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Jana Pelzom May 2020
Death is pleasant,
I had coffee with him the other day.
He makes me quite decent
After every hearty parlay.

You see Life is boorish,
Not all bright
Or sunshine delight;
He makes me question
Why I am alive.

Life hits me with goodbyes
and often times lies;
He’s a little scary sometimes.
But death makes me wary of
What may lie on the other side;
Teaches me how to not just hide.

I suddenly wish to run away
With death,
And hope that he may
Not hurt me like hard Life.

Though in his gentle hold
I am to realise,
His hand is frozen cold;
And I can see when in his gaze,
That with life I should be wise.
Afternoons with Death by Jana Pelzom
© Jana Pelzom 2020
Alicia Moore May 2020
Viper drips from his eyes.
Some scream,
Some drown,
Many meet their demise.
He is made of darkness,
Lacks the understanding of saviour,
He stands starless.
Heartless.
This bodach is life itself,
The hunting knife prowling for all beings.
The essence of evil gift wrapped
With horror and bleeding.
Kai Nov 2019
The sun and moon live in harmony,
One always depending on the other
Needing his light.
Although he is not appreciated as much as the sun,
The moon is reminded of his love.

Without the moon, the sun has no one to
share his light with.
No one to enjoy his conversations,
as the stars are too afraid to get too close.
He is anxiously waiting for every dusk and dawn,
Knowing these were the only times they had.

Without the sun, the moon would be forgotten,
No one to light the night, no one to guide the footsteps
Of Night Owls across the world.
He waits patiently for dusk and dawn,
Knowing he would get to meet the sun once again.

The sun and moon live in harmony.
Although everyone disapproves of their love,
They continue to exchange stolen kisses
At every dusk and dawn

K.W.
Undead Nomad Nov 2019
Time is of the essence
not even the hands of fate
could manipulate
all are cast in her glow
all are mortal still before her

oh
how I wonder
with all the spite about her
do they even know who holds the key?
for they change when she passes
and lose her all too often
she stands until forgotten
yet in anticipation
while her tears flow like sand

but still her heart ticks on
unabashed of its own existence
its purpose and will are reason enough
to beat for war or melody
to satisfy its owner's deepest desire
to remain to cherish all that is

for she would not touch
nor acknowledge
nor have capacity to love
nor reasoning for the existence
of that which was not for her

and so I say to you
remember
when you loss track of Time
when you take her for granted
when you waste her for naught
that Time too has a beating heart
Paige Error Nov 2018
Night time falls revealing the grandeur of a vast kingdom. As the sun slinks silently and sullenly to sleep a new world burst to life. The stars dance across the sky, one by one gracefully twinkling to life with the music of the night. The wind sprints across the plain playfully chasing the amber waves. They laugh and play transforming the peaceful pasture into a lively landscape. As the world goes to bed imagination emerges and immerses the world into a dream. Clouds float peacefully meandering across the sky listening to the sweet melodies of a nocturnal sinfonietta. Crickets and owls harmonize happily under the moons silver rays. The world is at peace tonight. Finally I am at peace with it.
Nayana Nair Jan 2017
I see this small image of me

in my mind’s eye.

In a world filled with black fog,

there in the center stands someone.

Who feels like

my life personified.

I feel I am copy of whoever

stands in that darkness.

I feel I only exist there.

I feel I am the darkness.
Mesmed Jausa Apr 2015
A return to these streets
Not to understand the incomprehensible void
Of lost time
Or because of duty bound marks
Left by chains
But for debts yet paid
In full to the ghosts
Which hold the self ransom
Remedy Dec 2014
Not Particularly living up to his name,
Fear stands with open arms,
Welcoming me with a smile.

He is Handsome.
Standing tall with no suspicious qualities;
Beautiful eyes carry no emotion,
Crimson orbs, fiery yet tranquil.

He is Kind.
Like the boyfriend you've always wanted,
He will embrace you with warmth,
Completely faithful in your name.

He is perfect.
And yet, he is what flaws mankind.
Stalking your mind, making you wish
you could walk away from his embrace.

He is persistent.
Making you hesitate with decisions,
Closing your mouth before you can speak,
Making your eyes surge with eerie anticipation.

He is aggressive.
Knocking you over with ominous thoughts,
Choking you, restraining your voice.
Shackling you, turning you powerless.

He isn't real.
Conjured up by outside voices,
By your own nature, and though you know that,
he is more real than any person.

He is Fear.
And he will consume you.
My friend asked me to write a poem about fear. Two years later, I did it.

— The End —