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Umi Feb 2019
To sink in battle and not by a flash was what I yearned for if I ever were to fall, truly it devoured everything in its gruesome way,
And so, it gobbled up the wishful dream of a prideful defeat,
In the end, I truly wasn't able to protect those I fought for all these years, all these countless battles and tragedies, are a fading memory,
These shameful last moments; handed to the enemy and sat on their testing bench, with my last hope being, the wish that the world may has understood something more important than the agony of war.
Even if the damage could be repaired and parts exchanged, brought anew and even if we make it back in one piece without capsizing:
The damage is painted in my steel, and forever will be a reminder of this fateful day, a sky without any sunlight; perfect darkness,
Perhaps this is the punishment for one who survived without protecting her friends, her partners in crime and her loved ones,
At least, the recorded history will ensure not being forgotten,
Here in my wet prison, these thoughts will never fade.
The ocean floor is a harsh, unforgiving grave..

~ Umi
Zha Zhap Apr 2018
Give me just two of your fingers, it is more frisky;
When excited why act out platonically.
Skin me;
No need to falsify.
Your small hands hold an ocean, then tide me;
Send more white horses to step on my rocky heart;
Of course, sunk already.
Not a submerged foreign object;
Down there I am a reef;
Living for eons, heartily.

You are dear as nature.
I am thirsty, near which slippery cliff is your river.

In the ocean of your hands;
I am fished.

As time passes by, I am more aware of you;
I feel the ocean is not a piece of you;
It is you.
It is like you are offering yourself.

Why is it pellucid?
I can see miles away;
Miles away a dissolving wine.

Your mother calls you;
A crystal big cat emerges from your ocean.
A friend calls you;
You shut your eyes.
Noone comes around.

I notice that I am going to hear a sound;
I hear it, coming from far-flung;
Makes you more chaotic.
Vortical eyes.

Your face is too hot;
It starts to boil;
Rivers come out of your eyes and mouth;
Pouring into your ocean.
No overflow.

What do you represent?
What if you are an atypical?
What do you remind me of?
A bare white-bluish waterfall who offers everything has got?

You have mentioned me in your genome, with a deep shade.
Unclad is an old-hat, we should reveal what we have inside;
By playing with locks.
Suggest me, l will romance you.
Your touch reminds me of the untold.

You freeze, no flow, like it was in the cards.
Your scent, strange.
I should leave to buy.
I hover around you.
My vulnerable bare;
It is up to me to protect you.
I should leave to buy a huge opaque.
I couldn't find my clothing and shoes;
Can I wear yours? Is it weird?

I hear from the neighbouring flat, someone crying in the bath.

You start to tilt and smudge like you were a design on a rug;
I fold it;
Put it in a suitcase;
And leave to exit.
Poetic T Jul 2017
Her tears though silent were like whale songs,
resonating with those around her, they sang
of swimming within loneliness, in an ocean of others.

Cresting on the shores of her cheeks these majestic
emotions collected. All the time serenading her
reflections that were submerged deep within.

All because a harpoon had cleaved upon her beating.
Love was viewed in her eyes by another who sailed
the ocean of her heart. But then took a shot from the bow.

Her heart sank into a ocean of tearful solitude.
Claiming another harpoon he sailed off into the sunset,
but was sunk by the cannon of another's jaded heart.

Her tears though silent were like whale songs,
resonating with those around her, they sang
of swimming within loneliness, in an ocean of others.
Shane Leigh Jul 2017
I sink:
in a world paved with long roads
cratered in deep holes
filling with raindrops
falling against my window.
Patter,
                          Patter,
Patter,  ­                
they say
and I'm no longer sinking;
instead,
I am wet,
in a space where only dry things
should be.
© Shane Leigh
Sandoval Apr 2017
I feel the shadow of your obscurity,

and though nothing is yet lost, I

drown myself in the unknowingness

of your already sunken  eyes.


*-Sandoval
Raegan Meyer Jan 2017
I look up
From the bottom of the ocean
For I sunk a long,
Long time ago.
I see the sparkling surface.
I can almost feel the warmth of the sun
Creating those magnificent
Waves of light above me.
Almost.
Every time I kick off
From the sandy, dark bottom
I simply sink back again.
I'm tied to the seaweed;
Tangled helplessly.
So I struggle helplessly.

You shouldn't dive this
Deep.
For you will sink, too.
It would be nice to have
A bit of your company,
But you still deserve to be
Free.
So it's okay.
I'll watch you float
In the waves above me.
I'll watch you be happy.
I'll watch you soon swim
Back to the bright, crowded shore.
I'll stay here and hope.
But I can't help but wonder-

What is a prisoner supposed to hope for?
It gets lonely down here
Kaya Jan 2017
yellow pages, with thin lines
held stiff, within a black spine
hard to uncover, yet so divine
the pages were empty, but the
smell of them, enlightened
the dusty places, in my mind

i sunk my hollow head, into the book
visionless, there was nothing to look
i sunk my heavy head, into the book
and the smell of rain took-
me away to the land of rain
and brown drenched wood-

the place i loved could only be
visited, through this pocket book
my home will always be between
the yellow pages of your book

-Kaya
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