crowd of tiny black birds
one of them prettier than the rest
feathers shimmering golden
but when his brothers and sisters fly
it remains below
because you can't fly with wings made of gold
aar505n Nov 2015
It's hard to know which way the wind is going to blow
And whether I will blow with or against it
Weather is temperamental
It has its own mentality - its own sovereignty.
And in a sense, innately sentimental.
How spring brings life - winter takes it.
Season change with little reason
Not strange in the grand scheme of things. Does it really matter how green the ground is?
How blue the skyline?
Does it harm us if it's not warm enough? What's enough?

I don't know which way the wind is going to blow.
But blow it will and maybe this time I'll  blow with it.
Astrotourist Al Apr 2014
I will rub an extract of evil over the papers,
I will dispatch my feelings through the electric wires.
When
The anger and fear beat the inside of me,
When it is cold
And empty.
My abstract castle is unbreakable,
Inside its tower there is a smell of a wild smoke.
Fairies and mermaids
do not exist here.
Their false ensemble left a deposit
On yellow pages of "News" and "Truth".
Cocoon-rooms, detonator-heads,
And a den of the hungry monster inside you.
Intrigues are weaved by the city,
Their dream is
A blind chase after a dollar.
I am counting the floors of a building,
I am burning this life.
I am spitting on a free ticket
To a world raging in a gray palette.
We continue to stir mirages,
While time aimlessly runs,
While the burning math flies over the petrol canister.
A bitter moment
Will not become sweeter with a handful of coins.
I will go to the darkness,
Which is inside me,
To experience light.

— The End —