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Spike Harper Aug 10
Things come and go.
Like people I suppose.
We play games to pass the time.
Roll dice on gambles.
Take chances with our lives.
Only there is no collecting when coming full circle.
That's called a mistake.
So we jump to other boards.
Hoping we aren't sorry.
Realizing there is no perfection.
Trying to balance every risk.
Like we ever had a clue.
Some try so hard.
While others scoff at effort.
What is the right combo that will lead to the end game.
It's like an ever changing rubix cube.
So many patterns to memorize.
But doing the same thing.
And over.
Is that living.
Or insanity.
Whatever it's called.
One thing is certain.
We shall never get bored.
Playing with our demons.
Hex Jul 15
Cycle, cycle, cycle.

Heart a flourish, mind ablaze,
Up-and-comes a tainted gaze,
Wander into Des' maze,
Living hours, counting days,
Everlasting, fleeting phase?
Watch and wonder who you praise,
When consort becomes disciple,
Cycle, cycle, cycle.

Apathy, our fragile doll,
All we seek is all we stall,
Rather wait, or rather bawl?
Yet I sit, and here I scrawl,
Watching me, fly on the wall,
Watching me, apathy's thrall,
When idle becomes idol,
Cycle, cycle, cycle.

No, no, it cannot be,
Through my eyes, you cannot see,
No, no, you mustn't flee,
I still wish yet to be free,
No, no, hide the key,
Keep "out there" away from me,
When denial becomes recital,
Cycle, cycle, cycle.

Circle, circle, spin, and stop,
Stop—to reach towards the top,
Don't repair, just reap your crop,
Stop—downward you may drop,
Water falling, wet blacktop,
Stop—Lest your mind is prop,
When a spiral becomes spinal,
Cycle, cycle, cycle.

Don't deny the heart the mind,
With repentance comes the bind,
Ears are muted, eyes turned blind,
Connect the eternally twined,
Don't embrace—forgive your grind,
Lest you put your past behind,
When survival becomes revival,
Cycle, cycle, cycle.

Cycle, cycle, cycle.
AKA Exolvuntur In Aeternum -- Read three times for full effect.
Landon Keys Jun 30
A curious hour, 3am.
No one awake
but the Heartbroken
and Devils of the Night.

A powerful hour, 3am
with a crushing weight
against your soul.

A maddening hour, 3am
bewitching you
with the thoughts
of her.

A bittersweet hour, 3am
No one awake
but the Heartbroken
taking solace in the twilight
Hex May 26
Slipping free from yester's time,
A Feather trapses yond the way,
On wind it floats, a step, sublime,
Dipping and ducking flakes of grey,
Those forged by winter, the sun's decay,
Plates of ivory, why must they hack?
Torn soil, a relic of why you turn away,
Soar away, O Feather, and don't float back.

O Sea, so fair, shimmering as a chime,
As the wind you switch, and you sway,
And your blues shine like a dime,
But if he drifts beyond the bay,
Will waters claim him, as they say?
Or shall he wash back, with the wrack?
To you, O Sea, he mustn't stray,
Soar away, O Feather, and don't float back.

O Mount, your peak, the rigorous climb,
At your summit, scores kneel and pray,
Your caps glow white, with a grass bed of lime,
If you were where the feather must stay,
Shall your perils bring him fray?
Must he lie in caves of black?
Nay, a feather must fly, and outward he must splay,
Soar away, O Feather, and don't float back.

O Feather, O Feather, where will you spend your days?
Here I must halt on the trail of your track,
Seize the wind, O Feather, the world is your prey,
Soar away, O Feather, and don't float back.
A tale of independence.
Michael Apr 6
Deep inside the ocean
There’s beauty in the dark
There’s peace within the silence
Though beneath it lies the sharks

Deep inside the ocean
Your secrets will be safe
Hidden from the surface
Until your final days

Deep inside the ocean
The pressure is too much
Bring your hope down with you
It will be your only crutch

Deep inside the ocean
It’s littered full of mines

This ocean can be toxic
When the ocean is your mind
The ocean is also vast and unexplored, much like our own minds.
Having been referred to on multiple occasions as being “depressed”, I am offended. Every time. Having a chronically macabre state of mind and being drawn to a melancholy atmosphere and writing does not make one depressed. Or a psychopath. It does not mean a person is on a journey to being a serial killer or committing suicide. Some people, such as myself, just happen to find comfort in things deep and meaningful. While some comedy, joy, and love is to be revered and enjoyed more sparingly the sad, twisted, and horrid truths of the world can uphold a better sense of completion, joy, and love. This does not make one depressed or mentally ill but perhaps just more...... thoughtful.
Yusti Dec 2020
Nothing has never been scheduled,
but the power of the question.

Itself, the world makes no sense,
without scheduling it doesn’t.

And it’s not the freedom to think,
or even the calmness of free will.

It goes deeper inside with no trace,
so people use to believe what they don’t.

When hopes become the sole odds,
when the odds become triggered defeats.

And so, people will forever value and worry,
but what’s the beginning and the end?

The past seemed to not be determined,
and the future; yes; it does.

You all forget your past was your future,
and your present never dies.

Arriving to the conclusion of non-caring about that,
to just live or feel comprehensive about your now.

And never about your after or before,
exclusively about your then.

This could lead you to madness.

So what’s the right thing?
Should I care about?

I am not frightened,
I am just curious.

But nobody seems to believe it.
wouldn't it be beautiful
you and i

maybe not
maybe a different story (poem)
will tell you some day later...

someday soon, i promise :)
Ariel Wadyese Dec 2020
Lost inside my mind can’t you through the dark.
Black whole physics keeping light within my parts.
Watch events rise passed horizons when we start,
flood our minds full of thoughts think we really need an arch.
Think about the times we took drugs just stop it.
Think about the times we sold time just for profit.
Think about the times we did things without a conscience.


State of mind switching on the daily,
love beyond hate,
I mean look at all the babies.
Kind wonder why I’m distracted by fables, all projected on the tv screen.
Where everything is superficial
Plus it’s really lacking substance like the drugs that you are into.
Fear does not exist, it’s an illusion that is mental.
Fear does not exist, it’s an illusion that is mental.
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