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The feeble glow
of yesterday's myths
and illogical legends
drift into obliquity
where the pallid shapes
of old friendships
and silhouettes of demented heads
with a splash of light
on the satirical side of solemnity
in the pursuit of profundity.
Sam August Jan 2015
I've never seen a night like this,
The moon is low, it's wanning yes,
But still it seems so calm to me,
It coats the ground so awful sweet,
With softness that I've never seen,
It's almost like I'm in a dream,
And so I kiss the waning moon,
On nights like this, I'm asking you,
How many nights we'll see like this,
With pallid darkness, sweet and pitch.
Dark Jewel May 2014
Whats with the attitude?
Why do you subtract so?
It doesnt make sense.
No sense at all.

Due to the past,
I feel nothing.
I am not sensitive,
Only specifically.

Get used to it.
I dont love like I did.
Beyond blue eyes.
A pallid mask is hid.
I really hate it when a person, parent or friend becomes an *******.
Martin Narrod Apr 2014
as soon as these blue speckled
socks go, that's it. A new bright black death.A solemn weir on a stark horizon.Give me a reason to wear color. My hueless affidavit
runs me into the Earth, where I sprout up
a pallid keb- brain orf'd, you could drag my etiolated ebon
body through the ovine fold or take me to the theater. When I was just a minor teg, I sheared my mim kip, I fuckinggave it to you outright. In this little
cote my wan mien nigrifying; my calamitous black, quaffed full of congou in demitasse, of souchong & saucers. My atrous wethered body albicantly degenerating in the atrous sun. I'm crusting over with wanness and you, you're fortifying in the cwm where I used to yaff and stray. Your ovivorous hunger,something I never knew, when first you came for my jecoral flesh, just another bot digging through my soft toison. Like Dall's Prometheus being sheared from the flock-you cut me away. In this drab and achromic world, you put the wanness in my flesh, the gid in my heart. Still.
Just these blue socks are left.
Written Sitting against an Oak tree outside of a family friend's farm in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin

— The End —