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Sabika Nov 2020
I owe you my life
My wisdom
My talents
My strengths
My beauty.
I thought I knew myself but
I’ll never know me like
How you knew me.
And somehow
You looked passed the ugly
And deemed me
Pulled me to safety
Away from the edge
Inspired within me an urge
To give you my pledge
To serve.

When I thought I reached a peak
I was proven to be short sighted.
When I was presented with the answers
My heart was delighted
And my soul lifted.
You are like the stick my stem is stuck to
As I grow tall, broad and straight.
You are the rope I hold on to
As I climbed and floated,
And you were not bothered by my weight.

You’re a friend to me
You’re the someone I always wanted.
Heard me cry scream and sob
And you were patient when insulted.
And so I live by your mercy
And you remain exalted
And I pledge to continue serving
So that I can prove to you
To myself
That I am deserving.
Mystic Ink Plus Sep 2020
Join me
Being us
The better human project
Genre: Inspirational
Theme: Vow
Norman Crane Aug 2020
Among the hideous shapes
   you are my favoured
For the wretched silence of your scoliotic spine
   flavoured with our crimson wine:
Blood diamonds
   screaming songs of sirens
   writhing on a desiccated island's edge
Boiled alive—
   can be distilled into the language of a pledge
I hereby promise to be yours
Foretell you will be mine
They say patience
Is a virtue
But, being with you
My heart turns careless
Is that so much of a sin
It is the only vice that seems true
It all seems so cruel.
Aleph Oct 2019
Even if from a distance confined
Realisation of the greatest respect
By life’s volatility remaining aside
Still craving to protect

Understand for a fact
That even if a worst fortune
Prevented me to act
And accede to no more importune

Despite lying on the ground
No longer dwelling in the trails
Words unable be found
Prevented to share tales 

Veiled in the dark of night
My gaze no longer hunts yours
Eyes not reacting to light
My affection still endures
Wind forever forsaking my lungs
Heart that have no more hours
The words shorten in our tongues

 When I alone await in the tomb
For the cycle to be complete
 Returning to the womb
Making this life obsolete  

 Still aspiring to be your knight
 When life no longer allow
Quiet and resolute I will fight
  To fulfil my silent vow

Hear my lonely plight
Angel in all your shine
Help me with my regard
Complete my vision
Always in her guard
Replace me in my mission
some feelings dispense definitions, there are a lot of ways to care
some are  so strong that go beyond time, beyond space beyond egoism
Kayla Gallant Sep 2019
Lie across
Train tracks
Without fear
Call it insanity
Yet you stand
Hand on chest
Pledging your life
To the men
Who dictate you
mindless sheep
Em MacKenzie Jul 2019
If I went back in time I’d kick myself in the shin,
try to grow a spine and then reinforce my chin,
with hardened steel over rusted tin.
‘Cause it’s taken hits beyond count, infact I’ve lost track of the amount,
but I know even with my jaw broken I can still force out a grin.

I don’t want to have to lie
but it seems I’m guided into it for an alibi,
and I can’t help but question why I try,
when there’s no one to answer to; just time flying by.

I’m not as stupid as I act,
but I guess I can say I’m a good actor.
I make a sound but immediately retract,
because in a split second I balance every factor.
I don’t want to be another casualty
in a war effort so effortlessly,
in a fight that shouldn’t concern me,
but my flight instinct took flight instinctively.

If I could go back in time I’d clock myself in the face,
past me would rebut “what a disgrace,”
while I’d agree to the mirrored me who’s never finishing, **** even last place.
I know that my shoes were tight and tied,
I was at the line waiting I never could hide,
but still I’d trip and flounder, I should’ve double checked each lace.

I don’t want to have to lie
but it seems it’s better than admitting defeat or spitting out a goodbye.
And I can’t help but wonder why,
I even cry when I’ve taped my mouth shut and closed each eye.

The butterfly of my effect has lost each wing,
trapped in a jar, not going far;
what a tragic thing.
I press my hand against the dome,
to let it be known, it’s not alone,
this prison’s now it’s home.

Poetry has given me the ability to travel through time
to stand in shoes I abandoned on the concrete.
Paint the scenery in every word and rhyme,
and change the outcome in each stanza and beat.

I fully feel the sun shine and the wind’s blow
every single day like I’ve just arrived and met.
Now I’m cursed to be a Romeo to a stand in Juliet.
Design the plan for me, and I’ll blur the lines and matra,
I’ll fight as Marc Anthony to only one Cleopatra.
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