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Melody Mann Mar 10
It was misguided attachment as you were broken and I was shattered.

We brought our shambles together and crafted what would have been forever.

Yet I awaken to a reality more fickle than fragments my memory can bare.
caustic famine
eyes poised to attack
two sides of the brain divided
like strangers on a phone
your grin sadistic
yet somehow inviting
bitterness holds court
in the beauty of your hunger
mirror speaks in riddles
no love survives
The room is cold
Lit only by the moon
I am curled up on my knees
Agonizing over old wounds
I want to scream
I want to let out a cry
But my voice is so tired
And my tear ducts have run dry

How did my life end up this way
Why did fate pull out the rug
Just to watch me slip and fall?
Was there any thought before it tugged?
Sadness turned to bitter hatred
For whatever calls the shots
It seems fate is against me
Whatever I do, it schemes and plots

That's how I felt ‘til today
When everything suddenly clicked
That there's no force to aim hatred at
There's no one to convict
There's nothing going against me
No puppet master pulling the strings
Just the unstoppable movement forward
And the inevitable losses it brings.

I was misguided..
I'm sorry for all the bitterness I've held for you..
For something that never felt any way about me..
Just a thoughtless process bound by natural law.
31 lines, 321 days left.
Part I
The night, no moon in the sky
The wind, full force as to fly
The cold, as to numb the blood
The trees, shadows the vision flood
The night, dark blue in the water
The wind, of rose is the howled attar
The cold, close to freezing the lake
The trees, static dormant to a shake
The night, solitary is the dark
The wind, momentary is its mark
The cold, nearly settled is the doubt
The trees, silent is their spout

The night, the wind, the cold, the trees

A Swan glides with an asynchronous thread
Feathers in the umbra, the heart partly dead
He has lost his dearest, his alluring arch
Spring isn't coming, no September or March
Once there was another swan
To make the lake shimmer with dawn
Their courtship was the core of the pond
A rare gem of opal coloured their bond
Unlike gems, though, be crushed love can
And it was time's deed right there and then
She now is in a new safe haven
And left was him with an egg of a raven

In the midst of this midnight dreary
The Swan was forlorn and weary
But the clouds of metal became of cotton
The grey marsh sudden, was brief forgotten
A shred of light, two lions glowed
Their manes of fire their passion showed
"What a scene" the Swan had thought
"That's the fervor my heart had sought
Forever bound by a curse of ice
I am void and there's no price
To unlock me from the eternal dream
And let me find my lion gleam"

Still, the sky is yet so white
And the past gloom cannot him fright
At his right the Swan stare
Intrigued by the unceasing flare
A piglet and a spider, what a scene
Why are they ringed by a sheen?
In the night, they play like friends
Fight, discuss and make amends
A web of favours and support
Parades of gratitude are never short
"Oh, is it fondness what I am lacking?
Is this why I am ever cracking?"

Now the display is certainly over
And the Swan hopes to find his clover
No more than ever he is so keen
To live anew and be serene
The night enjoys the happy mood
And let the moon stop its brood
The clouds, at once, no more than mist
An ethereal cast, will this be a tryst?
The moon glitz on a past reflection
A female black swan of mystic complexion
An owl hoots afar and is dismissed
As the hero sings after being kissed:

"Where have you been, my dove?
Why did you leave, my love?
I was so lost in here
Without your voice to hear

Without you to kiss me
Without you to bliss me
I was just a shadow
Missing the rain and the rainbow

But now I can see life
And each thing is so rife
I will give you my heart
So we won't fall apart"

Part II
Night, the moon is sublime
Wind, tame like no other time
Cold, feeble against heart's motion
Trees, mere pawns in this ocean
Yet silence cannot much contain
The disturbing growls of owl disdain
It thrives with strength, to fill the lake
To **** the love and pleasure take
The Swan, still, has just eyes... no ears
So to halt death from ousting his tears
Joy runs his body with iron vigor
His love denies dearth of such rigor

The courtship swims with celestial sync
In an opal ballet of black and white ink
Lastly, his arch the Swan can complete
With a dubious promise of endless heat:
"Our past is antiquity and shall be erased
The future, fertile, a wish to be chased
Let us embrace and with nature be one
Me and you, the rest will be none.
Though, I will only expect your happy devotion
No fear, no sadness, no other emotion
You are my minion, and mine in exclusive
Is this what you craved in your hope elusive?"

The Swan is soon hesitant of the deal
His novel grasp masks her appeal:
"Your words of ice burn down my feathers
Your crooked intentions prevent us together
I was foolish in you to trust my belief
Your offer won't stop my desert, my grief
Love can't ever be monochromatic
Yes, there are moments one's ecstatic
But endless joy is not the way
It will prevent freedom and will me betray
The value of love is shallow without anguish of partition
The bones of love are brittle without a conflict's remission"

The eyes of the black swan fumes in red
The clouds, the moonlight they shred
A tempest thunders over the misty lake
Out of the haze, the bird is now a snake:
"Your faith is missplaced in a callow profile
Your passt came closse to you beguile
You think your luck in love issn't departed
But you are full of sself-pity, fainthearted
Honesst love iss the piercer of my power
And IF you find it, I will to you cower
Yet you have nothing; you're dessperate for ssomeone
Had welcomed the deal, you wouldn't be undone"

The water spreads cold with every heartbeat
The quick rime sings Swan's defeat
The snake reveals its fangs of ink dark
And bites the Swan, a sanguine red mark
All seems lost to this tragic hero
A heart's betrayal in the absolute zero
Until a hoot echoes through the trees
And the bird finally the owl sees
With claws of steel, the snake it slashes
In response, lightning flashes
It breaks the ice and the reptile sears
The Swan is now saved, but not from his fears

A boy wakes up in a nice little room
With a painting of the lake and a flower in bloom
A bee buzzes around about the place  
And in the White Rose, lends with grace
Both make a sound akin to a chatter
They seem happy with their talking matter
The angered boy, annoyed by the insect,
Into the painting, the bee he projects
With a new aspect thrown away
He burns down reality's display
And when a dove finds its way out
The man its wings brake and his out route
This poem tells the story of a forlorn Swan that finally finds his true love but ends up discovering she is an illusion of his own desperate desires. It is divided into two parts as this is a large poem that features two different sets of struggles: finding happiness for yourself while everybody around you seems to have already found their answers, and learning that falling in love with anybody solely because of loneliness and desperation is not healthy in the long run. The poem transforms the speaker into a Swan and ends with an ambiguous point where it is unknown if the Boy is real or if the Swan is actually the real version of the Boy. Or maybe it is left ambiguous if the emotional events of the anthology have left the speaker confused about what is real and what is a dream (is the dream the reality he wants to exist in?), and now he needs the face this new reality he is in instead of dreaming about mystical animals, storms, and flowers.
Ellie Grace Feb 2020
I didn’t mean to be so harsh
to turn my own tongue into a silver blade,
each word spewing from my mouth coated in blood,
but now I am choking on the metallic taste

I didn’t mean to be so cruel,
to break my bones over and over again
reopening old wounds with blunt scissors
attempting to crawl out of my own skin.

But now I resemble a wild animal,
clawing at the very fibres of my being
destroying everything in my path

yet still believing I can sew myself back together
no matter the damage I cause...
Amanda Kay Burke Feb 2020
I knew our decisions were misguided

And I chose to make them despite that knowledge

I wanted you and I to act in harmony

Needed to know every heartbeat pulsating from our two chests was in perfect synchronization
And I was right
Tony Tweedy Jun 2019
How many souls have been lost because they used their heart as a compass?
Astral Jan 2019
One day you make me laugh and smile,
You make my face flush,
And my heart rush.

Some days I just don't feel it,
And there isn't a spark there too,
Sometimes I just can't talk to you.

I wish my heart could make a choice,
That it knew what to say,
Or what to do at the end of the day.

And I just feel lost,
Like my feelings are unfinished,
Like I'm missing something,

But I don't think that something is you...
I guess I'll have to wait and find out.
Bernice Helena Dec 2018
I long

To linger no more
      in the hallways of amnesia;
      A clearing of the iridescent haze
      Into a world beyond ー

To sing here no more
      the sound of soulless sorrows;
      Echo into the distant
      Scapes and seas ー

To see no more
      the sights untold;
      Watch men erode,
      Pale petals unfold ー

And fall back on an unbroken dream.
Rogue Aug 2018
I have immured my heart in a bottle and entrust its fate on to the uncharted oceans, in hopes of finding its way unto you.

In a world that I could never fathom, an outburst of wind of fate seemingly uttered with beguiling promise of love blows at the very moment we least expect. Oftentimes, it is marked by a vehement gush with the force of a cyclone. Sometimes, they could caress one's bare face in tranquility, less likely to be heeded upon.

But the winds cannot be withheld. And those winds steered my bottled heart safely passed through the formidable hurricane, atop the perilous riptides, as it takes an unpredictable yet regulated route—the most delicate course on its extensive adventure—the course towards you. Disregarding your walls, they come barging in your chambers. Beggeting forth, as they often do, an intoxicating idea of the future accompanied by the promise of ardor. And the winds hushed upon reaching you as it sings the song proclaiming glory of a fulfilled quest.

As your face gets cascaded by the reds and oranges of the fading sun, you picked up the bottle, twisted its cork, and allowed my heart to taste the bliss of freedom after being kept out of touch, unable to bathe in the relish for a long time.

You admired its beauty as it is situated on the palm of your hands, as if entrusting the kismet on your ruling.

But you decided it was too precious for you; too fragile to hold on to. It doesn't worth the risk.

Thereupon, you dispose it back into the bottle, whispering mindless vindication and apologies in hopes of obliterating the guilt, as you threw it as far away from you as you could; back into the great unknown.

It was then that the strong winds of fate never presented itself, as if abandoning my bottled heart. It was left floating in the ocean back and forth without reaching a definite destination.

Forsaken. Misguided. Lost.

Never bound to reach the arms it belongs to.
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