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eng jin Apr 2018
He’s the father
the light that guide
the rain that shower
the land with hope

look up now
he is in the clouds above
whispering words of comfort
giving strength
to the people he loves

this blessed memory
lingers on
a gentle warmth
in all our hearts
duang fu Aug 2018
the mightiest conqueror -
do you hear your battle cries
ring clear in your ears?
as the ends of your weathered
cloak tickle the ground,
these vapid plains seem
to awaken -

she told you this Kingdom
was not yours to lead,
and looked down on you as you
picked up the broken pieces
of the cup she sent
flying across the room -

the words that he spat
were as sharp as the sword
he held to your throat.
speak not of royalty, he said.
for you will have none of it -

you falter and you fall
and you whisper to yourself,
they're right. this kingdom
isn't rightfully mine.

but if I fight for it and win,
it **** well is.

but that's just your song;
but that's not entirely wrong.

(so do you blame others for
making you a bad person?)

(or do you blame your motivations
for making you a bad person?)
Written 2nd August 2016, inspired by Regina & Snow White from the American TV show Once Upon A Time.
Lily Jul 2018
As I took a walk outside,
I noticed something that caught my eye.
Twisted in the grass, ingrained with dirt,
What I saw made my heart hurt.

Monarch's wings I had found,
Which gave me feelings so profound.
An intense sadness, helplessness, fear,
Overcame me as I beheld these artifacts dear.

In death or life, they must have been torn,
These beautiful wings that the creature bore.
I picked them up and held them close,
These wings that symbolized what I feared the most-

Losing myself, my biggest part,
The part of my soul that is dearest to my heart.
And what for my memories, good and bad?
What if I couldn't remember anything; wouldn't that be sad?

The monarch's wings sit still on my dresser,
A reminder of my constant stressor,
Yet also comforting me just the same,
As I pass through each day, feeling slightly more brave.
Autmn T May 2018
I will love you gone. Fluttering heartbeats shake trees into homes. Planting feet in the disposible cottages I roam freely from. I love you Brown even though all I've ever known was Green. Once an alive thing now foraged. Barren as I am wingless, Cant turn away from lacking leaves. I will love you deathly even if you dont nourish me any longer. You return greener than before, but sap only so sweet can be found on a dead tree.
Written during seeing a Monarch after asking the universe to send me a sign on if I was doing all I could.
Dakota J Dawson Apr 2018
The crowd sings a tune
Most dreadful

It is with steel
Cold retribution
Uneven fire

That he shall die

Formalities unsecured
Royalty disbanded

Speech said
Hostility silenced
Peace has come

A hairpiece
Eyes an unnatural shade of blue
Hands reaching for a god

Face unsure
Blade ready
Head severed

Without God
Tangible mercy
England is set free

Gold to ash
Mind to dirt
Heir to none
Martin Mikelberg Jan 2018
And that is what it was, a chance encounter
Matthew Harlovic Oct 2017
i wish i learned how to let go from the get go
because i wouldn't have changed faces like a gecko.
her body was a temple i painted art deco,
i fell for her tempo it resonates like an echo.
i tremble at her tone yet her treble let alone
could break any heart made of stone.
she's known to play her part,
she's shown she can master it.
she hits every note,
she's dead accurate.
she's a natural when it comes to the art.
she's outsmart anyone even the likes of Descartes
and depart in the dark just to get a head start.
she's a work of art with beautiful quarks
that set apart the sharp remarks
with the monarch sparks
we shared that night we were in my parked car.
i swear you might be the most astounding star
i have ever found on my radar
but you are by far the very avatar
of a die-hard wild card.
are you barred in?
has the flower child outgrown her garden?
or were you just starving for a greater havest
when you carved out my carcass?
perhaps you're a Marxist
and my work wasn't up to par with your target market.
i thought a monarch was regarded as a god incarnate
yet your true colors were scarlet.
you weaved a web of lies like Charlotte.
have you achieved your dreams yet my darling starlet?
are you set on starring in a different light?
apart from all the starry nights, and sorry fights?
you're such a sorry sight when you hardly ever blink
at anything i say yet everything i think.

© Matthew Harlovic
Vexren4000 Aug 2017
The King of clouds,
The Monarch of time,
Coming together and converging,
To form a hurricane, a maelstrom,
Sweeping the parched land,
Baptizing the soil,
Bringing the seed to sprout,
And the crop to yield,
Bird to drink,
And humanity to flourish,
As they prayed and danced,
In folly rituals,
Hoping for rain.
Validation for their cries.

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